Presently the reflection of the moon as it slowly descended to the
horizon, lighted up the den, rendering gradually visible the gleaming,
resplendent, and spotted skin of a panther.

This lion of Egypt lay asleep curled up like a great dog, the peaceful
possessor of a kennel at the door of some sumptuous hotel; its eyes
opened for a moment, then closed again; its face was turned towards the
Frenchman. A thousand confused thoughts passed through the mind of the
tiger's prisoner. Should he, as he at first thought of doing, kill it
with a shot from his carbine? But he saw plainly that there was not room
enough in which to take proper aim; the muzzle would have extended
beyond the animal--the bullet would miss the mark. And what if it were
to wake!--this fear kept him motionless and rigid.

He heard the pulsing of his heart beating in the so dread silence and he
cursed the too violent pulsations which his surging blood brought on,
lest they should awaken from sleep the dreadful creature; that slumber
which gave him time to think and plan over his escape.

Twice did he place his hand upon his scimitar, intending to cut off his
enemy's head; but the difficulty of severing the close haired skin
caused him to renounce this daring attempt. To miss was certain death.
He preferred the chance of a fair fight, and made up his mind to await
the daylight. The dawn did not give him long to wait. It came.

He could now examine the panther at his ease; its muzzle was smeared
with blood.

"It's had a good dinner," he said, without troubling himself to
speculate whether the feast might have been of human flesh or not. "It