Darkness was everywhere.
The figure of Old Danny had vanished, and he did not know what had become of the old villain.
The American detective clung for life to the step.
He tried to pull his body up, but the flight seemed to recede whenever he did so, and he taxed his powers in vain.
Somewhere in the darkness, he did not doubt, stood Danny, waiting for his doom.
The old scoundrel knew how to reach the safety point, but he (Old Broadbrim) had been trapped.
Why had he undertaken to hunt a man like Merle Macray all over the world?
To die in a trap like that?
At last he hung by the very tips of his fingers, as it were.
His body was already over the abyss, and he would in a few seconds be compelled to let go and drop.