rface of the river with
its tail. Then, again, from the forest arose other strange cries,
croakings, whinings, and sounds to which it would have been hard to give
a name, but all suggestive of the black darkness around being full of
danger, and after his experience that day of the forest track, he found
himself thinking of how impossible it would be for any one seeking to
leave the village to escape in that direction.

Then there was the river.

"Yes," he thought; "that would be easier, for it was a broad highway,
swiftly flowing down toward civilisation and safety."

Murray felt a bitter twinge of annoyance at that moment, as he thought
of how he had sacrificed everything to his love for science, and as soon
as he had found it necessary to accept his position, hardly troubled
himself to think of the whereabouts of the boat in which he had arrived,
and of where the men who formed her crew had been placed.

"Hamet will know," he thought as, in a vague way, he began to make
plans, when he was interrupted by Mr Braine's voice uttering the one
word, "Well?"

Murray turned at once and stood close to the other occupants of the
room, drawing his breath hard, and longing to plunge at once into the
conversation, but shrinking from the emotion by which he was half
suffocated.

A silence of some moments succeeded Mr Braine's questioning word, and
the faint murmur of women's voices could be heard from the inner rooms.

"Yes; there is no doubt about it now," said the doctor. "I have always
dreaded this, but lived on in hope."

"And I," said Mr Braine, sadly.

"The base, treacherous--"

"Hush!"

Mr Braine laid his hand upon his old friend's arm, and pointed
downwards to the floor, beneath which lay the open space formed by the
house being raised on posts, while the flooring was so slight that
anything spoken in the room could easily be heard by a listener below.

"There is not likely to be any one there who could understand us," said
the doctor, impatiently. "Man, man, what is to be done?"

There was a few moments' silence, and then Mr Braine said despondently:

"I am at my wits' end. I never felt our helplessness so thoroughly as
at the present moment."

Murray drew a long deep breath, and the veins in his temples seemed to
throb as he stood listening to his companions' words, and waiting to
hear what they intended to do next.

At last he could contain himself no longer.

"We are wasting time, gentlemen," h