"What?--the sleep-walking?" asked Dean. "Because I'll say plainly that I'm sure the boy wasn't sleep-walking, he was wide awake." "You noticed it?" "Yes, I did--but I can't account for his expression." "His half-dazed look?" "Yes--it was uncanny. I've never seen John look like that before. He seemed almost--" Dean paused as if reluctant to use the word upon his tongue. "Hypnotised?" suggested Price. The other nodded, and they both relapsed into silence. "I don't want to alarm you," said Price quietly, after a long pause, "but this thing makes me half inclined to believe what I would never credit. Now, remember what I am going to tell you is only an old legend. There's hundreds of silly tales you will be told by the natives here, if you encourage them to talk. They spend nights embellishing these yarns in the khans until they believe in their own imaginations. But it is as well you should know, in case to-night's event may be repeated. You noticed the boy went in the direction of the drum? Well, it's said that there are certain souls which can be allured by the _saz_--that's the name of the drum. They cannot always be allured, only when the moon is full can the sound attract the souls of its victims, but when that condition is fulfilled, there is no power, save intervention by a person not under the influence, which can break the spell--it's a silly tale of course, these old khan entertainers always make the flesh creep." "But the victims--you say they are allured--where?" "I don't know, these old legend-spinners never say." "But surely there is some point in this hypnotic influence--why are they drawn by the sound?" "It's a mystery--as I've said, there's no sense in the whole story. What an ass I am to tell you all this. It's late, hadn't we better turn in?" The change in the conversation was clumsy, and it did not deceive Dean. "You're keeping something back, Price--what is it?" Price looked steadily at his interrogator. It was evident that Dean would go to the bottom of the subject. "Oh,--er, there's not much else to be told, only a silly sort of nightmare ending, that's all." "What kind of ending--death?" "Yes." "Violent--dreadful?" "Oh no, in fact, I should think rather sudden, or peaceful, that's how it seemed to me." "Then you've seen it? Tell me all about it, Price." "Really, Dean, you know this sort of thing is very stupid--a coincidence, that's all, and I may have been mistaken." "Perhaps so, but I want to hear." "It happened three years ago, just such a night as this--full moon, those damned drums droning away--when my _kavass_--the fellow who takes me about the villages here, came running in. He was in a fearful state, so excited he could hardly speak. Had I seen Hafiz? he asked,--that was his son. I told him I hadn't. He said he had seen him crossing the bottom garden, going towards the river path." "Towards the drums?"