something I had seen, when the light from this window attracted me. I
thought possibly someone had broken in."

"Will you tell me what startled you?" Monck said.

She looked at him. "It was a man--an old native beggar. I only saw him
for a moment. I was in Tommy's room, and he came and looked in at me.
You--you must have seen him too. You were talking very excitedly about
him. You threatened to shoot him."

"Was that how you came to deprive me of my revolver?" questioned Monck.

She coloured again vividly. "No, I thought you were going to shoot
yourself. I will give it back to you presently."

"When you consider that I can be safely trusted with it?" he suggested,
with his brief smile. "But tell me some more about this mysterious old
beggar of yours! What was he like?"

She hesitated momentarily. "I only had a very fleeting glimpse of him. I
can't tell you what he was really like. But--he reminded me of someone
I never want to think of or suffer myself to think of again if I can
help it."

"Who?" said Monck.

His voice was quiet, but it held insistence. She felt as if his eyes
pierced her, compelling her reply.

"A horrible old native--a positive nightmare of a man--whom I shall