eavy; he began to
drowse. He dreamt that he had taken Peggy's advice and had gone with
her into the forest, having joined himself to the people of her tribe.
It must have happened years ago, for their child was a sturdy boy who
ran beside them. She was leading the way through a dark wood, holding
him by the hand. He asked her where she was going, and for answer she
laid her finger on his lips and only smiled. On and on they went, and
then, far away in the distance, he began to see a little light. It
grew brighter and more dazzling as they approached, so that he had to
close his eyes. Presently she halted and told him to look. He was
standing on the edge of a precipice, in the side of which steps had
been hewn out, and far below was a silver lake which he knew to be
Parima; and far away was a gleaming of domes and spires which he
recognised. He was about to speak to thank her, when he tottered and
his feet sank from under him. As he fell, he stared up at her; the
last thing he saw was the expression of agony that was in her eyes.

He awoke with a start, but his instinct warned him not to stir. The
shaft of moonlight had been blotted out, and he knew that someone,
standing outside, behind him, was gazing in through the window. It was
not Spurling, for he lay breathing heavily, fast asleep, over to his
right. As he crouched there motionless, he ran through the list of all
possible assailants in his mind. It might be Beorn or Eyelids. It
might be Robert Pilgrim. It might even be the Mounted Police, arrived
before their time. It might be only a renegade trapper of the Hudson
Bay Company, who had come by night, that he might not be discovered,
to see if the private trader would offer a higher price for his catch
of furs. Then the darkness was removed, and the light shone in again.
Quickly turning his head, he looked toward the window, and saw nothing
there. Very quietly he rose to his feet, tiptoed to the window and
looked out. At first he could see no one; then he saw the outer edge
of a figure, pressed close to the wall of the house, standing upright
beside the door-jamb. He crept back from the panes, so that he should
not obscure the little light he had. Moving over to the right, he
halted mid-way between the window and Spurling.

He could hear the muffled breathing of the person outside and could
almost feel the pressure of his body against the wall on the other
side. In the few seconds' respite, while nothing happened,