More than ever they were hemmed in by mystery on mystery.

The Shadow went back and reported to Felix.  Felix, turning it over in his own mind, wondered and debated.  Was this true, or a trap to lure him to destruction?

As the night wore on, and the hour drew nigh, Muriel sat beside her friend and lover, in blank despair and agony.  How could she ever allow him to leave her now?  How could she venture to remain alone with Mali in her hut in this last extremity?  It was awful to be so girt with mysterious enemies.  “I must go with you, Felix!  I must go, too!” she cried over and over again.  “I daren’t remain behind with all these awful men.  And then, if he kills either of us, he will kill us at least both together.”

But Felix knew he might do nothing of the sort.  A more terrible chance was still in reserve.  He might spare Muriel.  And against that awful possibility he felt it his duty now to guard at all hazard.

“No, Muriel,” he said, kissing her, and holding her pale hand, “I must go alone.  You can’t come with me.  If I return, we will have gained at least a respite, till the Australasian may turn up.  If I don’t, you will at any rate have strength of mind left to swallow the poison, before Tu-Kila-Kila comes to claim you.”

Hour after hour passed by slowly, and Felix and the Shadow watched the stars at the door, to know when the hour for the attempt had arrived.  The eyes of Tu-Kila-Kila, peering silent from just beyond the line, saw them watching all the time, but gave no sign or token of disapproval.  With heads bent low, and tangled hair about their faces, they stood like statues, watching, watching sullenly.  Were they only waiting till he moved, Felix wondered; and would they then hasten off by short routes through the jungle to warn their master of the impending conflict?

At last the hour came when Felix felt sure there was the greatest chance of Tu-Kila-Kila sleeping soundly in his hut, and forgetting the defence of the sacred bough on the holy banyan-tree.  He rose from his seat with a gesture for silence, and moved forward to Muriel.  The poor girl flung herself, all tears, into his arms.  “Oh, Felix, Felix,” she cried, “redeem your promise now!  Kill us both here together, and then, at least, I shall never be separated from you!  It wouldn’t be wrong!  It can’t be wrong!  We would surely be forgiven if we did it only to escape falling into the hands of these terrible savages!”

Felix clasped her to his bosom with a faltering heart.  “No, Muriel,” he said, slowly.  “Not yet.  Not yet.  I must leave no opening on earth untried by which I can possibly or conceivably save you.  It’s as hard for me to leave you here alone as for you to be left.  But for your own dear sake, I must steel myself.  I must do it.”

He kissed her many times over.  He wiped away her tears.  Then, with a gentle movement, he untwined her clasping arms.  “You must let me go, my own darling,” he said, “You must let me go, without crossing the border.  If you pass beyond the taboo-line to-night, Heaven only knows what, perhaps, may happen to you.  We must give these people no handle of offence.  Good-night, Muriel, my own heart’s wife; and if I never come back, then good-by forever.”