“In the campong next to yours there are a dozen others,” replied von Horn, “nor would it be easy to say which is the most hideous and repulsive. They are grotesque caricatures of humanity—without soul and almost without brain.” “God!” murmured the girl, burying her face in her hands, “he has gone mad; he has gone mad.” “I truly believe that he is mad,” said von Horn, “nor could you doubt it for a moment were I to tell you the worst.” “The worst!” exclaimed the girl. “What could be worse than that which you already have divulged? Oh, how could you have permitted it?” “There is much worse than I have told you, Virginia. So much worse that I can scarce force my lips to frame the words, but you must be told. I would be more criminally liable than your father were I to keep it from you, for my brain, at least, is not crazed. Virginia, you have in your mind a picture of the hideous thing that carried you off into the jungle?” “Yes,” and as the girl replied a convulsive shudder racked her frame. Von Horn grasped her arm gently as he went on, as though to support and protect her during the shock that he was about to administer. “Virginia,” he said in a very low voice, “it is your father’s intention to wed you to one of his creatures.” The girl broke from him with an angry cry. “It is not true!” she exclaimed. “It is not true. Oh, Dr. von Horn how could you tell me such a cruel and terrible untruth.” “As God is my judge, Virginia,” and the man reverently uncovered as he spoke, “it is the truth. Your father told me it in so many words when I asked his permission to pay court to you myself—you are to marry Number Thirteen when his education is complete.” “I shall die first!” she cried. “Why not accept me instead?” suggested the man. For a moment Virginia looked straight into his eyes as though to read his inmost soul. “Let me have time to consider it, Doctor,” she replied. “I do not know that I care for you in that way at all.” “Think of Number Thirteen,” he suggested. “It should not be difficult to decide.” “I could not marry you simply to escape a worse fate,” replied the girl. “I am not that cowardly—but let me think it over. There can be no immediate danger, I am sure.” “One can never tell,” replied von Horn, “what strange, new vagaries may enter a crazed mind to dictate this moment’s action or the next.” “Where could we wed?” asked Virginia. “The Ithaca would bear us to Singapore, and when we returned you would be under my legal protection and safe.” “I shall think about it from every angle,” she answered sadly, “and now good night, my dear friend,” and with a wan smile she entered her quarters. For the next month Professor Maxon was busy educating Number Thirteen. He found the young man intelligent far beyond his most sanguine hopes, so that the progress made was little short of uncanny.