He scrutinised the thin, handsome face intently. Then he looked from the man to the hotel before which the latter had alighted. "Stopping here?" he asked. Lawless nodded, and Van Bleit's manner warmed. "I've made lots of inquiries about you, but could never learn anything," he said. "I feared you had gone under, but," with a glance at the hotel front, "this scarcely looks like it." "On the contrary," Lawless answered, "I'm on top at present. I've been under and afloat several times since last we met." "You struck it rich at the mines, I suppose?" Lawless laughed unexpectedly. "Yes," he lied. "I struck it rich at the mines. Any man might who wasn't a fool." Van Bleit looked cunningly intelligent. "True," he answered. "If a man wants to get there in Africa it don't do for him to be squeamish. You didn't earn your nickname, Grit, in being over soft." At the mention of his nickname, Lawless looked fierce. "Damn you!" he said irritably. "If I remember rightly I owe that to you. It sticks closer than my own. That nickname has landed me in for many a ridiculous adventure. Men seem to imagine that I'm a survival of the mediaeval desperado; and I am offered any shady undertaking that entails the slightest risk." "They pay best, those undertakings," Van Bleit responded drily; and Lawless, regretting the speech as soon as it was made, answered indifferently: "Very likely. But a man doesn't sweep sewers when he has his pockets lined." He advanced towards his hotel. Van Bleit walked beside him, and together they passed from the glare of the pavement into the shaded coolness of the vestibule. "Come and drink to the good old times," he said,--"and to many more good times ahead." He led the way into the lounge. When they were seated, with drinks on a table in front of them, he asked: "What are you doing to-night? If you've nothing more amusing on hand, will you dine with me?" "If you care to repeat the invitation on some future occasion, you will see how readily I shall respond," Van Bleit answered. "But this evening I am dining at my cousin's. I don't know if that kind of thing amuses you," he added, after a moment's reflection, "but, if it does, I am confident my cousin would be delighted to welcome a friend of mine. Get into your togs, and I'll pick you up on my way. It's at the Smythes'. Smythe himself is a beastly prig, but my cousin is a good sort; and she gets hold of the right people, and gives one the right things to eat. What do you say?" "Not for me," Lawless answered. "I'm not long returned to civilisation. I'll look on at the game for a while. You go and eat your dinner, and make yourself agreeable--I trust both the meal and the company will come up to expectation--and give me to-morrow evening." "Good!" Van Bleit hesitated, looked at Lawless uncertainly, looked about him, changed colour; then looked at Lawless again.