Throughout the scenes that followed Dikon had the feeling that he was peering into some room which at first seemed to be quite dark. But, he thought, out of the shadow nearer objects presently appeared so that first the figure of Huia and then that of Eru were distinguishable, while behind these, in deeper shadow, more significant forms awaited the slow adjustment of his vision.

Eru faced old Rua with an air strangely compounded of terror and effrontery. Dikon fancied that a struggle was at work in the halfcaste, between his European and his native impulses. If this was so the Maori, under Rua’s dominance, was the more potent agent. A shabby attempt at defiance soon broke down. Eru began with protestations and ended with a confession.

‘I never touched it. I never took it. I never seen it before.’

‘You knew where it rested. Huia, answer me. You told him where it was hidden?’

Huia nodded and burst into tears. Eru threw a venomous glance at her.

‘So you, Eru, stole it and took money for it from this man Questing?’

‘I never! I never knew he’d got it. I hadn’t got any time for him.’

‘Huia, did you tell Questing?’

‘No! No! Never, I never tell anyone but Eru. It was long time ago. I told Eru for fun when we go together. Nobody else. Eru told him.’

‘If I’d thought it was for that bastard,’ said Eru, ‘I’d never of told nobody.’ And with extraordinary venom he added: ‘You and your fancy pakeha. I might’ve picked Questing was at the back of it. Why the hell didn’t he say it was for Questing?’

‘To whom did you speak of this matter? Answer me.’

‘Come on, Eru,’ said Webley. ‘You won’t do yourself any good by holding out on it. There’s a serious charge mixed up in this business, don’t forget. You want to put yourself right, don’t you?’

‘I told Bert Smith,’ Eru muttered and Dikon thought he saw a little farther into the darkness of that shrouded room: not to the end, he thought, but a little farther. Webley moved forward and said to Simon, ‘Find Bert, will you?’

‘OK,’ said Simon.

When he appeared Smith was querulous and uneasy. ‘Can’t a bloke have any time to himself?’ he demanded and then saw the adze in Rua’s hand. ‘By cripey!’ he said. ‘By cripey, it’s Rewi’s axe.’ He looked at Rua and drew a deep breath. ‘So he stuck to it, after all,’ he said.

‘Who stuck to what?’ asked Webley. ‘Take a look at that axe, Bert. Have you ever seen it before? Come on.’

Smith cautiously approached Rua, who drew back. ‘You’ll have to let him see it, Rua,’ said Webley. ‘Come on, now.’