Frank was already sound asleep. And while Clifton stood at the window, drawing comparisons between the meanness of the hut in which he found himself, and the magnificence of the mountain scenery around it, he heard—in that small, shell-like cabin—he could not help hearing—what follows. First a heave and plunge, as if the old man below stairs had started violently from his bed and fallen again, and then a fearful, shuddering voice exclaimed, “Kate! Kate! they’re coming again! They’re after me, Kate! They’re on me! They’re on me! Save me, Kate! Save me, Kate! Save—” “Grandfather—dear grandfather,” said the soothing voice of the girl, “there is no one here but me—there, there, be quiet—be still; nothing shall hurt you here—nothing can you know.” “Look! Look, Kate! Look! They’re not men now but devils!” A violent plunge, struggles, exclamations of terror and despair which the low, soothing tones and gestures of the poor girl vainly assayed to tranquillize for some time, and then—silence for a few minutes—which was again interrupted by—“Snakes! snakes, Kate! Snakes! _Green_ snakes! See! see how they dart! They fly! They’re on me! They’re on me! Help! Help!” And the sound of the maniac laying about him furiously. Captain Clifton started up with the intention of going to the poor girl’s assistance—but by the time he reached the head of the ladder, the voice of the child had again calmed the infuriated man. All was quiet for a quarter of an hour, and then another violent start and throw that seemed to shake the little hut, and a horrible shriek of—“A dragon! A dragon. Kate! A green dragon belching flame!” Then a succession of violent shrieks and struggles, which aroused Frank, who springing up in bed, exclaimed— “What the deuce is the matter? Has the Major got another fit of _mania-a-potu_ on him?” Then, as all again was quiet, he rubbed his eyes and said, laughing, “I do believe I have been talking in my sleep! I dreamed we were in our mess, and the Major was drunk again.” “A part of your dream was real. The old man below stairs has a fit of _mania-a-potu_ upon him.” “What! and you staying here! I must go down and help the girl.” “You had better not as yet. She seems to have the power of soothing him. Your presence might, by exasperating him, do more harm than good.” At this moment another outbreak of fury from the madman caused Frank to spring to his feet, and, exclaiming— “I can’t let that maniac tear my dear little hostess to pieces—” rush to the head of the ladder. “I tell you you had best not _intrude_—his mania seems perfectly harmless to the child.” But Frank was at the foot of the ladder, where, however, an impediment met him. The girl, who had just succeeded in again soothing the madman, came and stood before him, saying, “Pray do not come in, sir, just yet.” “But, my good girl, I must come in and remain to protect you,” gently trying to pass her. She stood her ground firmly; her _lips_ said—