slightest flavour of his vengeance. I played up to him nobly, squirming
as if in an agony of terror. But by this time I had got a comfortable
posture on the rock, and my left shoulder was towards him.

At last he made his choice, and so did I. I never thought that I could
miss, for if I had had any doubt I should have failed. I was as
confident in my sureness as any saint in the mercy of God.

He raised his bow, but it never reached his shoulder. My left arm shot
out, and my last bullet went through his brain.

He toppled forward and plunged into the pool. The grease from his body
floated up, and made a scum on the surface.

Then I broke off the arrow and pulled it out of my arm, putting the
pieces in my pocket. The water cleared, and I could see him lying in
the cool blue depths, his eyes staring, his mouth open, and a little
dark eddy about his forehead.




CHAPTER XXVI.

SHALAH.

I came out of the wood a new being. My wounded arm and my torn and
inflamed limbs were forgotten. I held my head high, and walked like a
free man. It was not that I had slain my enemy and been delivered from
deadly peril, nor had I any clearer light on my next step. But I had