ut with each of them it was the same; they came up lifting their
guns, looked into Ralph's grey eyes and slunk away muttering. Then,
cursing and swearing in his mad fury, Swart Piet drew the pistol from
his belt and rushing towards Ralph fired it into him so that he fell.
He stood over him and looked at him, the smoking pistol in his hand, but
the wide grey eyes remained open and the strong mouth still smiled.

"The dog lives yet," raved Swart Piet; "cast him into the sea, and let
the sea finish him."

But no man stirred; all stood silent as though they had been cut in
stone, and there, a little nearer the cliff edge, lay the silent form of
Suzanne.

Then Van Vooren seized Ralph and dragged him by the shoulders to the
brink of the precipice. His hair brushed the hair of Suzanne as his body
was trailed along the ground, and as he passed he whispered one word,
"Remember," into her ear, and she raised her head to look at him and
answered, "Now, and always." Then she let her head fall again.

Stooping down, Swart Piet lifted Ralph in his great arms, and crying
aloud: "Return into the sea out of which you came," he hurled him over
the edge of the cliff. Two seconds later the sound of a heavy splash
echoed up its sides; then, save for the murmur of the waterfall and the
surge of the surf upon the beach, all was still again.

CHAPTER XVI

HOW RALPH CAME BACK TO THE STEAD

For a few moments Swart Piet and his black ruffians stood staring now
at each other and now over the edge of the cliff into the deep sea-hole.
There, however, they could see nothing, for the moonbeams did not reach
its surface, and the only sound they heard was that of the dripping
of the little waterfall, which came to their ears like the tinkle of
distant sheep-bells. Then Swart Piet shivered and laughed aloud, a laugh
that had more of fear than of merriment in it.

"The Englishman called down the everlasting curse of God on me," he
cried. "Well, I have waited for it, and it does not come, so now for
man's reward," and going to where Suzanne lay, he set his arms beneath
her and turned her over upon her back. "She has swooned," he said;
"perhaps it is as well," and he stood looking at her, for thus in her
faint she seemed wonderfully fair with the moonbeams playing upon her
deathlike face.

"He had good taste, that Englishman," went on Swart Piet. "Well, now
our account is squared; he has sown and I shall harvest. Follow me, you
black fellows,