away, and disappeared
into the sitting-room. He followed her in, but the room was empty.

He paused. Then a smile spread over his face.

"I don't fancy we shall go under, little woman," he muttered, "at least,
not if I can help it."

He turned back to the veranda and strolled away towards the settlement.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE PAW OF THE CAT

Lablache was alone. Horrocks had left him to set out on his final effort
to discover Retief's hiding-place. The great man was eagerly waiting for
his return. Evening was drawing on and the officer had not yet put in an
appearance, neither had the money-lender received any word from him. In
consequence he was beginning to hope that Horrocks had succeeded.

All day the wretched man had been tortured by horrid fears. And, as time
passed and evening drew on, his mood became almost a panic. The
money-lender was in a deplorable state of mind; his nerves were shaken,
and he was racked by a dread of he scarce knew what. What he had gone
through the night before had driven him to the verge of mental collapse.
No bodily injury could have thus reduced him; for, whatever might have
been his failings, physical cowardice was not amongst the number. Any
moral weakness which might have been his had been so obscured by long
years of success and prosperity, that no one knowing him would have
believed him to be so afflicted. No, in spite of his present condition
Lablache was a strong man.

But the frightful mental torture he had endured at Retief's hands had
told its tale. The attack of the last twenty-four hours had been made
against him alone; at least, so Lablache understood it. Retief's efforts
were only in his direction; the raider had robbed him of twenty thousand
head of cattle; he had burnt his beautiful ranch out, in sheer
wantonness it seemed to the despairing man; what then would be his next
move if he were not stopped? What else was there of
his--Lablache's--that the Breed could attack? His store--yes--yes; his
store! That was all that was left of his property in Foss River. And
then--what then? There was nothing after that, except, perhaps--except
his life.

Lablache stirred in his seat and wheezed heavily as he arrived at this
conclusion. His horrified thoughts were expressed in the look of fear
that was in his lashless eyes.

His life--yes! That must be the raider's culminating object. Or would he
leave him that, so that he might further torture him by burning him out