And, in fact, the Indian repeated aloud in his sleep, a sort of
mysterious dialogue, of which he himself supplied both questions and
answers.

"'Traveller,' said he, in a voice broken by sudden pauses, 'why that
black mark on your forehead, stretching from one temple to the other? It
is a mark of doom and your look is sad as death. Have you been a victim?
Come with us; Kallee will avenge you. You have suffered?'--'Yes, I have
greatly suffered.'--'For a long time?'--'Yes, for a very long
time.'--'You suffer even now?'--'Yes, even now.'--What do you reserve for
those who injure you?'--'My pity.'--'Will you not render blow for
blow?'--'I will return love for hate.'--'Who are you, then, that render
good for evil?'--'I am one who loves, and suffers, and forgives.'"

"Brother, do you hear?" said the negro to Faringhea; "he has not
forgotten the words of the traveller before his death."

"The vision follows him. Listen! he will speak again. How pale he is!"
Still under the influence of his dream, the Indian continued:

"'Traveller, we are three; we are brave; we have your life in our
hands--you have seen us sacrifice to the good work. Be one of us, or
die--die--die! Oh, that look! Not thus--do not look at me thus!'" As he
uttered these last words, the Indian made a sudden movement, as if to
keep off some approaching object, and awoke with a start. Then, passing
his hand over his moist forehead, he looked round him with a bewildered
eye.

"What! again this dream, brother?" said Faringhea. "For a bold hunter of