What was this marvellous metamorphosis which had come upon him, flooding his life with golden waves of sweetness and of light? Now that he had beheld Lilith once more, he realized what entire hold she had taken of his thoughts since they two had parted on the deck of the _Persian_. It was a certainty there was no getting away from--but a certainty now which he was not in the least desirous of getting away from. He had beheld her once more. Their meeting had been of the briefest, their interchange of remarks of the most commonplace, every-day nature. Yet he had beheld her, had listened to the sound of her voice, had looked into her eyes. And the glance of those sweet eyes had been responsive; and his ear could detect a subtile note in the tones of her voice. Sweet Lilith! the spells she had begun to wreathe around him, so unconsciously to herself, so unconsciously to him, when first they talked together, were drawn, woven, more thoroughly now. And in his strange, new revivification--the return of strength and health and spirits--he rejoiced that it was so, and laughed, and defied circumstances, and Fate and the Future. CHAPTER VI. "PIRATE" HAZON. If the population of Johannesburg devoted its days to doing _konza_ to King Scrip, it devoted its nights to amusing itself. There was an enterprising theatrical company and a lively circus. There was a menagerie, where an exceedingly fine young woman was wont nightly to place her head within a lion's mouth for the delectation, and to the enthusiastic admiration of Judaea, and all the region round about. There were smoking-concerts galore--more or less good of their kind--and, failing sporadic forms of pastime, there were numerous bars--and barmaids, all of which counted for something in the relaxation of the forty thousand inhabitants of Johannesburg--mostly brokers. We are forgetting. There were other phases of nocturnal excitement, more or less of a stimulating nature--frequent rows, to wit, culminating in a nasty rough-and-tumble, and now and then a startling and barbarous murder. Now, to Laurence Stanninghame not any of the above forms of diversion held out the slightest possible attractiveness. The theatrical show struck him as third-rate, and as for circuses and menageries, he supposed they had been good fun when he was a child. He did not care twopence about the pleasures of the bar unless he wanted a drink, and for barmaids and their allurements less than nothing. So having already, with Rainsford or Wheeler, and seven other spirits more wicked than themselves, gone the round three or four times, just to see what there was to be seen, and found that not much, he had subsided into a good bit of a stay-at-home. A pipe, a newspaper or book, and bed, would be his evening program--normally, that is; for now and then he would stroll out to Booyseus. But of that more anon.