The peons had slowed down to a walk now—a walk confident, yet timid. They were altogether sure of the shark-charmer, and not a little afraid of the precipice. Not so the fugitive; for him all fear lay behind. He advanced to the very brink of the cliff. His arms dropped at his sides.
In upon him closed his pursuers with cat-like tread and alert eyes. They had no desire to be dashed over the cliff. Besides, was he not as good as caught? A mere span of rock divided him from their grasp. He stood motionless, half-turned towards them, apparently resigned to his fate.
Suddenly, however, hurling upon the close-drawn ranks a swift look of defiance, he wheeled full-face to the sea; wheeled, and drew his arms up and back.
Captain Leigh was the first to perceive the significance of the movement.
“Seize him!” he shouted, dashing through the line of peons; “quick, or he'll be over!... Good God!”
He fell back appalled. A stifled cry of horror broke from the peons. The shark-charmer had leapt into mid-air.
CHAPTER XXV.—BRINGS THE QUEST TO AN END.
Silent and pale as death, Don turned and stood for a moment facing Haunted Pagoda Hill, with head bared. His thoughts were with the captain as he had seen him on that terrible evening of the murder. Plainer than words his attitude cried: