At any rate he halted with Alan, who stood beside him, the revolver of which Aylward had been relieved by Jeekie, in his hand.

Meanwhile Jeekie, who held the rifle which he had reloaded, went on and met the natives about twenty yards away.
"We always disliked each other, Vernon, but I must say that I never thought a day would come when you proposed to murder me in my own camp," said Aylward.
"Odd thing," answered Alan, "but a very similar idea was in my mind.
I never thought, Lord Aylward, that however unscrupulous you might be--financially--a day would come when you would attempt to shoot down an unarmed man in an African forest.

Oh! don't waste breath in lying; I saw you recognize me, aim, and fire, after which Jeekie would have had the other barrel, and who then would have remained to tell the story, Lord Aylward ?" Aylward made no answer, but Alan felt that if wishes could kill him he would not live long.

His eye fell upon a long, unmistakable mound of fresh earth, beneath a tree.

He calculated its length, and with a thrill of terror noticed that it was too small for a negro.
"Who is buried there ?" he asked.
"Find out for yourself," was the sneering answer.
"Don't be afraid, Lord Aylward; I shall find out everything in time." The conversation between Jeekie and the natives proceeded, their heads were close together; it grew animated.