This was an adequate expression of the pursuer's feelings, for as his enemy stood gazing about him in abject terror, Dane felt he could not strike him down in cold blood, and he longed fiercely that he might be provoked to some fresh violence.
"Can you understand, you thief and midnight assassin, that there is not enough room in this country for both of us?"
"I comprehend nothing, camarade," Rideau answered calmly. "What would you of me?"
"Satisfaction!" Dane tried to choke down his fury. "There is a long account between us, and we couldhave settled it with less difficulty if you had had the courage of your confederates a few minutes ago. As it is, you can choose between a dash for the forest and a volley as you go, or a journey down to the coast in my custody. There you will be turned over to the authorities. I reserve myself the privilege, if they do not render you incapable of further mischief."
Rideau laughed.
"There I should denounce you for the plunder and killing of the Indigene. The Administration has no charge against me. I am good friend of the sous official, me. My friend, you are excite, and talk foolishly."
"If the chief of the Administration is a friend of yours, his own words don't bear it out. I can substantiate quite sufficient against you; and unless I'm greatly mistaken, the man with the cross on his forehead lies riddled with big shot beside my tent. A number of my boys will swear to his identity. In the meantime I have no further words to waste with you. I intend to give the Administration the first opportunity for rewarding you. It will be time for me to take further steps if they do not profit by it as I think they will."
Dane felt that he was weak; but even in his passion there were things he could not do, and his enemy's helplessness was his protection. Also, he knew that justice is tempered with discretion throughout much of that country, and he hoped that if the Authorities suspected Rideau of different offenses, but could not convict him, they would see that this charge did not miscarry.
The assumption of indifference faded from Rideau's face, and with a swift glance over his shoulder he drew out his hand from under his jacket. Dane afterwarddecided that he saw, what all the rest were too intent to notice, that the torch was burning out; for with an evident effort and a shrug of his shoulders he answered quietly.
"La bas they laugh at you, and I make you pay. Alors, when I am impotent I surrender to the force majeure."
Dane, calling to Amadu, strode forward with the failing light upon him. Unarmed as he was, this was distinctly foolish, and he might have paid for his folly, for just before the negro dropped the torch Rideau flung one hand up, and simultaneously with a thin flash something hummed past the Briton's head. There was bewildering darkness, and Dane ran straight in upon his enemy, or where he supposed him to be, determined in spite of the pistol to end the feud there and then. Rideau, however, had beaten him again, for the growth about the water-side began crackling, and when some of Amadu's men fired into it, the sound did not cease, and they only came near destroying their master, who plunged savagely through the bending stems.
He fell into a pit of slime, sinking to the waist, and lost precious time floundering in its oozy grip before he dragged himself out. Then there was further ooze with matted roots which fouled his feet, while a sound behind him showed that the negroes were following. It was Amadu who, when he had waded up to the shoulders and sought for room to swim, dragged him backward by main force; and though Dane struggled, he was held fast in a grasp against which he was powerless.
"If the white man is alive he makes no sound," he said. "No man could find him in this darkness, butperhaps they who crawl along the bottom will. Still, when one brings the canoe up we will look for him."
As his reason returned to him Dane realized that the search would be useless. A hundred men might fail to find a fugitive who cowered motionless amid the luxuriant aquatic growth, though, as Amadu had suggested, the scaled inhabitants of the river would be less likely to miss him. Still, when somebody brought up a canoe he encouraged them by extravagant offers of cloth, and then turned back hurriedly toward the camp. It would, while the confusion lasted, lie open to attack; and Dane hoped that his enemy, if he succeeded in crossing the river, would leave a trail behind him which could be followed on the morrow.
Reaching his overturned tent he found a group of curious negroes clustered about it, and because a fire had been lighted, there was light to show that the huddled mass of fur and dusky skin lay where it had fallen. The canvas was foul with half-coagulated stains whose color made it unnecessary to inquire if the wound had been fatal. Dane had no compunction. The man who had been slain when seeking his life with devilish cunning was one of the league which had struck down his comrade. Stooping with a shudder of disgust, he stripped the leopard's fur from the face beneath, and was not surprised to see that a cross-shaped scar on the forehead showed lividly.
"Where is the other? There were two?" he asked; and it was with relief that he saw Bad Dollar, whom he had forgotten, shamble toward him and then turn beckoning. Dane followed the negro, who held high a blazing brand, toward where another monstrous object lay full length among the trampled undergrowth.The fur had fallen partly clear of the flesh beneath, and he saw that Bad Dollar's matchet had done its work.
"Come here, all of you," called Dane. "Tell them to look at this man's neck, Monday, and say if they know the meaning of what there is about it."
Monday talked with some of the negroes, who, chattering excitedly, bent with fear and hesitation, to examine the tattooed device.
"Them boy say this yellow nigger and them other be big cappy among them Leopard, sah," Monday interpreted. "That be the Ju-Ju mark, and no common nigger done wear him, sah."
"Cappy Maxwell was right again," said Dane. "Make me a bed in the camp and burn that tent to-morrow, Monday. I could not sleep in it—and I think until I leave this ghastly country I shall not sleep again. See to the sentries and let the rest lie down while they can. We lib for go on again with the sun."
Dane was mistaken when he said he could not sleep, for hardly had Amadu returned to report his failure to find any trace of the fugitive than he sank into deep slumber. This was not strange. He had lived for some time under a constant strain, sleeping very little; and now that part at least of his task was accomplished nature had her way. It was true that Rideau had escaped him, but Dane believed that if he was alive they might still overtake him. He decided that Rideau's life would no longer be worth a day's purchase in the Leopards' country, and he would head at once for the coast.
Events proved him right, for when he opened his eyes the next morning Amadu stood beside his couch to say that Rideau had left a trail it was easy to follow across the creek, and that the boys were ready to march. They started forthwith, and that was the beginning of a memorable chase. Every indispensable pound of weight, including the weapons, was ruthlessly flung away once they entered a settled country. The time for food and sleep was cut down, and the camp boys, seeing that the road led south toward the sea, vied with each other in their efforts to shorten the journey. The forest rolled behind them, as did miles of dusty grass; but the chase never slackened, and, for this region was populous, they hadnews of the fugitive. One morning Dane reached a village he had passed the previous night. At another they missed him by a few hours, and found two lame men he had hired and left behind.
Dane's own men had flung themselves down panting in the shade, but most of them rose cheerfully in answer to his summons, while Monday used forcible arguments to encourage the rest, and in ten minutes all were on their way again. They lost the path in a morass, and at the next village they found that Rideau had increased his lead; but Dane knew that they were near the coast, and that he held his enemy between him and the sea. So the chase went on, until they reached a native market on the banks of a broad stream. A white man, so its ruler stated, had seized a canoe there a few hours earlier.
"Say dam low t'ief man done go chop one canoe and lib for get out like the debbil down them river," explained a negro who seemed proud of his linguistic abilities.
"Tell your headman I'll pay twice its value for the best craft he has," said Dane; and then consulted with his subordinates, for it was evident that they must divide forces here. It was not more than three days' journey to the coast, the headman said; and taking Amadu, Bad Dollar, and six picked Krooboys with him in the big canoe, he left Monday to follow with the rest to Little Mahu. Dane felt sorely tempted to leave the gold with the headman, under guard, but thought better of it.
The Kroos were skilled with the paddle, the canoe was long and fast, and Dane's spirits rose as he felt the thin shell surge forward at every sturdy stroke. Allthat day the dusky bodies, stripped to the costume of Eden, swayed athwart his vision over the flashing blades, as he stared forward with aching eyes down the long vista of dazzling water that unrolled itself before him. Palms, cottonwoods, creeper festoons, mud banks, fled astern. The temperature grew suffocating under the glare of afternoon, but still the thudding paddles rose and fell, while froth licked the bows and the paddling song rose in spasmodic gasps. At sunset they met a big trade canoe toiling upstream; and, excited by promises of rich reward, the crew roused themselves to fresh effort when its helmsman told them that another craft with three men in it, one of whom was dressed as a white man, had passed him an hour earlier.
A full moon rose over the forest presently, and they pushed on across stretches of glistening silver and breadths of inky gloom. The Kroos had done gallantly, but they were only beings of flesh and blood, and their strength was ebbing fast. One who had dropped his paddle lay idle in the bows, another appeared to be choking, and fouled his comrade's blade, while the paddles of the rest dipped at steadily increasing intervals; so seeing that neither bribes nor threats could stir them, Dane desisted, almost too hoarse to make his voice audible. His hands were raw and bleeding where the haft of his paddle had eaten into them. The stream, however, ran with them, and they still made headway, while he strained his heavy eyes, expecting each moment to see a canoe ahead.
Dane, however, even yet had not gaged his enemy's ingenuity.
They ran the craft alongside the landing of a nativevillage in another hour or two, crawled out of her very stiffly, and were told by the headman that two negroes had come ashore from a passing craft to purchase food a little earlier, while a white man lay still in her bottom. Dane concluded from this that the fugitive had slightly increased his lead, and he was wondering whether he could by main force get his boys on board again, or could engage a fresh crew, when a negro who spoke English plucked his sleeve.
"I go look them white men in canoe soffly, soffly. What you lib for dash me if I tell you something, suh?"
Dane had nothing left to offer as a present, and seizing the man by the shoulder, shook him violently.
"Tell me at once, and you shall have whatever you want if you will go to Mahu for it," he said.
The headman protested, but the negro only grinned when Dane slackened his grip.
"I not fool man, sah. The Lord he give me sense too much. You done dash me them jackus you have on now."
Dane's duck jacket was badly rent, but it was garnished with ornamental metal buttons such as the black man loves. Tearing it off, he flung it at the speaker. The heathen, finding himself successful, desired the white man's trousers too; but this time Dane, disregarding the headman, shook him savagely.
"I go look them white man, sah. He was a black man in white man's clofes."
Dane stared at the man stupidly; and then clustering huts, red fires, and wondering negroes, grew hazy before him, as choking with fury he saw what had happened. Rideau had changed clothes with one of his followers,and sending him on for the pursuers to follow, had landed and vanished into the forest. It was of the first importance to decide where he would make for. Mastering himself with an effort, Dane managed to obtain some useful information from the headman. Mahu, being partially sheltered, was the only port in that vicinity where any one would be likely to find surf-boats, or canoes suitable for a coast trip, he said; for the bar of the river they had descended was generally impassable. It seemed hardly probable that Rideau would turn north again without equipment or escort; and deciding that he would endeavor to escape from the colony before the authorities heard his pursuer's story, Dane determined to push on at once for Redmond's factory. His men, however, were utterly worn out, and finally declined to drag themselves a yard farther. Bad Dollar lay down, and was either unwilling or unable to get up again; only Amadu remained unbeaten. Finally the headman was prevailed upon to provide carriers, and Dane and Amadu were borne out of the village in lurching hammocks.
At first the motion of a hammock is soothing, but though very weary Dane could not sleep. The boys marched well; but consumed with impatience, he lay wide awake peering into the darkness, and striving to encourage them to more determined effort. They ceased the carrying song from sheer lack of breath, and the white man could hear them panting beneath him. The sun rose, but there was no halt for rest; and the men were stumbling when one shouted excitedly, and not far ahead low whitewashed buildings rose dazzlingly against the sea.
When the carriers halted in front of them, two traderswhom Dane recognized from Maxwell's description met him at the compound gate, and stared wonderingly when, watching them with bloodshot eyes, the newcomer told his name.
"Where are the rest of you, and Maxwell?" asked Redmond. "You can't have lost the whole of them; though there's no need to tell me something has gone wrong. Few men come home from the back country looking as though they had enjoyed the experience, but you're almost as bad as the last one."
"I have not enjoyed mine," Dane answered huskily; for he remembered with what hopes and in whose company he had first marched from the sea, and the contrast was bitter. "Maxwell has made his last journey."
"Dead?"
Dane nodded; and Gilby laid a hand on his shoulder with a gesture of sympathy which touched him.
"He was a wonderful man—but all the rest of them are not dead, too?"
"We lost too many. The rest are following. I will try to tell you all in good time. Has Rideau arrived here lately?"
Gilby smiled dryly.
"He has; and the way he did it coupled with your own appearance would stir up any man's curiosity. Rideau came in dressed like a nigger this morning, in the hottest hurry, saying he'd important business down the coast, and offered me my own price for the loan of our big surf-boat to go there in."
"You didn't let him have it!" Dane gasped.
"We don't often let business pass us; but I told him to go to perdition, if he could find his way swimming."Gilby chuckled. "I also told him several things that needn't be repeated."
"Gilby never had any sense to spare," interjected his comrade. "He was so proud of the speech he made that instead of warning the niggers not to help him, he did nothing except tell me how he said it; and Rideau got some fishermen to take him east in their canoe. They'll be well away to leeward now. What did the brute do?"
"Instigated my partner's murder, and twice attempted my own life," Dane answered in breathless haste. "But I'm in no mood to waste time. Will you hire me that surf-boat?"
"If you want her to follow Rideau you shall have the boat for nothing, and we'll both come along," said Redmond. "Gilby, get down to the beach and see to the gear and crew. Meantime, you are coming straight into the factory to get some food. Where is Rideau making for? That I don't know, but he'll probably try to get on board theMinellaif he's afraid of you. She's billed on a stopping trip for Lagos, but she'll edge close round Twin Point Bluff, and he'll no doubt try to board her there. There's a nice southwester blowing now, and under the big lugsail we ought to overhaul the canoe before he does so. She can't have got far until the breeze sprang up."
Dane had eaten little of late, but the food forced upon him almost choked him now; and leaving most of it untasted, he drank feverishly; then finding himself almost too exhausted to pace the veranda, he flung himself impatiently into a chair.
"Will that boat never be ready?" he asked.
"I'm hurrying her," replied Gilby, who also seemedimpatient. "One boy's sewing a new cloth in the sail, and as she's too big to paddle far, we can't start until it's finished. She wants some pitch run into her bilge seams, too, and won't be ready for an hour or longer. Still, I'm hoping to overhaul Rideau early to-morrow—and he won't enjoy the meeting, by the look of you."
After some discussion Redmond reluctantly agreed to remain behind in charge of the gold Dane brought down; and it was nearly dark when, without shipping overmuch water, the surf-boat cleared the beach, and with tall lugsail straining, lurched away eastward over the moonlit swell. It was then that, lying in the stern to rest and gather strength for what might yet be required of him, Dane told Gilby his detailed story. He could afterward recall the intent face fixed upon him, the crash of breakers throbbing through the haze that hid the shore, and the listing craft's swift rise and fall. At the time, however, he was conscious of nothing except that they were speeding east, and that the trader assured him the slender native canoe dare carry very little sail in such a strength of breeze. Gilby held the tiller, a big Krooboy sat on the weather gunwale slacking off the lugsail sheet each time the boat dipped her side to a stronger puff of breeze, and Amadu lay on the weather floorings, deadly sick and groaning horribly, to the amusement of the amphibious heathen.
"It will be remembered that I have suffered these torments for my master's sake," he said in a mixture of several tongues. "Still, once we land I will beat the life out of some of these dogs."
The craft traveled fast, for the off-shore breeze blew fresh abeam; and though at times it lashed the waters into foam, the helmsman daringly held on to the wholelugsail; and so at last, when the moon hung low in the west, and pearly streaks brightened over her starboard bow, a tall bluff loomed blackly through the haze ahead.
"Twin Point," said Gilby, shaking the spray from his jacket. "I have kept her well inshore for a purpose, but now we'll ease the sheet off. We should see the canoe once we round the head. TheMinellacan't be far off by this time, either."
Dane rose stiffly, but he could see little except the belts of thinning haze which dimmed the waters ahead. He could hear the thunder of breakers on the invisible foot of the cliff. The light was growing each moment, the breeze dying fast, and presently the damp lugsail slatted against the mast.
"Get out your paddles!" ordered Gilby.
The lugsail rustled down, the mast was lowered. Muscular black men perched themselves on the gunwales, and the paddles beat the water, while, when they had brought the head abeam, the mist rolled back, and the red track of the sunrise streaked the heaving sea. A low, black blur and a smear of smoke crawled athwart it; while nearer the shore, and seen only when the surf-boat climbed the long undulations, a dusky strip, with moving figures silhouetted against the radiant sea, lurched toward the approaching steamer.
"There he is!" Dane shouted. "Gilby, promise those boys anything if we overtake him! Pull up your tiller and swing her farther off-shore! If we pass out of hailing distance I shall miss the steamer."
"You are right; and that's theMinella," was the answer. "Still, if you wish to meet Mr. Rideau you had better let me arrange things for you. We can see him out there, but he won't see us under the high bluffas yet, and his boys don't seem to be killing themselves yonder. He'll expect us coming up from the southwest, and that is why I edged in along the shore. Besides, there's a nasty piece of stone lying off the False Point which, as the stream sets strong over it, it's wiser to keep well clear of."
Straining his eyes, Dane could see the surf on the Twin promontory some distance away; and while he watched it a long undulation outshore of it was rent asunder and a column of foam rushed aloft. It dissipated into filmy spray, and a dull roar reached the listeners faintly. The steep swell of the southern ocean breaks heavily along the coast.
"That's Sunk Reed," said Gilby. "A steam-boat went ashore there three years ago and smashed most of her bottom out in less than five minutes. Since then careful skippers coming round False Point haul out from shore. By the way theMinella's steering, it's not certain that either Rideau or ourselves will catch her. Paddle, you black devils, paddle!"
Dane fancied the boys were doing their utmost, but the progress they made appeared distressfully slow. The steamer was rising higher all the time, but thin haze still clung about the rocks, and the surf-boat probably remained unseen against the towering background. The canoe also was growing larger, and Dane could plainly see the sunken reef hurling clouds of spray aloft ahead of her, for the flood-tide joining the usual eastward current was setting strong across it. Presently a figure waving a white cotton cloth rose upright in the craft and the paddles whirled faster, but there was no answering hoot from the steamer's whistle.
"TheMinella's deep, and her skipper wouldn't stoplong for a Colonial Governor when he has a full cargo on board," explained Gilby. "It will be a tight fit to catch her; but we could head off Rideau, who doesn't see us yet. I don't think his boys, being strangers, know how far that reef runs out. Only the steeper seas break on the outer end of it."
"Head him off. Never mind the steamer," Dane said hoarsely.
The boys made further efforts. Foam lapped about the bows, the splash of paddles swelled into a resonant thudding, and Gilby pulled hard upon his helm.
"They see us at last!"
Dane stood upright, cheering on the paddlers, who broke into a gasping song, and both craft went flying across the swell; but as they edged outshore it became evident that Rideau must pass the reef closely to reach the steamer. Rolling heavily, she still came on, perhaps a mile away, with unslackened speed. The spouting on the reef drew nearer, and Dane's voice seemed to break up in his throat, for unless Rideau could clear it during the next few minutes the pursuers felt sure of him. Dane had no paddle, and there being nothing he could do, he stared forward, moistening his parched lips with his tongue. Quickening a trifle, the paddles flashed and fell, while the lurching hull leaped forward at every impetus; but it seemed to the anxious man that she was merely crawling over the flaming sea.
"We have him!" gasped Gilby, with exultation in his tone. "If he holds clear of the reef we have him safe! Hallo! Where is he going now? It's a very odd chance he shoots through between the seas."
Dane already had noticed that the outer end of the reef was marked only by a swirl of water when thesmaller seas passed. As Gilby spoke, the canoe was turned straight toward it.
"What that man can do we can. Follow him!" Dane cried; but Gilby signaled to his crew, and they slackened their paddling. They were far from timid, but they had not lost their reason.
Twice the sea was rent apart ahead, and sheets of foam rushed up, while the sound of its impact on the reef rang in a deafening crash. Then the pursuit ended suddenly.
"Are they mad, or turning on him?" gasped Gilby.
A man flung in his paddle on board the craft ahead. The flash of a pistol followed, but no sound was audible through the thunder of the reef. Then a black form rose upright with paddle swung high, and a long sea rose between the pursuers and the canoe. When it passed, the frail craft floated bottom uppermost, and the reef hurled up a smother of foam close ahead. Already several black heads were spread out across the swell as the native crew swam for dear life to evade the danger.
Gilby's boys stopped paddling altogether.
"Go on! Rideau's clinging to the canoe!" shouted Dane.
Gilby looked at the whirling spray, and then at his comrade.
"It won't be in this world he'll answer for his offenses. She's drifting straight across the reef, and nothing at that distance could cheat it."
Dane struck the nearest negro.
"Go on! Why don't you paddle? Gilby, where that man goes I follow!"
The trader gripped him savagely by the arm.
"He has escaped you. Keep still or I'll fell you with the tiller. Are you mad? There, look yonder. That is the last of him."
Staring out of eyes that but imperfectly recorded their impressions, Dane saw the black hull of the canoe swing aloft on the crest of a sea which rolled majestically toward the hidden barrier. The wall of water broke up suddenly with a deafening roar, and a tremendous rush of foam hurled itself aloft. When it fell, there was no sign of the canoe.
"He has gone," said Gilby, in a curiously strained voice. "The niggers will get ashore all right. You couldn't drown a beach man. Rideau will be smashed out of recognition. Still, we'll paddle round to leeward and make certain. Appolyon, you try to signal them 'teamer."
When they slid round the other side of the barrier a shattered canoe rocked bottom-uppermost on the confused welter, but there was no sign of a human head; and when the blast of a whistle reached the searchers, the surf-boat's bow was toward the steamer.
"You had better go on with her and make an affidavit before the Commandant, if they'll land you," advised Gilby. "I'll send in a written statement and swear to it if they send a Commissioner. Meantime, we'll keep your boys at the factory; and, in case we might want their testimony, I'll take off Rideau's niggers too. Of course, we had no intention of drowning him, but the way he shot that poor black paddle-boy lessens one's regrets. Rideau was dangerous to his friends to the last."
Dane was ready to act upon any suggestion. Worn out, mentally and physically alike, he could not thinkconnectedly; and when, climbing the lowered ladder, he was surrounded by a wondering group on the steamer's deck, he turned from them savagely.
"We are all curious," said the skipper. "What took place aboard the canoe—mutiny, murder, or an outbreak of insanity?"
"I can't tell you anything now; but if you will come ashore with me at the next French station, where I must make a declaration, you shall hear how the canoe was wrecked when I am able to tell it."
"That will do," acquiesced the skipper. "You certainly don't look fit for unnecessary talking now. Better turn in, and I'll send our doctor along to you."
Dane was glad to do so; but he had hardly flung himself down in his room before the doctor came in.
"I have been living under a constant strain during the last few months, and have had very little sleep for weeks," he said. "Give me something that will keep me from waking or thinking for twelve hours, if you have it."
The surgeon touched his wrist and laid a hand on his forehead.
"So one would suppose," he replied; "but if the scene we just witnessed was the climax of your adventures, I hardly think you will need a sleeping draught. Nature is addicted to providing her own remedy. If you'll take the dose I'll send you, you will probably wake up considerably better. It will not contain narcotics."
He went out, and Dane soon sank into deep, refreshing sleep.
A puff of cool air streaming in through an open port roused the sleeper, and he became conscious of a restful lift and swing. The hammock boys, it seemed, had a good path beneath them and were traveling well. But the swing was longer than that of any hammock, and a steady vibration, which resembled no sound in the forest, recalled him to remembrance. He recognized that it was made by pounding engines. The air that fanned him was also fresh and invigorating, and Dane lay still again with a sense of vast relief. The time of strain was over, and now for a space at least he could rest. Dressing languidly, he went up on deck.
The ocean gleamed, a great sheet of rippling silver, under the moon. Clear stars burned above the mastheads, which swayed to and fro athwart them, while the splash of tumbling waters and the sting of flung-up spray seemed charged with healing. Lights shone in the smoking-room windows, through which laughter and a murmur of voices came out, but just then merriment would have jarred on Dane, and he leaned over the rails, baring his head to the breeze, and trying to realize what had happened to him. He felt that the shadow which had hung over him had melted while he slept, and escaping from its baleful darkness, which had obscured his mental vision, he had awakened sane. Then, though for the sake of one who slept on a lonelybluff beyond the Leopards' country, Dane did not regret what had been done, he shuddered, remembering the one grim purpose which had dominated him.
"We did not expect to see you yet," said the skipper, halting beside him with the doctor. "Of course, we have had only one topic of conversation."
"What is the general opinion?" Dane asked indifferently.
"My glass is an old one, but the mate has one of the latest inventions," the skipper answered. "He declares it was the white man who upset the canoe, and did it deliberately."
"I should like to see the mate," exclaimed Dane. "If he is right it would to some extent be a relief to me."
"I haven't quite relinquished my authority yet," the doctor interposed. "One might conclude it would be wise for you to give your mind a rest from that particular subject. A good many things happen in this country which it is well to forget; and there are signs that your load has been as heavy as you are fit to carry."
"It is good advice, if somewhat hard to profit by," said Dane; and the two men turned away. The skipper's words, however, had removed his last compunction. He had determined to deliver Rideau to justice, and not planned to drown him, but if his enemy had preferred to take his own life rather than stand a trial, the responsibility did not rest upon his pursuer.
Dane strolled forward out on to the reeling forecastle, and found the swift passage of the ship through the moonlit water soothing. Ahead there was neither reef nor shoal. She forged on, hurling aside each sea whichbarred her way, straight toward a safe haven through open water. It seemed a happy augury, and presently Dane retired tranquilly to sleep again.
Early the next morning the mate and the skipper went ashore with him at a cluster of white-washed buildings, over the largest of which the tricolor floated, and were courteously received by a little elderly officer. His secretary took down the statements made by the captain and mate, and when these had been sworn to, he quoted from a book before him as he turned to Dane.
"It sounds like a romance, but we have proof that Monsieur speaks the truth," he said. "He will return to Petit Mahu with an official who will examine the traders and the Indigene. Until his report is considered, Monsieur will not leave this colony. In touching the gold, the signature of this contract is undoubtedly that of Victor Rideau, and under the terms of it his share is forfeit. Thus, subject to certain fees, Monsieur retains possession. In regard to the position of the river he decides to say nothing? It is not convenient that more white men lose their lives in that country of the devil, or cause the bad understanding with the Indigene. We have not yet open it for exploitation. Our information describes it as barren, and without value, which Monsieur will, I think, not contradict."
Dane had little trouble with the authorities. A commendable absence of useless formalities characterized all their dealings with him, and in a very brief space he was free to leave the colony. His men had been paid much more than they bargained for, and it was with genuine regret that he took leave of the last of them; it was with difficulty that he dissuadedMonday from accompanying him to England. The few Kroos remaining at Mahu when he left paddled him off to his steamer; and looking back from her deck, he could see Amadu's tall figure on the beach. Redmond and Gilby came on board, and, dining there, celebrated the parting so thoroughly that several seamen were needed to assist them into their boat, while how any of the party ran the gauntlet of the surf was more than Dane knew. They were not men of much refinement and had their weaknesses, black and white alike; but he owed a good deal to the sturdy heathen, while the two of paler color, instead of turning aside from a distressed compatriot, had shown themselves ready to assist him with a warm-hearted recklessness not always to be found among those possessing a higher degree of culture.
Dane had one task still before him; and it was a hot afternoon when he called for the last time at Dom Pedro's factory. It seemed almost strange that everything should remain as he had last seen it—the little olive-faced gentleman lounging, cigarette in hand, against the veranda balustrade, and Bonita and her sleepy aunt lying in deep chairs in the shadow. In spite of the heat and sickness in that land, life goes smoothly at an African factory run by men of Latin race.
Dane was puzzled by something in Bonita's manner as she rose to meet him. She showed little pleasure, but rather suppressed anxiety, and looked past him toward the beach as though expecting somebody. Even Dom Pedro seemed shaken out of his usual serenity, the señora's eyes were open wide, and there was a silence after the opening courtesies.
"It is with the great satisfaction we see you safe,"said Dom Pedro, though satisfaction was not what his voice most clearly expressed. "But you bring us news? Two of you go up yonder, and there is a third who follow. One only he comes back."
Dane guessed that the speaker's anxiety chiefly concerned the third who followed, and the implied question was the least difficult to answer.
"I have news," he said. "The man who followed us was no friend of yours, señorita?"
Bonita Castro's lips curled scornfully.
"No. I have little cause to be a friend of him."
"He will harass you no longer. He is dead," said Dane.
There was no pity, but rather pride and a still strained anxiety in the girl's eyes.
"It is as I told you, padre. The dog has failed in his treachery and the Señor Maxwell has kill him."
"No. He was drowned at sea."
"It was not the Señor Maxwell who kill him? And the man with the cross on his forehead?"
"No," said Dane. "Rideau was drowned while trying to avoid me. The man with the cross on his forehead is also dead. He twice attempted my comrade's life, and I shot him one night when he was crawling toward my tent."
Bonita bent her head in a curious formal salutation.
"Our felicitations, Don Ilton. And the Señor Maxwell?"
Her voice grew a little deeper with the last question, and there was a note in it which puzzled Dane, while she cast a swift glance toward the second surf-boat lurching in shore from the anchored steamer. The man hesitated before he answered.
"He also is dead, señorita. He was treacherously murdered in the forest beyond the Leopards' country."
Amid all the memories Dane carried with him from Africa there were only two which equaled in vividness that of the few following moments. The girl stifled a half-articulate cry, and a heavy silence succeeded. Dom Pedro grasped the rails hard with genuine consternation in his face; and there was horror in the señora's expression. Bonita stood stiffly upright, with lips turned suddenly bloodless and a look that astonished Dane in her dilated eyes. Beyond that space of shadow there was dazzling sunlight, and to emphasize the stillness on the veranda the hot air vibrated with the roar of the sea. The girl appeared to choke for breath. Understanding suddenly, Dane turned his eyes away. It was the señora who spoke first.
"All dead.Reina de los angeles—ave!" she murmured.
Dane, looking round again, saw that Bonita was mistress of herself. It was all clear now, and he admired as well as pitied her. Passionate, vindictive, wayward as she was, the blow had stirred within her the pride of her race, and it was with a queenly air she turned toward him.
"The señor will pardon us if we give him pain, but he will tell us all. Of Rideau's treachery, and—how his comrade fell."
Dane fancied that he was the only one in the party who had guessed the girl's secret; and he might not have done so but that sympathy quickened his perceptions, for he also had loved Carsluith Maxwell. He felt that it might be well for Bonita Castro if sheheard everything, and he roused himself to do his fallen comrade justice. Thus the dead man moved an heroic figure through all the kaleidoscopic happenings. The rest, black and brown, were lay figures, himself a puppet obeying the leader's will; and, when the narrative concluded, Dane felt that if others now knew his comrade as he had known him he was satisfied. Remembering what he had seen he could, he fancied, read by the light of it what was passing in Bonita Castro's mind. At times she listened with quivering lips, then a moisture gathered in her eyes, which nevertheless glittered with a curious pride, and he thought her superb when at last, with a glance only, she thanked the bringer of the news.
"He was allcaballero, as you say, a very gallant gentleman. I will pray for the sound rest of him," she said.
Dom Pedro moved uneasily.
"He was a man without principle this Rideau. With excuses to the señor, I would my books examine, and try to figure of how much he rob me," he said, and hurried away.
Bonita followed, and Dane was left with her sleepy aunt who presently astonished him. The señora, it appeared, was a lady of much keener perceptions than he had imagined; and he understood why she told him what had happened during Rideau's last visit to the factory. It was evident that Dane owed his life in a measure to her niece. When she concluded, the lady lapsed into a somnolent silence, which, if assumed, was tactful, leaving the man, who was glad of a respite from conversational effort, to digest the information.
Dom Pedro had cargo for the steamer, and it waslate when Dane said good-by to Bonita on the moonlit veranda. It may have been due to the silvery light, but she seemed to have changed, and Dane shrank a little from meeting her. Bonita, however, spoke very quietly.
"I have a confession to make," she said. "You have done much for my father, and it is right that I tell you."
"Please don't, señorita," Dane interposed; but the girl checked him.
"You lost the Señor Maxwell's map here, and I, who found it, sold it Rideau. It was the infamy, but the price was tempting—and I knew one of you would kill him. You will try to forget the injury?"
"I think I know why you did it, and I do not blame you," said Dane. "I shall most clearly remember that, when I was sick, you saved my life for me, as I think you did again when you helped my comrade to forestall Rideau."
Bonita smiled a little.
"You are generous, but I would have it so. Then we are, as you say, the equal. I have been able to help you. You give me my liberty. You sail now for England, Don Ilton?"
"Yes," said Dane; and again Bonita Castro astonished him.
"She loves you?" she asked simply.
The question was startling, and the man answered stupidly.
"I hope so. I—I do not know."
For a moment the swift laughter rose to the girl's eyes, but died in its birth, and the movement of her hands that followed it stirred the man's pity.
"You do not know? I saw the picture, and it was for her you went up into the Leopards' country. You are a strange people, Don Ilton—and the Señor Maxwell, he was like you?"
Dane afterward remained uncertain why he spoke as he did, but the words framed themselves, as it were, without his volition.
"No," he said; "nobody could compare me with Maxwell. Nor do I think I have met many such as he; but when he was dying, he spoke much of you. He told me you had promised to help us, and that he could trust you. It was almost his last charge that I should tell you so."
Dane knew by her swift grateful glance that Bonita Castro blessed him for the speech. In impulsive southern fashion, she held out both hands to him.
"Vaya con Dios, and the good saints send you happiness! I think we neither of us forget what has happened here, Don Ilton."
The last words ended in something like a sob, and Dane, who could think of no fitting words to say, only crushed the little hot hands in his own and swung his hat low as he turned away. Dom Pedro walked to the surf-boat with him, but Dane scarcely heard what he said, for his thoughts were centered on the girl, who stood, a pathetic figure, gazing after him from the moonlit veranda.
The Krooboys were slow to reach the steamer, but Dane was the better pleased, for he hardly felt equal to facing the questions or the badinage of her passengers just then.
It was a sunny afternoon when the little West Coast mailboat's engines ceased their throbbing off the mole of Santa Cruz, Teneriffe. Clear skies had hung over her as she rolled northward in no great hurry, and the fresh breezes which curl the sparkling sea between Morocco and the fever coast had brought new life to her sickly passengers. Dane felt his heart grow lighter as each league of deep blue water rolled astern, and the shadow of the dark land had almost fallen from him when the Canaries rose out of the sea. He had youth on his side, besides a comparatively clean conscience and a sound constitution; and a little chest consigned by him to a British bank was locked in the steamer's specie room. Though he would gladly have flung its contents into the sea to undo the past, regrets were futile. So, with a courage which sprang rather from humility than pride, he had determined to ask Lilian Chatterton to either share his struggles or await his prosperity.
The long black mole slid past, the bows forged more slowly through the crystal brine, and the harbor opened up. Even before the yellow flag fluttered aloft, boats by the dozen shot out from the lava steps, and Dane eagerly scanned the faces of their occupants. They were fruit peddlers, shipping and coaling clerks, and he sighed with disappointment as he next swept hiseyes along the mole. Nobody among the loungers there raised a hat or a handkerchief.
"Expecting friends?" asked the purser, halting beside him.
"I was," Dane answered dejectedly. "Although I cabled from the Coast, I don't see them."
"I wouldn't count too much on that," smiled the purser. "Nobody is very particular in Spanish possessions, and it's quite possible they lost your message or couldn't decipher the English name. We shall fill up here with tourists, and if you are going home with us you must let me know."
"I can't tell you now," Dane said. "It depends on what I hear ashore."
"Well, I won't keep a berth for you."
He left Dane troubled when he turned away, for he had certainly expected Chatterton to welcome him and he had counted the days until he could ask Lilian an eventful question. He had hoped also that the cable message would have prepared them for his tidings; he shrank from again appearing unexpectedly as the bearer of tragic news. There was no time to be lost, however, and he went ashore in the first boat. Strange faces looked down at him from the mole, and no friendly voice was raised in greeting; and further annoyance awaited him when he hurried into the hotel.
Mr. Chatterton and family had stayed there for a time, but had left, the major-domo said. He thought they had gone to Madeira, but they might have sailed for England, or anywhere. It was not his business to ask where any Englishman wandered to, but the clerk might know. The clerk, it appeared, was out, and might not be back for an hour or so, but the major-domo suggested that in the meantime something might be gathered by an examination of the visitors' letters in his office. He showed Dane where the office was, and then shrugged his shoulders.
"What pity! Ramon he have lock the door," he said.
"That's a very small obstacle," answered Dane. "Nobody else has a key, I suppose, so I'm going to get in through the window, and I will most certainly break it if he has fastened that up, too."
There were murmurs of protest, and Dane fancied that half the staff gathered in the hall and watched him endeavor to wrench the sash out by main force. When he had almost accomplished it, somebody suggested that when Ramon locked the front door he usually left one at the side open. It was a characteristic example of how things are managed in Latin countries; and the next minute Dane was busy turning over a bundle of letters in the office. There were several for Thomas and Mrs. Chatterton, and the sight of them filled him with satisfaction. Then his eye was caught by his own name on the top of two envelopes reforwarded to Chatterton, and after a swift glance at the embossed name on the back, he tore the first open.
It was from a celebrated engineering firm, and his blood pulsed faster as he read it:
"Although when you last called upon us we could not quite see our way to do so on the terms you mentioned, we are now prepared to undertake the manufacture and sale of your invention on the following conditions."
Dane saw that the conditions were as favorable as any non-capitalist inventor could expect, but he felt that the gold he had sent home would help him to improve them; and it was with a thrill of satisfaction that heopened the second letter. This was from his last employers, offering him reasonable remuneration if he would undertake the supervision of the machines and bridge work they were sending out to execute an important railroad-building contract abroad.
Here was one difficulty removed, at least. Dane hastened to the cable offices, and felt a great contentment when his messages were on the wires. His prospects were improving, and it was encouraging to know he would not pose as a wholly indigent suitor. When he reached the hotel once more, the clerk had returned, and informed him that Mr. Chatterton and family had retired for the sake of coolness to Laguna, five or six miles away.
Dane procured a horse, and within the next few minutes he was urging it at its best pace up the steep hillside. The horse, as it happened, was a good one, and its rider's spirits rose higher as each mile went by. It was a fine evening, and to one fresh from the enervating heat of Africa, there was a wonderful buoyancy in the cool air that came down from the cordillera. It was a refreshing change to see the merry brown faces of the peasants who saluted him as he passed, and hear the laughter of the mule drivers as their climbing teams dropped behind. Dane had almost forgotten the dark land when the white walls of drowsy Laguna rose to view. The loungers in the plaza knew the Englishman Dane inquired for, and one of them preceded him down a narrow street with a dignified leisureliness which even the sight of a dollar failed to dissipate, and finally halted outside a high-walled garden doubtless laid out by some Castilian conquistador four centuries ago.
Dane swung himself from the saddle before a doorornamented by a beautiful bronze bell handle, and spent two minutes pulling the bell vigorously. There was no answer nor any sound within, and remembering that it did not necessarily follow that the handle had a wire attached, he stepped back into the roadway and flung himself against the barrier. A hasp of some kind yielded, and he staggered forward into the garden. The sun was dipping behind the cordillera, but its red light beat into his eyes, and at first he could see only a row of crimson oleanders stretching away before him. Their fragrance and the scent of heliotrope was heavy within his nostrils. Passing through the shadow of an orange-tree he made out a white wall garlanded by blue bougainvillea, and halted at the sound of a startled voice as his eyes fell upon the group on the terrace beneath it.
Thomas Chatterton had flung his chair back, and stood up with a flushed face, speaking excitedly. His niece also had risen, and her gaze was fixed upon the man who came hurriedly out of the shadow of the tree. She was silent, but Dane read in her eyes that which set his heart beating, and for a second or two he saw only the dainty figure and the smiling face turned toward his own.
The elation suddenly died out within him, and it was by an effort that he moved forward, for there was a third in the party. A man with iron-gray hair stood a little apart from the rest, and while each of his companions showed that they rejoiced to see the new arrival, he was gazing fixedly at the open door behind him. Dane saw that it was Brandram Maxwell of Culmeny, and knew why he watched the door.
"This is even more than we hoped for, Hilton, though we have all been anxiously waiting for news of you,"said Chatterton. "Thank Heaven you are safe anyway. Worth a good many dead men, isn't he, Lilian? She knew Maxwell would bring you out; and when I grew anxious her confidence reassured me. But why didn't you cable—and where is Maxwell?"
Dane disregarded the last question, for Lilian laid her hand in his. He was not certain what she said, but her eyes were shining under the half-closed lashes in a fashion that was eloquent enough. Still Dane could not linger to wonder what, if they were fully opened, he might see within them, for Chatterton repeated his question.
"Where have you left Carsluith. Did he not come up with you from Santa Cruz?"
"No," Dane answered, and his voice shook a little. "Did you receive my cable?"
"We did not," said Chatterton. "What has gone wrong, Hilton. Speak out, man!"
Lilian, guided by some womanly instinct, laid her hand warningly on the speaker's arm, and Dane nerved himself for the hardest task of all, as the owner of Culmeny, moving forward, stood close beside him. He was very much like what Dane's dead comrade had been—wiry, spare, and grim. The drooping gray moustache matched the pallor of his face; but his eyes were steady and keen, and only a deepening of the lines about them betrayed his anxiety.
"I fear you bring bad news," he said.
"I do," Dane answered as steadily as he could, though the older man's composure rendered his task even harder than a sign of weakness would have done. "I had hoped the cable I sent might have prepared you—and now I hardly know how to tell you."
It was just possible to see that a tremor ran through Maxwell and his lean hand closed a little more firmly than was needful on the back of a chair.
"Brevity is best. Disaster has overtaken him?"
"Yes."
The owner of Culmeny looked him full in the eyes, and it was some time before Dane could shake off the memory of that gaze.
"It is the worst—he is dead?" he said; and Dane mutely bent his head.
Brandram Maxwell's fingers trembled, and for a moment he looked at the ground; then he spoke very quietly:
"I feared this when I saw he was not with you. Tell me how it happened. It is not the first shrewd blow fate has dealt me."
Chatterton and Lilian would have turned away, but Maxwell beckoned them to remain.
"No. We have grown to be good friends, and I should like you to hear it, too," he said, looking toward Lilian. "There will be no cause for any one who knew my son to blush at this story. It will be a kindness if you hide nothing, Hilton."
Dane afterward wondered how he got through that recital. At the beginning speech seemed to fail him, but one listener's spirit infected him as he proceeded, and pride was mingled with the man's grief, for what he had seen in Bonita Castro's face he read in that of the owner of Culmeny. It was dark when he concluded:
"I can tell you nothing more, sir, and, though God knows it is the truth, it is useless to say that I would willingly have staked my own life on the chance of saving him."
Lilian appeared to be crying softly, and Chatterton troubled with something in his throat, for he coughed several times vigorously, but Maxwell held out his hand to Dane.
"I believe you would. You were his friend," he said, still with a startling quietness. "You did your best for my dead son, and no man dare blame you. It is a brave story, and I am not ashamed of his end. It was in accordance with the traditions of an unfortunate family. But you will excuse me. I am getting an old man and weaker in the fiber than I used to be."
He turned away, holding himself stiffly erect, and Chatterton laid a heavy grasp on Dane's shoulder.
"Well done, Hilton. If you had not chased that damned rascal to his death I'd have sent you back with another expedition to take up the hunt again. I am sorry for Culmeny. He was fonder of Carsluith than anything else under heaven, and you saw how he took the blow. Well, I won my own place, and went through the fire for it, but the brand Culmeny wears is what I could never attain to. They were alike, both of them, and it will be a long time before we find their equal. Perhaps I had better follow and try to comfort him."
It struck Dane that Thomas Chatterton, though not lacking in sympathy, would hardly make a tactful comforter, but he did not say so, and Lilian seemed content to let him go.
"You are not sorry to see me, Lilian?" asked Dane, taking one of the girl's hands into his own, for her cheeks were damp yet, and bending, he caught her answer.
"No, but I was shocked. Hilton, I felt that when he went out to save you he knew he was going to his death, and I—I let him go."
"Even you could not have turned him aside," said Dane.
"I—right or wrong—I did not try."
"He was a better man than I am," declared Dane. "But it is fortunate that there are women who can be content with less than the best, and make up the deficiencies themselves. Will you listen to a little tale, one which is rather amusing than somber?"
"Is it about the poacher? If so, you need not tell me. You must also take the confession I ought to make for granted. You were always a blunderer, Hilton."
"I dare say I was," Dane answered, laying his hand on the girl's shoulder in a masterful fashion. "And my last adventure was perhaps the maddest freak of all; but that is beside the question. I once made a very vague arrangement with you, though you kindly said we understood each other. Now, I must ask you, do you wish that understanding to continue. If so, the only way for me to keep it would be to go back to Africa. A steamer sails to-morrow."
"No," the girl said shyly, then lifted her head and glanced at her companion. "I dare not send you back to that hateful country, Hilton."
There was no need for further speech. Dane knew that he had won at last.
THE END