grim tragedy acted there--how, at last, blinded with his blood, maimed,
stupefied by agony, he had been hounded down the slope by a yelling,
laughing horde of torturers.

There was not much to be done, and presently Guy Oscard moved away
to his camp-chair, where he sat staring into the night. Sleep was
impossible. Strong, hardened, weather-beaten man that he was, his nerves
were all a-tingle, his flesh creeping and jumping with horror. Gradually
he collected his faculties enough to begin to think about the future.
What was he to do with this man? He could not take him to Loango. He
could not risk that Jocelyn or even Maurice Gordon should look upon this
horror.

Joseph had crept back into the inner room, where he had no light, and
could be heard breathing hard, wide awake in his hammock.

Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud cry:

"Oscard! Oscard!"

In a moment Joseph and Oscard were at the bedside.

Durnovo was sitting up, and he grabbed at Oscard's arm.

"For God's sake!" he cried. "For God's sake, man, don't let me go to
sleep!"

"What do you mean?" asked Oscard. They both thought that he had gone
mad. Sleep had nothing more to do with Durnovo's eyes--protruding,
staring, terrible to look at.

"Don't let me go to sleep," he repeated. "Don't! Don't!"

"All right," said Oscard soothingly; "all right. We'll look after you."

He fell back on the bed. In the flickering light his eyeballs gleamed.

Then quite suddenly he rose to a sitting position again with a wild
effort.

"I've got it! I've got it!" he cried.

"Got what?"

"The sleeping sickness!"

The two listeners knew of this strange disease. Oscard had seen a whole
village devastated by it, the habitants lying about their own doors,
stricken down by a deadly sleep from which they never woke. It is known
on the West Coast of Africa, and the cure for it is unknown.

"Hold me!" cried Durnovo. "Don't let me sleep!"

His head fell forward even as he spoke, and the staring wide-open eyes
that could not sleep made a horror of him.

Oscard took him by the arms, and held him in a sitting position.
Durnovo's fingers were clutching at his sleeve.

"Shake me! God! shake me!"

Then Oscard took him in his strong arms, and set him on his feet. He
shook him gently at first, but as the dread somnolence crept on he shook
harder, until the mutilated inhuman head rolled upon the shoulders.

"It's a sin to let that man live," exclaimed Joseph, turning awa