The air seemed suddenly stifling, his head throbbed and he panted
breathlessly. Then as suddenly the sensation passed and he rolled
over on his back with a deep sigh, his limbs relaxed, too weary to
move. For a long time he lay until the first pale streaks of early
dawn showed above the tree tops, then he sat up with a shiver and
looked around curiously at the silent trees and bamboo clumps that
had witnessed his agony. His head ached intolerably, his mouth was
parched and the cut in his cheek was stiff and sore. He staggered
to his feet and stood a moment holding his head in his hands and
the thought of O Hara San persisted urgently. He shivered again as
the image of the girl's distraught face and pleading eyes rose
before him--in a few hours he would have to go to her and the
thought of the interview sickened him. But he could not go now,
his appearance would terrify her, she might be asleep and he could
not wake her if nature had mercifully obliterated her sorrow for a
few hours. In his mad flight he had lost all sense of distance and
locality, but as the dawn grew stronger he recognised his
surroundings and started to tramp to his own bungalow at the top
of the Bluff. He stumbled through the woods, hurrying wearily to
reach home before the full light. It was still dusk when he
arrived and crossing the verandah went into his bedroom and flung
himself, dressed as he was, on to the bed. And the stealthy
footsteps that had tracked him through the night followed softly
and stopped outside the open doorway. The Jap stood for a few
moments listening intently.




CHAPTER II