So far there had been no miscarriage, and to furnish light for the climax a torch had been kept ready by one of Amadu's men. It showed first the group of grim black figures which guarded the narrow path to the water through tall cane, and then a man in European dress who stood still, gasping with fear and rage.
It was Victor Rideau.
"See that no boy fires on him unless he moves!" Dane made shift to cry; and Rideau, turning, met him face to face.
"I have expected you a long time," Dane said brokenly, for the race had taxed his strength, and once more he was shaken by a fit of futile rage. "Now I can't tell you how I regret we did not meet just five minutes earlier."
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 could have 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."