being--like our princely friend. . . . Naked . . . Flayed! I should say.
I am sorry for him. Impossible--of course. The end of all this shall
be," he went on, looking up at us--"the end of this shall be, that some
day he will run amuck amongst his faithful subjects and send 'ad patres'
ever so many of them before they make up their minds to the disloyalty
of knocking him on the head."

I nodded. I thought it more than probable that such would be the end of
Karain. It was evident that he had been hunted by his thought along the
very limit of human endurance, and very little more pressing was needed
to make him swerve over into the form of madness peculiar to his race.
The respite he had during the old man's life made the return of the
torment unbearable. That much was clear.

He lifted his head suddenly; we had imagined for a moment that he had
been dozing.

"Give me your protection--or your strength!" he cried. "A charm . . . a
weapon!"

Again his chin fell on his breast. We looked at him, then looked at one
another with suspicious awe in our eyes, like men who come unexpectedly
upon the scene of some mysterious disaster. He had given himself up to
us; he had thrust into our hands his errors and his torment, his life
and his peace; and we did not know what to do with that problem from the
outer darkness. We three white men, looking at the Malay, could not find
one word to the purpose amongst us--if indeed there existed a word that
could solve that problem. We pondered, and our hearts sank. We felt as
though we three had been called to the very gate of Infernal Regions to
judge, to decide the fate of a wanderer coming suddenly from a world of