"You appear to know me; but, I am sorry to say, the advantage is all on your side. Where have we met before?" The other's set face relaxed. A ghastly, mirthless laugh proceeded from a scarcely opened mouth. There was that in it which made the listener start, such an echo was it of the mocking laugh thrown back at him out of the darkness when challenging that shadowy figure at their former camp. "Where have we not met?" came the reply, after a pause. "That would be an easier question to answer." "Well, at any rate, it is awfully good of you to have taken care of me like this," said John Ames, thinking it advisable to waive the question of identity for the present. "Did I fall far?" "So far that, but for a timely tree breaking your fall, you would hardly have an unbroken bone within you now." "But how did I get here? Did you get me here alone?" "A moment ago you were deciding that curiosity might sometimes be out of place. You are quick at changing your mind, John Ames." The latter felt guilty. This was indeed "thought-reading" with a vengeance. "Yes; but pardon me if it seems to you inquisitive--it is not meant that way," he said. "The fact is, I am not alone. I have a friend who will be terribly anxious--in fact, terribly frightened at my absence. I suppose you are in hiding, like ourselves?" Again that mirthless laugh. "In hiding? Yes; in hiding. But not like yourselves." "But will you not join us? I know my way about this sort of country fairly well, and it is only a question of a little extra care, and we are bound to come through all right." "Such `little extra care' as you displayed only yesterday, John Ames? Yet an evening or so back you thought my presence hardly likely to prove an acquisition." The cold, sneering tone scarcely tended to allay the confusion felt by the other at this reminder. This, then, was the apparition seen by Nidia, and he had been able to draw near enough to overhear their conversation with reference to his appearance. The thought was sufficiently uncomfortable. Who could the man be? That he was an eccentricity was self-evident. He went on-- "You were right in saying that your `friend' would be terribly frightened. She has gone through such a night as she hopes never to spend again, and her fears are not over, but this time they are very material, and are for herself. There are shapes stealing upon her down the rocks--dark shapes. Natives? No. Human? No. What then? Beasts. She screams; tries to drive them off. They grow bolder and bolder-- and--" "Heavens alive, man, don't drive me mad!" roared John Ames, whirling up from his couch, forgetful alike of aching bones and bruised and shaken frame. "What, is it you see--or know? Are you the devil himself?"