-was it human?

It had vanished--silently, imperceptibly; had vanished as suddenly as it
had appeared, but in that brief moment she had taken in every detail.
The figure was that of a European, clad in brown, weather-beaten
garments, tall, and wearing a long white beard. But the face. She had
seen it for that moment, turned towards the setting sun, the light full
upon it--full in the eyes--and never before had she beheld so awful an
expression of fiendish hate stamped upon the human countenance. Was it
human? The face was that of a devil! Nidia felt her flesh creep, and
her hair rise, as she called to mind its expression, and all sorts of
weird ideas, begotten of solitude amid vastness, circled through her
brain. Was this frowning wilderness truly a demon-haunted spot, or had
she seen the spectre of one of her murdered countrymen, who could not
rest in his blood-stained grave? But that it could be a human figure
she felt it impossible to believe.

Then another idea struck her. Was it indeed human--one who had escaped,
like themselves, only to discover, or perhaps to witness the slaughter
of those dear to him, whose brain had been turned thereby, and who, in a
state of maniacal fury, was wandering at large? This solution, however,
was hardly more palatable than the first. Had it seen her? She thought
not; for she had remained perfectly still, true to an oft repeated
injunction of her companion's, as to the fatal attraction exercised
towards oneself by any sudden movement, however slight. The sun had
sunk altogether now, and already the very brief twilight was descending
upon the surrounding waste. Would he never return? Nidia's heart was
well-nigh bursting with mingled terror and anxiety. Then it leapt for
joy. A low whistle, a bar or two of a favourite song, a home-coming
signal agreed upon between them, was borne to her ears. She could have
laughed aloud in her delight. She composed both her face and manner to
hide from him her terrors, for she had been careful never to let him
suspect the half of what she went through during these protracted
absences. Then his figure appeared striding out from the darkness.

"I've been in luck to-day, Miss Commerell!" he exclaimed gaily, flinging
down a brace of full grown guinea-fowl, "Got them both at one throw,
too."

Nidia did not for a moment reply. She was looking up at him with a very
soft and entrancing flush upon her face, and a light in her wide-opened