Harry had been walking for some time with his eyes fixed upon the ground. He was wondering what the end of all this strange business was to be.
He knew that von Hardenberg had stolen the Sunstone, that he carried it upon his person. It was Harry's ambition, the very lodestone of his life, to recover the Sunstone for his uncle. It was von Hardenberg's object to reach the Caves of Zoroaster, and possess himself of the treasure. This was the man's only aim, for which he had proved that he was prepared to sacrifice his country and his honour.
As he walked, Harry was thinking of these things, when, on a sudden, there came a flash of fire, not ten paces to the right. He pulled up with a jerk, and heard a bullet sing past his head like some evil spirit in the darkness. Then there came a stinging sensation in the lobe of an ear, and a moment later he felt the warm blood flowing down his neck.
He saw a figure flying in the night, and with a loud cry took up the pursuit. A few seconds later he had flung himself upon a man who struggled in his grasp. On the instant each seized the other by the throat, and in the moonlight Harry recognized that he had come to death-grips with his cousin, Captain von Hardenberg himself.
No sooner was he aware who his opponent was than he saw at once that here was a chance to capture the Sunstone, and for that end he struggled with the desperation that means more than strength.
Placing one leg behind his adversary, and pressing with all his force upon his chest, he endeavoured to throw von Hardenberg backward. And even as he wrestled he felt the Sunstone, sewn in the lining of the Prussian's coat.
Gradually von Hardenberg was forced backward, and then at last he fell, coming heavily to the ground. In his fall he struck his head against a rock, and after that he lay quite motionless and silent.
Harry could hear the footsteps of approaching men. On one hand Jim Braid and Fernando hastened to the boy's assistance; on the other, the Black Dog came forward with rapidity.
As quick as thought Harry pulled out his pocketknife. He had but to rip open von Hardenberg's coat and the Sunstone was his, their journey was at an end.
A sharp cut with the knife, a hand that trembled with excitement thrust through the opening, and Harry's fingers closed upon the precious relic he had come so many miles to gain.