Scarlett Trent spent the first part of the morning,to which he had been looking forward so eagerly,alone in his study with locked door to keep out all intruders.He had come face to face with the first serious check in his career,and it had been dealt him too by the one man whom,of all his associates,he disliked and despised.In the half-open drawer by his side was the barrel of a loaded revolver.
He drew it out,laid it on the table before him,and regarded it with moody,fascinated eyes.If only it could be safely done,if only for one moment he could find himself face to face with Da Souza in Bekwando village,where human life was cheap and the slaying of a man an incident scarcely worth noting in the day's events!The thing was easy enough there -here it was too risky.He thrust the weapon back into the drawer with a sigh of regret,just as Da Souza himself appeared upon the scene.
"You sent for me,Trent,"the latter remarked timidly."I am quite ready to answer any more questions.""Answer this one,then,"was the gruff reply."In Buckomari village before we left for England I was robbed of a letter.I don't think I need ask you who was the thief.""Really,Trent -I -""Don't irritate me;I'm in an ill humour for anything of that sort.
You stole it!I can see why now!Have you got it still?"The Jew shrugged his shoulders.
"Yes."
"Hand it over."
Da Souza drew a large folding case from his pocket and after searching through it for several moments produced an envelope.The handwriting was shaky and irregular,and so faint that even in the strong,sweet light of the morning sunshine Trent had difficulty in reading it.He tore it open and drew out a half-sheet of coarse paper.It was a message from the man who for long he had counted dead.
"BEKWANDO.
"MY DEAR TRENT,-I have been drinking as usual!Some men see snakes,but I have seen death leering at me from the dark corners of this vile hut,and death is an evil thing to look at when one's life has been evil as mine has been.Never mind!I have sown and I must reap!But,my friend,a last word with you.I have a notion,and more than a notion,that I shall never pass back alive through these pestilential swamps.If you should arrive,as you doubtless will,here is a charge which I lay upon you.That agreement of ours is scarcely a fair one,is it,Trent?When I signed it,I wasn't quite myself.Never mind!I'll trust to you to do what's fair.If the thing turns out a great success,put some sort of a share at any rate to my credit and let my daughter have it.You will find her address from Messrs.Harris and Culsom,Solicitors,Lincoln's Inn Fields.You need only ask them for Monty's daughter and show them this letter.They will understand.I believe you to be a just man,Scarlett Trent,although I know you to be a hard one.Do then as I ask.
"MONTY."
Da Souza had left the room quietly.Trent read the letter through twice and locked it up in his desk.Then he rose and lit a pipe,knocking out the ashes carefully and filling the bowl with dark but fragrant tobacco.Presently he rang the bell.
"Tell Mr.Da Souza I wish to see him here at once,"he told the servant,and,though the message was a trifle peremptory from a host to his guest,Da Souza promptly appeared,suave and cheerful.
"Shut the door,"Trent said shortly.
Da Souza obeyed with unabashed amiability.Trent watched him with something like disgust.Da Souza returning caught the look,and felt compelled to protest.
