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!"