Voice stifled with shame. Please tell me, Anna. What happened?

She sat up quickly and threw her arms about him, holding him hard so her

lips were near his ear. you know, Garry. You know who did itNo, I

swear I don't, please tell me Anna drew her breath in deep, held it a

second then breathed it out. Sean! Garrick's body convulsed in her

arms, she heard him grunt as though he had been hit. Then he spoke.

This too. Now this too He loosened her hands from his neck and pushed

her gently down onto the pillows. He crossed to the cupboard, opened

one of the drawers and took out Waites service pistol.

He's going to kill Sean, she thought. Garrick went out of the room

without looking at her again. She waited with her hands clenched at her

sides and her whole body stretched tightly. When the shot came at last

it was surprisingly muted and un-warlike. Her body relaxed, her hands

opened and she began to cry softly.

Garry limped down the passage. The pistol was heavy and the checkered

grip rough in his hand. There was light showing under the study door at

the end of the passage.

It was unlocked. Garrick went in.

Sean sat with his elbows on the desk and his face in his hands but he

looked up as Garrick came in through the door. The scratches had

already dried black across his cheek, but the flesh around them was red

and inflamed.

He looked at the pistol in Garrick's hand. She has told you. There was

no question or expression in his voice. Yes. I hoped that she

wouldn't, said Sean. I wanted her to spare you that at leastSpare me?

Garrick asked. What about her? Did you think of her? Sean did not

answer, instead he shrugged and laid back tiredly in his chair. I never

realized before what a merciless swine you are, choked Garrick. I have

come to kill you! Yes. Sean watched the pistol come up. Garrick was

holding it with both hands, his sandy hair hung forward onto his

forehead. My poor Garry, Sean said softly and immediately the pistol

started to shake. It sank until Garrick held it, still with both hands

between his knees. He crouched over it, blubbering, chewing at his lips

to stop himself. Sean started out of his chair to go to him, but

Garrick recoiled against the door-jamb. Keep away from me! he yelled,

don't touch me. He threw the pistol, the sharp edge of the hammer cut

across Sean's forehead, jerking his head back. The pistol glanced off

and hit the wall behind him. It fired and the bullet splintered the

panelled woodwork.

We're finished, Garrick screamed. We're finished for ever. He groped

wildly for the door and stumbled out into the passage, through the

kitchens into the rain. He fell many times as the grass caught his peg

but each time he scrambled up and kept running. He sobbed with each

step in the utter darkness of the night.

At last the growl of the rain-engorged Baboon Stroorn blocked his way.

He stood on the bank with the drizzle blowing into his face. Why me,

why always me? He screamed his agony into the darkness. Then with a

rush of relief as strong as the torrent in the river-bed below him he

felt the moth flutter its wings behind his eyes. The warmth and the

greyness closed about him and he sank down onto his knees in the mud.

Sean took very little with him: his bedroll, a rifle and a spare horse.

Twice in the darkness he lost the path to Mbejane's kraal but each time

his horse found it again.

Mbejane had built his big grass beehive hut well away from the quarters

of the other servants, for he was Zulu of royal blood. When at last

Sean came to it there were a few minutes of sleepy stirring and

muttering within before Mbejane, with a blanket draped around his

shoulders and an old paraffin lamp in his hand, came out to Sean's

shouts.

What is it, Nkosi? I am going, Mbejane. Where to? Wherever the roads

lead. Will you follow? I will get my spears, said Mbejane.

Old man Pye was still in his office behind the bank when they reached

Lady-burg. He was counting the sovereigns and stacking them in neat

golden piles and his hands were as gentle on them as a man's hands on

the body of the woman he loves, but he reached quickly for the open

drawer at his side as Sean shouldered the door open. You don't need

that, said Sean and Pye lifted his hand guiltily off the pistol. Good

gracious! I didn't recognize you, my boy. How much have I got credited

to my account! Sean cut through the pleasantries. This isn't banking

hours, you know. Look here, Mr Pye, I'm in a hurry. How much have I

got?

Pye climbed out of his chair and crossed to the big iron safe. Shielding