“No; what?”
“For many years he vowed death to all Englishmen, since it was an Englishman who had caused the death of his brother. He had a ship; he got a crew and sailed through the Eastern seas, capturing English ships and killing the crews. This was his vengeance.” Vijal gave a groan.
“You see he has done more than you. He knew better than you who it was that had killed your father.”
“Who was it?” cried Vijal, fiercely.
“I saw him twice,” continued Brandon, without noticing the question, of the other. “I saw him twice, and twice he told me the name of the man whose death he sought. For year after year he had sought after that man, but had not found him. Hundreds of Englishmen had fallen. He told me the name of the man whom he sought, and charged me to carry out his work of vengeance. I promised to do so, for I had a work of vengeance of my own to perform, and on the same man, too.
“Who was he?” repeated Vijal, with increased excitement.
“When I saw him last he gave me something which he said he had worn around his neck for years. I took it, and promised to wear it till the vengeance which he sought should be accomplished. I did so for I too had a debt of vengeance stronger than his, and on the same man.”
“Who was he?” cried Vijal again, with restless impetuosity.
Brandon unbuttoned his vest and drew forth a Malay creese, which was hung around his neck and worn under his coat.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked, solemnly.