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And the third of the things was Orris.

I had no doubt at all that it was he that had peered from the head of the little valley in which we had stood: and I was surprised and dismayed that such a man should have managed, in country so much against him, to cling to our heels. If he had got so far, it seemed extremely unlikely that we had shaken him off: and if I was right in this, he would assuredly follow us down to the smuggler’s way. It would be dark by then, but the night would favour Orris as much as it favoured us, for, while it would be harder to see us, he could approach much closer without being seen. Over all, I had a feeling that I had not done with the man. Since I was armed and weighed far more than he did, he would not be wise to attack: but the battle is not always to the strong, and Fortune will smile upon the man who ‘will never let go’.

There was nothing to be done, I decided, but to lay a trap for Orris and pray that he would walk in. When you wish to tackle a man who is following you, you turn a corner and stop and wait for him to come round. That is, of course, elementary. Now in the ordinary way, Orris was far too skilful to enter a trap like that: but across the smuggler’s way, there was running a minor torrent, none too easy to cross. There were, I daresay, a score of ways across it, but I had found only one which was close to the path. And this must be carefully taken, because the water was rough. If then we took this way – and turned aside in the bushes upon the opposite side, Orris, if he was behind us, must surely walk into my arms. For men of his sort dislike a noisy water, although, as a rule, its bark is worse than its bite.

Of such were my reflections that beautiful summer evening, while sunshine and shadow fought for the everlasting hills. Foot by foot, the former receded, and the exquisite peace of sundown covered the great retreat. The breeze hauled down its flag: sounds I had not been aware of stole on the air; and the cool of the valleys about us rose up in a cloud of fragrance no eye could see, refreshing my tired senses and lacing, as with a cordial, each breath I drew.

‘Now came still Evening on…’

I woke Colette, as I had sworn to wake her, just short of seven o’clock: but I had no desire to sleep, so the two of us watched together until it was nearly eight.

With her head against my shoulder—

“It is nearly time,” said Colette. “I cannot see forty paces: and when I cannot see twenty, we must be gone.”

I put an arm about her.

“Yes, my gallant Colette, it is nearly time.”

“You have won your match,” she said. “I think you will always win; for no one and nothing can stand against the force of your will.”

“I have had many failures, Colette; and I am not home yet.”

“You may call them failures, though I do not think most people would. You see, I know you, Adam. There is no cunning in you, although you are very wise: but there is within you a drive, the like of which I have never imagined before. When the wind was against us at Godel, you took charge – and raised the big tent in its teeth in ten minutes of time. It is that determination that forces the hand of Fortune, whether she will or no. And so we shall cross the frontier, bearing the gems…the gems which are a nonsuch…which the Boche and Friar and all the police in the country were out to take. But you will carry them out, as you meant to do. And tomorrow evening I shall not sit by your side…with your strong arm about me and my head against your breast. We are alone now, and so we can do as we please. There is no one to watch or whisper, because I have lost my heart.”

I took a deep breath.

“Do you want to distress me, Colette? I am a most ordinary man, but I belong to a world that you do not know. If you were to enter that world, you would take it by storm – a thing I have never done and could never do. You would be the rage, Colette. You would have so many suitors, you would not know which to choose. And then I should lose my stature, and you would find me a very ordinary man.”

“Did Eve do that?” said Colette.

I swallowed.

“I don’t think she ever found me anything else.”

“Shall we say she was easily pleased?”

“That goes without saying,” I said.

“Then we shall get on together, for so am I.”

“I cannot argue,” I said. “I never could. I only feed my opponent, as you can see. But I can make a plain statement, and here it is. During this venture of ours, you have been my rod and my staff. I could not have done, without you, what I have done. Now Bell has often been my rod and my staff. But you have been more than that. A great deal more. Twenty-four hours ago, when you came running towards me, my heart leaped up. When I wake, to meet your smile, I feel a new man. The sight of you, moving before me, makes me less tired. And when I hold you like this, the courage that is within you seems to flow into my veins. From first to last, Colette, you have been the light of my eyes.”

Colette made no answer, but only sat very still.

When at last I turned to regard her, I saw that tears were trickling upon her cheeks.

“Colette, my beauty!”

She hid her face in my jacket and spoke very low.

“I am – very – happy, my darling. A spring in my heart has broken, that I never knew was there. Your ‘plain statement’ has set it running; and now, though my body may age, my heart will be always young.”

With my eyes on the fading landscape, I sat very still, holding her close and feeling as feels a rich man who, in some game of hazard, has won from his poor opponent all that he had.

Nearly five hours had gone by and I could hear the roar of the torrent, a quarter of a mile ahead.

So far all had gone well.

Colette had never faltered, and, though I found the gems heavy – a signal, if ever there was one, that I was upon my last legs – the cool, night air, inspired with the generous virtue of countless springs, had been the saving of me. Tired as I was, I felt fresher than I had felt all day, because, I suppose, my blood was fortified.

One mercy we had been vouchsafed – Orris was gone. To this I could not swear, for I had not killed the man nor had I seen him die. But two miles back I had set my trap for him, and, though I had waited five minutes, he had not appeared. This was a great relief, for up to then I had walked with my chin on my shoulder, in case of accidents. But now it seemed clear that we could dismiss the spectre which had been lurking behind us for so many hours.

I touched Colette on her shoulder.

As she turned—

“Five minutes’ rest.” I said.

We turned aside and sat down.

“You can hear the water, Colette?”

“Yes, Adam.”

“When we come to cross it, I want you to wear the gems. I will fasten the cord round your neck and bind the bag to your back. So you will have your arms free. When we are over the torrent, then I will take them again.”

Her hand stole into mine.

“Of course I will bear them, Adam: but why do you wish me to?”

“In case I should fail to land. Then, when the rope stops swinging, we shall be hanging directly over the water, beneath a great bough. I do not think it will happen; but, if it should, when I jerk my head – for of course we cannot talk – you must lay hold of the rope, mount on my shoulders and clamber on to the bough. Move along it at once, until you come to the trunk. There you can wait for me or slip down to the ground.”

“I see,” said Colette. “And you?”

“Once your weight is gone, I shall follow you up. But this is only in case I should fail to land.”

“You might have failed to land when we crossed before. But you gave me no such instructions before we crossed.”

“I know. I should have done so. But now we have the gems with us, and we must take no risks.”

“I see,” said Colette, again. “And you will follow me up?”

“That’s right.”

“And if you have not the strength to climb the rope?”

I laughed.

“Of course I shall have the strength. It’s only about six feet; and I shall be up on the bough before you have reached the trunk.”

Colette held my hand very tight.

“Listen, my very dear. Let us cross the water in turn. I will go first, if you like. But for you to support us both is a fearful strain. And if you should fail to land…and, when the rope has stopped swinging, I am to stand upon your shoulders, as though upon the rung of a ladder, to reach the bough…I know you are very strong, but that is to ask too much of any man. You will see me up, I know: but supposing, after that, your tired arms cannot hoist you on to the bough…”

I shook my head.

“My sweet, I cannot let you cross that water alone. But I will meet you half way. Instead of clasping my neck, you shall lay hold of the rope before we take off. That will relieve me a lot. In any event, your weight is nothing at all, and I am so glad to carry ‘the light of my eyes’.”

Colette caught my hand to her lips.

After a moment—

“I will do as you say,” she said. “I will not fail you, my dear.”

And then we were moving again. Of instinct, I looked behind, but nothing blotted the darkness, which was not Stygian. Though there was no moon, the stars were very bright, and I could tell substance from shadow five or six paces away.

So we came to the savage water that barred our way.

At once I sought for the staple, to find the rope safe and sound. Having made sure, I left it; for I did not want to be hampered while I attired Colette. This was easy to do; but I had to open the kit-bag, to get at a length of cord. I did not pass the cord round her neck, for fear of embarrassing her, but over her shoulders, instead: then I crossed the ends on her chest and brought them back under her arms: then with four or five turns I bound the bag to her body, so that it could not move.

“Put up your arms, my beauty, and show me you’re free to move.”

She did as I said, bending forward and sideways and shaking herself. But the bag never moved.

“I shan’t speak again, till we’re over. But please hold on very tight, for the fairest of all the gems is not in the bag.”

She made as though she would answer, but when I bent my head, I felt her lips on my cheek.

For a moment, I held her close.

Then I stepped to the staple and loosed the rope.

I have said that, attached to the rope, was a fishing line. Before I unfastened the former, I took two turns of the latter about my wrist. I did this more of instinct than of intelligence, for the fishing line was also attached to the staple, and, had I let the rope go, I had but to pick up the line to pull it in. But, because I was so weary, I did as I did.

When I got back to Colette, she had put off her brogues and, tying them by their laces, had hung them about her neck. It was too late to protest, but I knew she had done it to spare me, in case she must mount upon my shoulders, to make her way into the tree.

And then, for the first time, I looked at that thirsty water, flowing out of and into the darkness and raging for a turbulent moment under our eyes. Savage, cold, ruthless, unearthly strong, though it did not seem to flaunt it, its power was manifest. The weight of a breaker is there for all to see – and the strength which it spends on some rock or the head of some pier. But the weight and fury of the torrent was more restrained and seemed to swallow resistance, punishing all obstruction, forcing narrows with a grim, overbearing thrust and reducing to the rank of pebbles the boulders that littered its bed.

Well, I had beaten it twice, and I would beat it again.

I turned to measure my distance.

Then I laid hold of the rope and signed to Colette.

In a trice she was on my back and, stretching up her arms, had grasped the rope above the grip of my hands.

I turned to smile into her eyes, and she bent her head.

I moved back as far as I could…

Then I hurled myself forward, with all my might.

And, as I launched us, somebody ‘tackled’ me low…

I knew, of course, who it was. What I shall never know is how, for all those miles, he had clung to our heels, not once declaring his presence, never approaching too close, nor falling too far behind, avoiding the trap I had set and sinking his very existence, until at last he had made me drop my guard. For that was what Orris had done. Had I looked over my shoulder before I took off, he must either have stayed in the shadows or launched his attack while my feet were still on the ground. But I did not look over my shoulder and so I played into his hands.

I sometimes think that he must have been able to see, as cats are said to be able, as well by night as by day: which would resolve the riddle, for the blind would then have been leading a rogue with the gift of sight.

Be that as it may, at the most perilous moment, Orris had struck.

He had, of course, surveyed our preparations – had watched me attire Colette and then unfasten the rope. Till then he had not perceived how we were proposing to cross so important a stream. But when, with Colette on my back, I laid hold of the rope, he saw, I suppose, in a flash not only how we were to cross, but that, once we had left the bank, he would see us no more.

And so he dropped his mask and flung himself upon me, to spoil our game.

By the mercy of God, he moved one instant too late to reach Colette, but he caught me about the thighs, and the three of us swung together over the flood.

The strain upon my arms was awful, but somehow I kept my hold; and, because of the drag on the rope at the moment of taking off, we hardly passed the dead centre and came to rest almost at once.

I jerked my head to the left.

At once Colette drew herself up…Then her knees were upon my shoulders…and then her feet…

For a moment she seemed to be groping…

And then she gave a light spring and I knew she was up on the bough.

At once I lashed out at Orris, as best I could. I dared not relax my grip, which was failing fast, but I kicked and squirmed like a madman, to shake him off. But he only clung the closer, using his nails on my flesh as the claws of a beast – a behaviour, I fancy, dictated as much by fear as by malice, for the torrent threatened much more than a watery grave.