Iris touched his arm and whispered-- "What have you decided?
I did not dare to speak lest he should hear my voice." Poor girl! She was sure the Dyak could not penetrate her disguise, though she feared from the manner in which the conference broke up that it had not been satisfactory.
Jenks did not answer her.

He knew that if he killed Taung S'Ali his men would be so dispirited that when the night came they would fly.

There was so much at stake--Iris, wealth, love, happiness, life itself--all depended on his plighted word.

Yet his savage enemy, a slayer of women, a human vampire soiled with every conceivable crime, was stalking back to safety with a certain dignified strut, calmly trusting to the white man's bond.
Oh, it was cruel! The ordeal of that ghastly moment was more trying than all that he had hitherto experienced.

He gave a choking sob of relief when the silken-clad scoundrel passed out of sight without even deigning to give another glance at the ledge or at those who silently watched him.
Iris could not guess the nature of the mortal struggle raging in the sailor's soul.
"Tell me," she repeated, "what have you done ?" "Kept faith with that swaggering ruffian," he said, with an odd feeling of thankfulness that he spoke truly.
"Why?
Have you made him any promise ?" "Unhappily I permitted him to come here, so I had to let him go.