He looked up at the heavens studded with stars, and then down at the smooth water of the straits. Only the ripple of the wavelets on the shore and the occasional call of a night-bird in the scrub behind him disturbed the stillness; it was a perfect night. For what seemed an eternity he sat on, thinking and thinking; but though he tried to think coherently, he was too excited to work out his actual situation. There was only the one real craving in his brain, and that was for vengeance. He wanted the actual grip of his antagonist, to make him suffer bodily pain in return for the mental agony he had inflicted. The desire for personal vengeance is a whole-souled one, and, like the love of opium, when once it takes possession all else has to go.
And so he sat on and on, watching the star-powdered water, and listening for any sound that might proclaim the return of his foe. But nothing came, only the swish of the waves on the strand, and now and again faint music of the ships' bells across the water.
Twelve o'clock struck, and just as the sound died away his eyes caught something moving in the water opposite where he sat. What it was he could not determine, but he would soon be able to, for it was every moment coming closer. At length it came near enough for him to see that it was a man swimming. Who could it be? Could it be Merton? To make sure, he crawled out on to the edge of the little cliff, and throwing himself down upon the ground, leaned over and watched.
Closer and closer the figure came until the swimmer touched bottom. Yes, it was Merton! After pausing a moment to regain his breath, he pulled himself together and waded ashore. Just as he left the water, Ellison caught sight of another figure out at sea. This must be Murkard. Fortunately the first man did not see him. He seated himself for a while, and then made off and disappeared round the headland towards the station, just as the second figure found a footing on the beach. Ellison took it all in in a second; as Murkard expected, he had come to recover the pearl, believing everybody to be asleep.
Eager to be doing, Ellison watched Murkard leave the water and follow the other round the promontory, and then he himself set off through the scrub to intercept him on the other side. It was a difficult matter to steer through the thick jungle in the dark; but eventually he managed it, reaching the huts just as Merton was approaching the store. What was he going to do? Could the pearl, after all, be concealed in there? Reflecting that if he waited and left him undisturbed he would probably find out everything for himself, he paused for a few moments and watched. He saw the man look carefully round, to be sure that he was unobserved, and then approach the door. A minute later he entered the building. At the same instant the other shadow crept up towards the door. Seeing this, Ellison picked up his heels and ran towards it too; but the night was dark, and in the middle of his career his foot came into collision with a discarded cable lying in the grass. He tripped and fell, one cartridge of the rifle he carried in his hand going off with a murderous report. For half a minute the breath was knocked out of his body, and he lay where he had fallen. Then picking himself up, he prepared to continue his advance.
But the report had given the alarm, and when he looked again, a strange scene was being enacted before him. From where he stood he could see the bright light streaming from the store door, and hear a sound of voices coming from within. Next moment two men, locked together in deadliest embrace, came staggering out into the open. There was no noise now, only the two locked bodies twisting and twining, this way and that, round and round over the open space before the door. It needed little discernment to see that both men were fighting for their lives. Like wildcats they clung to each other, each exerting every muscle to bring the other down. But, as Ellison half-consciously reflected, what match could Murkard hope to be for such a man as Merton? One was a big, powerful man, the other only a parody of the name. With this thought in his mind, he dashed across to them; but he was too late. He saw an arm go up, and a knife descend; again it went up in the lamplight, and again it descended. Then Murkard's hold gave way, and he fell to the ground; next moment his antagonist was speeding towards the beach. Ellison took it all in at a glance, and then set off as fast as his legs could carry him by another path to intercept his flight. So far, the man had not seen him; he would take him by surprise, or perish in the attempt.
The path he followed was one that gave him a decided start, and he was able to reach the shore and take advantage of the shelter of a bush before the other turned the corner of the headland. He heard him coming closer and closer, breathing heavily after the struggle he had just undergone. Then Ellison stepped out of the shadow and confronted him, rifle in hand.
"It's no good, Merton, you haven't a chance. Put up your hands, or I fire!"
The other came to a dead halt, and without a second thought did as he was ordered. But overcome with astonishment though he was, his habitual nonchalance returned to him in an instant.
"You're a little smarter than usual, Mr. Ellison. I didn't bargain for this!"
"You'd better not talk. Keep your hands up, or I'll drill you through and through. There are eight more cartridges under my finger, and I'll shoot without a second thought. Right about face, and walk up the middle of the path. Don't attempt any escape, or you're a dead man."
Merton did as he was ordered, and in this fashion they returned to the store. As they approached it they could discern a small crowd collected round the door. The report of the rifle had brought the hands from their huts, and between them they had carried Murkard into the building.
"Straight on, Merton. Keep your hands up, and don't turn to the right or left, or stop till I give you permission."
They came up to the store door, and the crowd fell back on either side to let them pass.
"My lads," said Ellison, "this is a very bad business, as you can see. Two of you catch hold of this man, and take care that he doesn't escape. Jimmy Rhotoma, go into the store and bring me a pair of handcuffs you'll see hanging on a nail above my desk. Long Pete, you take a boat and pull across to the township for the doctor and a policeman. Bring them back with you, and be as quick as you can."
The handcuffs were soon forthcoming, and Ellison himself adjusted them on Merton's wrists.
"Now, boys, take him into your own hut and watch him there till I call. If he wants to talk tell him to hold his jaw. If he tries to bolt, kill him with the first thing you find handy. Two of you remain with me."
An angry growl from the men evidenced the reception Merton might expect to meet with if he attempted to escape, and he was wise enough to see that it would be impossible. When he had been led away Ellison entered the store. He found Murkard lying on the floor, his head pillowed on a couple of chair-cushions. The pool of blood by his side proclaimed the fact that he was seriously wounded. Moreover, he was unconscious. Ellison knelt beside him, and having found the wound on his breast, endeavoured to staunch the bleeding; but it was a hopeless task. Taking the whiskey bottle from the table, where it had remained since Merton had brought it down to him that evening, he tried to force some of the spirit into his mouth. A moment after he did so Murkard opened his eyes and looked about him.
"What has happened?" he asked faintly. Then his memory came back to him. "Oh, I remember. He has not escaped, Ellison?"
"Not he. We have him safe enough. But, oh, Murkard, to think that you should be wounded like this!"
"I told you what it would be, old man. This is the fulfilment of my prophecy. I knew it would come."
He moved his hand and let it fall to his side.
"I'm all wet," he went on, after a long pause. "By Jove! it's blood. Then it's hopeless. Well, I don't know that I'm sorry. But there is something else we have to do. When I came in he was burrowing behind that box there. Look for yourself. Don't bother about me."
He pointed to a box in the corner, and Ellison went towards it, and pulled it into the centre of the room.
"What do you see?"
"Nothing at all. Stay, there's a matchbox here."
He stooped and picked it up.
"Open it quickly – quickly!"
Ellison did as he was ordered.
"The pearl – the pearl! Here it is safe and sound!"
"I thought as much. The scoundrel! Now I can die happy. Give me some more whiskey."
Ellison thrust the pearl back into the safe, and then gave Murkard another drink of the spirit. It put fresh life into him for the moment.
"Ellison," he said, taking his friend's hand, "you've been a true friend to me."
"I have not been half as true a friend as you have been to me. My God, Murkard, is there nothing I can do for you until the doctor comes? I cannot let you die like this!"
"It's hopeless, old man. I can feel it. Let us talk while we have the chance. I want to tell you about that money. You see my family sent it to me, myself. They don't know you in the matter at all. I deceived you there. If you would like to pay it back and start afresh send it to them from me. Tell them, too," – he paused, – "tell them, too, – that I died – doing my duty. Do you understand? It will surprise them, but I should like them to know it."
"They shall know that you died like a hero, giving your life for mine."
"Don't pile on the agony, old fellow. They'd not believe it; we're by nature a sceptical race. I don't want the matter turned to ridicule."
"Is there nothing I can do to make you easier?"
"Nothing, old man, except to give me more liquor. Thank you. I'm getting weaker every minute. I wonder what they'll do to that fellow Merton?"
"Hang him if I can do anything to forward it."
"Poor devil! And yet he was only sent into the world for this. Look, Ellison, bring him here for a minute – I must speak to him."
"I'll send for him."
Ellison went to the door, and sent one of the hands for Merton. The night was almost spent; the stars were paling in the eastern heavens. A cold, cheerless wind blew up from the sea.
In less time than it takes to tell Merton entered the hut, carefully guarded. He looked at the man lying on the floor, and a half-contemptuous smile passed across his face.
"What do you bring me here for?" he asked.
"Murkard wishes to speak to you," said Ellison, and went outside leaving the pair together.
Three minutes later Merton emerged again, his face white as the death that was swiftly coming to the other. He was saying to himself over and over again, as the men led him away:
"God help me! If I had only known in time!"
Ellison went in again. One glance told him the end was very near at hand.
"Ellison, it's a rum world, isn't it? Do you know, I touched that fellow on his only tender spot, and I know now why he has always been so bitter against me. Poor devil, he never knew that – " He let the sentence die unfinished. Then he said, as if addressing someone present: "You need not have had any fear. I should not have betrayed you, dear. But five years is a long time to wait." A pause, during which his wits seemed to come back to him. "Would you mind holding my hand, Ellison. I've got rather a rocky place to pull through, and, after all, I'm a bit of a coward. Somehow I think I'm going to have a little sleep now. Remember – we've got – to – get – those – accounts away – by – the mail – to-morrow – "