Babu conducted his friends to the presence of his kinsman the chief man of the town, and, having told his story, received a promise that the pirate should be taken up when he arrived and put in prison.  Meanwhile he appointed to the party a house in which to spend the night.

Baderoon boldly accompanied the crowd that followed them, saw the house, glanced between the heads of curious natives who watched the travellers while eating their supper, and noted the exact spot on the floor of the building where Van der Kemp threw down his mat and blanket, thus taking possession of his intended couch!  He did not, however, see that the hermit afterwards shifted his position a little, and that Babu, desiring to be near his friend, lay down on the vacated spot.

In the darkest hour of the night, when even the owls and bats had sought repose, the pirate captain stole out of the brake in which he had concealed himself, and, kriss in hand, glided under the house in which his enemy lay.

Native houses, as we have elsewhere explained, are usually built on posts, so that there is an open space under the floors, which is available as a store or lumber-room.  It is also unfortunately available for evil purposes.  The bamboo flooring is not laid so closely but that sounds inside may be heard distinctly by any one listening below.  Voices were heard by the pirate as he approached, which arrested his steps.  They were those of Van der Kemp and Nigel engaged in conversation.  Baderoon knew that as long as his enemy was awake and conversing he might probably be sitting up and not in a position suitable to his fell purpose.  He crouched therefore among some lumber like a tiger abiding its time.

“Why are you so anxious not to meet this man?” asked Nigel, who was resolved, if possible without giving offence, to be at the bottom of the mystery.

For some moments the hermit was silent, then in a constrained voice he said slowly—­

“Because revenge burns fiercely in my breast.  I have striven to crush it, but cannot.  I fear to meet him lest I kill him.”

“Has he, then, done you such foul wrong?”

“Ay, he has cruelly—­fiendishly—­done the worst he could.  He robbed me of my only child—­but I may not talk of it.  The unholy desire for vengeance burns more fiercely when I talk.  ’Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.’  My constant prayer is that I may not meet him.  Good-night.”

As the hermit thus put an abrupt end to the conversation he lay down and drew his blanket over him.  Nigel followed his example, wondering at what he had heard, and in a few minutes their steady regular breathing told that they were both asleep.  Then Baderoon advanced and counted the bamboo planks from the side towards the centre of the house.  When looking between the heads of the people he had counted the same planks above.  Standing under one he looked up, listened intently for a few seconds, and drew his kriss.  The place was almost pitch dark, yet the blade caught a faint gleam from without, which it reflected on the pirate’s face as he thrust the long keen weapon swiftly, yet deliberately, between the bamboos.