"Oh!" he cried, in bewilderment. "Here is Rolleston's trail! . . . This is the distinct pattern of his rubber soles! Can I believe my eyes?"
Almost immediately his quest assumed a more definite form. Fifty yards higher were the traces, still plainly marked, of a camp; and Simon declared:
"Of course! . . . Of course! . . . It was here that they landed last night! Like us, they must have fled before the sudden rise of the water; and like us, they camped on the further side of a hill. Oh," he continued, despairingly, "we were less than a mile from them! We could have surprised them in their sleep! Isn't it frightful to think that nothing told us of it . . . and that such an opportunity. . . ."
He squatted on his heels and, bending over the ground, examined it for some minutes. Then he rose, his eyes met those of Dolores and he said, in a low voice:
"There is one extraordinary thing. . . . How do you explain it?"
The girl's tanned face turned crimson; and he saw that she guessed what he was about to say:
"You came here this morning, Dolores, while I was asleep. Several times your footsteps cover those of our enemies, which proves that you came after they were gone. Why didn't you tell me?"
She was silent, with her eyes still fixed upon Simon's and her grave face animated by an expression of mingled defiance and fear. Suddenly Simon seized her hand:
"But then . . . but then you knew the truth! Ever since this morning, you have known that they went along the river-bank. . . . Look . . . over there . . . you can see their tracks leading eastward. . . . And you never told me! Worse than that. . . . Why, yes . . . it was you who called my attention to the cable. . . . It was you who set me going in a southerly direction . . . towards France. . . . And it is through you that we have lost nearly a whole day!"
Standing close up to her, with his eyes plumbing hers, holding her fingers in his, he resumed: