Well, I was up against it now. In vain my memory protested against the credibility of the evidence which my eyes could not repudiate. Grundt was dead these four years; had I not seen him, dimly through the blue haze of smoke from my brother's automatic, sink back lifeless on the carpet in the billiard-room of that frontier Schloss? Had I not even read his obituary in the German newspapers?  
Yet here he stood before me again, the man as I had known him in the past, ruthless-looking, formidable, sinister in his clumsy, ill-fitting suit of black. Again I noted the immense bulk which, with the overlong sinewy arms, the bushy eyebrows and the black-tufted cheek-bones irresistibly suggested some fierce and gigantic man-ape. Beneath the right eye a red and angry scar, a deep indentation in the cheek-bone, solved at a glance the mystery which had almost paralysed my brain. My brother's aim had failed. That hideous cicatrice, accentuating the leer of the bold menacing eyes and of the cruel mouth, told me beyond all possibility of doubt, that, out of the dim, dark past, Clubfoot had again arisen to confront me.
 
A sort of cold despair settled down upon me. That Clubfoot would, in his good time, shoot and shoot to kill I made no doubt; for we had been mortal enemies and quarter did not ever come into Grundt's reckoning. All kinds of odd scenes from my crowded life swarmed into my mind; dear old Francis serving in the tennis-court at Prince's; a juggler on the Maidan at Calcutta, when I was a subaltern in India; Do?a Luisa, standing in Bard's gardens and rolling her white eyeballs at me....
 
Then Clubfoot laughed, a dry mirthless chuckle. The sound was forbidding enough but it braced me like a tonic. I had beaten this man before; I would beat him again. I dropped my eyes, seeking to locate my pistol.
 
"Five paces back, if you please, Herr Major," rang out a commanding voice from the rock. "And, to save misunderstanding, let me say that it would add to the decorum of the proceedings if you renounced any attempt to find your weapon...." He spoke in German in accents of deadly suavity. "On the occasion of our last meeting you—or was it your brother?—showed that your hand is the prompt servant of your brain, an invaluable asset (let me add in parenthesis) to the big-game hunter, but disconcerting in civilised society...."
 
What a commanding presence this man had! Again I was conscious of it as, before his slow and searching gaze, I fell back as ordered. He seemed to fill that narrow glen. This effect was not produced by his bulk (which was considerable) but by his amazing animal vitality, the mental and physical vigour of some great beast of prey.
 
Keeping me covered with his pistol, he lowered himself to a sitting position on the rock and with surprising agility in one crippled as he was, dropped heavily on to the slab. In a lightning motion he stooped and whipped up my automatic which, with a whirling motion of the left hand, he sent flying away into the bush.
 
"Now, Okewood," he remarked, "you can sit down! But be good enough to keep your hands above your head!"
 
He gave me the lead by seating himself on the rocky slab. I followed his example and dropped on to the ground.
 
"Would you mind," I asked, "if I clasped my hands behind my head? Otherwise, the position is fatiguing...."
 
"Not in the least," retorted Clubfoot, baring his teeth with a gleam of gold, "as long as you remember that I shoot quickly—and straight!"
 
He measured the distance between us with his eye and then, as though in deliberate challenge, laid his pistol down on the rock beside him. He produced a cigar case from his pocket.
 
"I seem to recollect that you are a cigar-smoker!" he began.
 
"Thanks," I retorted, remembering the holder I had picked up, "I don't smoke German cigars!"
 
Clubfoot chuckled amiably.
 
"Nor do I!" he rejoined. "I believe you will find these as good as any that ever came out of Havana. Not long ago I was a highly respected member of the Club there!"
 
And he tossed his case across to me, after selecting a cigar for himself. I let it lie. I was not taking favours from this man.
 
Grundt raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. But he made no comment on my ungraciousness.
 
"Herr Major!" he said as he bit off the end of his cigar, "I must once more congratulate you on the supreme excellence of your country's Secret Service! The intelligence system which located this remote island as the hiding-place, real or imaginary, of treasure, is remarkable! The resource you displayed in acquiring the document which now rests in the letter-case in your pocket does credit both to the service and yourself. My congratulations!"
 
Here he paused to light his cigar from a pocket-lighter and with lips pursed up, noisily exhaled a long puff of smoke, cocking his head to watch the smoke drift aloft. It was nonchalantly done. But I knew that in reality he was watching me.
 
I felt puzzled. Obviously, he was feeling his way; ergo, he was not sure of his ground. And he had no inkling, apparently, of the aimless way in which I had stumbled upon this amazing adventure. He seemed to believe that I was en service commandé. Well, I could put up a bit of bluff on that....
 
"You will at least do us the justice," he resumed, "of not withholding your admiration of the way in which, as the result of careful planning, this pleasant reunion of to-day was achieved. The luck was on your side that night at Rodriguez, Herr Major; if my orders had been carried out, we should have spared ourselves—and you—this cruise in the Pacific...."
 
"You mean," I retorted, "that, if your spy had done his work properly, he would have cut my throat as well as that other poor fellow's and the woman's...."
 
"I can honestly say," observed Clubfoot, blinking his eyes benignly at me, "that I should have sincerely deplored such an eventuality...."—he paused and smiled expansively;—"at hands other than my own...."
 
My brain was working rapidly. Grundt was apparently alone. But, knowing the man, I guessed he had help in the vicinity to summon at need. Therefore, even if I could get past that gun of his, a frontal attack was out of the question. I wondered whether, if my return to camp were over-long delayed, Garth or Carstairs would come out in search of me. At best we were only three. Against how many? So far I only knew of two, the stranger at the graveside and Black Pablo. But to have brought a ship here from Rodriguez argued a crew. In any case we were hopelessly outnumbered....
 
Curiously enough, Clubfoot himself answered my unspoken question.
 
"Now, Okewood," he said leaning forward and looking sharply at me, "I don't have to tell a man of your intuition and.... and imagination that the game is up. I shall be quite frank with you, jawohl. We are fourteen against you and your two companions. I am well acquainted with your movements, you see. And, to remove any misapprehension from your mind, let me say at once that I am not the only German in our company. You are not dealing exclusively with men of the calibre of Black Pablo whose minds are a confusion of m............