would be waiting to take her to Ho-la-le-la.[1]
So April meant to follow instructions and trust to luck to see her
through. Whatever happened, it could not be more terrible than to read
disgust and disillusion in Vereker Sarle's eyes.

She stole down the stairs like a shadow, and found a sleepy clerk in
the booking-office. It was simple to explain to him that she was going
away for a few days, but wished her room kept on, and everything left
as it was. She would send a wire to say at what date she would be
returning. There was no difficulty about the bill, for, fortunately,
Bellew had supplied her with plenty of money, saying it was Diana's,
and that she would have wished it to be used. It was too early for a
taxi to be got, even by telephoning, but the porter caught a stray
rickshaw that chanced to be passing, and April had her first experience
of flying downhill behind a muscular black man with feathers in his
hair and bangles on his feet. Before she reached the station her veil
and hair were in streamers, and her scalp was almost torn from her
head, but the _serpent jaune_ which had gnawed her vitals all night had
ceased from troubling, and joy of living glowed in her once more. She
could not help it; there was something in the air and the wind and the
blaze of Africa that made for life, and thrust out despair. It swept
away misery as the south-easter had swept the skies, leaving them blue
and clear as a flawless turquoise.

She caught her train, and in fate's good hour reached the Paarl, which
proved to be a town of one long street, decked with stately oaks, and
mellowed old Dutch homes. The mule-cart was waiting for her, and on
the driver's seat a woman with the austere features and blue, pure,
visionary eyes of Galahad, the stainless knight. But she was dressed
in breeches and a slouch hat, a cigarette hung from the corner of her
mouth, and she beckoned April gladsomely with an immense cowthong whip.

"Come on! I was afraid you'd shirk the early train, but I see you're
the stuff. Hop in!"

April did her best, but hopping into a Cape cart that has both steps
missing takes some practice. The mules did most of the hopping; she
scrambled, climbed, sprawled, and sprained herself all over before she
reached the vacant seat, already encumbered with many parcels. With a
blithe crack of the whip and a string of strange words flung like a
challenge at her mules, Miss Connal got under way.

The farm was s