roamed about aimlessly for a moment, then became still. He said with
effort--

"I came here . . . I leaped out of my stockade as after a defeat. I ran
in the night. The water was black. I left him calling on the edge of
black water. . . . I left him standing alone on the beach. I swam . . .
he called out after me . . . I swam . . ."

He trembled from head to foot, sitting very upright and gazing straight
before him. Left whom? Who called? We did not know. We could not
understand. I said at all hazards--

"Be firm."

The sound of my voice seemed to steady him into a sudden rigidity, but
otherwise he took no notice. He seemed to listen, to expect something
for a moment, then went on--

"He cannot come here--therefore I sought you. You men with white faces
who despise the invisible voices. He cannot abide your unbelief and your
strength."

He was silent for a while, then exclaimed softly--

"Oh! the strength of unbelievers!"

"There's no one here but you--and we three," said Hollis, quietly. He
reclined with his head supported on elbow and did not budge.

"I know," said Karain. "He has never followed me here. Was not the wise