XIII. A PARLEY.


I TURNED again and went on down towards the sea. I found the hot stream
broadened out to a shallow, weedy sand, in which an abundance of crabs
and long-bodied, many-legged creatures started from my footfall.
I walked to the very edge of the salt water, and then I felt I was safe.
I turned and stared, arms akimbo, at the thick green behind me,
into which the steamy ravine cut like a smoking gash.
But, as I say, I was too full of excitement and (a true saying,
though those who have never known danger may doubt it) too desperate
to die.

Then it came into my head that there was one chance before me yet.
While Moreau and Montgomery and their bestial rabble chased me
through the island, might I not go round the beach until I came
to their enclosure,--make a flank march upon them, in fact,
and then with a rock lugged out of their loosely-built wall, perhaps,
smash in the lock of the smaller door and see what I could find
(knife, pistol, or what not) to fight them with when they returned?
It was at any rate something to try.

So I turned to the westward and walked along by the water's edge.
The setting sun flashed his blinding heat into my eyes.
The slight Pacific tide was running in with a gentle ripple.
Presently the shore fell away southward, and the sun came round
upon my right hand. Then suddenly, far in front of me, I saw
first one and then several figures emerging from the bushes,--Moreau,
with his grey staghound, then Montgomery, and two others.