His pipe was nearly out,and a cooler breeze was stealing over the plain.After all,perhaps an hour or so's sleep would be possible now.He stretched himself and yawned,cast one more glance across the moonlit plain,and then stood suddenly still,stiffened into an attitude of breathless interest.Yonder,between two lines of shrubs,were moving bodies -men,footsore and weary,crawling along with slow,painful movements;one at least of them was a European,and even at that distance Trent could tell that they were in grievous straits.He felt for his revolver,and,finding that it was in his belt,descended the hill quickly towards them.
With every step which he took he could distinguish them more plainly.There were five Kru boys,a native of a tribe which he did not recognise,and a European who walked with reeling footsteps,and who,it was easy to see,was on the point of exhaustion.Soon they saw him,and a feeble shout greeted his approach.Trent was within hailing distance before he recognised the European.Then,with a little exclamation of surprise,he saw that it was Captain Francis.
They met face to face in a moment,but Francis never recognised him.
His eyes were bloodshot,a coarse beard disguised his face,and his clothes hung about him in rags.Evidently he was in a terrible plight.When he spoke his voice sounded shrill and cracked.
"We are starving men,"he said;"can you help us?""Of course we can,"Trent answered quickly."This way.We've plenty of stores."The little party stumbled eagerly after him.In a few moments they were at the camp.Trent roused his companions,packages were hastily undone and a meal prepared.Scarcely a word was said or a question asked.One or two of the Kru boys seemed on the verge of insanity -Francis himself was hysterical and faint.Trent boiled a kettle and made some beef-tea himself.The first mouthful Francis was unable to swallow.His throat had swollen and his eyes were hideously bloodshot.Trent,who had seen men before in dire straits,fed him from a spoon and forced brandy between his lips.Certainly,at the time,he never stopped to consider that he was helping back to life the man who in all the world was most likely to do him ill.
"Better?"he asked presently.
"Much.What luck to find you.What are you after -gold?"Trent shook his head.
"Not at present.We're planning out the new road from Attra to Bekwando."Francis looked up with surprise.
"Never heard of it,"he said;"but there's trouble ahead for you.
They are dancing the war-dance at Bekwando,and the King has been shut up for three days with the priest and never opened his mouth.
We were on our way from the interior,and relied upon them for food and drink.They've always been friendly,but this time we barely escaped with our lives."Trent's face grew serious.This was bad news for him,and he was thankful that they had not carried out their first plan and commenced their prospecting at Bekwando village.
"We have a charter,"he said,"and,if necessary,we must fight.
I'm glad to be prepared though."
"A charter!"Francis pulled himself together and looked curiously at the man who was still bending over him.
"Great Heavens!"he exclaimed,"why,you are Scarlett Trent,the man whom I met with poor Villiers in Bekwando years ago."Trent nodded.
"We waited for you,"he said,"to witness our concession.I thought that you would remember.""I thought,"Francis said slowly,"that there was something familiar about you....I remember it all now.You were gambling with poor old Monty for his daughter's picture against a bottle of brandy."Trent winced a little.
"You have an excellent memory,"he said drily.
Francis raised himself a little,and a fiercer note crept into his tone.
"It is coming back to me,"he said."I remember more about you now,Scarlett Trent.You are the man who left his partner to die in a jungle,that you might rob him of his share in the concession.Oh yes,you see my memory is coming back!I have an account against you,my man.""It's a lie!"said Trent passionately."When I left him,I honestly believed him to be a dead man.""How many people will believe that?"Francis scoffed."I shall take Monty with me to England.I have finished with this country for awhile -and then -and then -"He was exhausted,and sank back speechless.Trent sat and watched him,smoking in thoughtful silence.They two were a little apart from the others,and Francis was fainting.A hand upon his throat -a drop from that phial in the medicine-chest -and his faint would carry him into eternity.And still Trent sat and smoked.
