rted and the fever-stricken eyes shone with a baleful light. With
an apprehension that he took no pains to disguise Guy watched him
sharply. There was no telling what this savage might do in the delirium
of illness--a delirium aggravated tenfold by the tortures of hunger.

Guy noted with secret uneasiness that no weapon was lying anywhere near.
Melton alone had a revolver, and he was half inclined to waken him and
ask him for it.

Bildad, however, made no attempt to leave his place on the rugs. He kept
on talking to himself at intervals, his eyes staring vacantly out on the
river.

A dingy leopard skin was still bound around his loins, and suddenly
seizing the end of it he began to chew it greedily.

Then he noticed the blood still sticking to his fingers, and placing his
hand in his mouth he sucked it with a hollow noise that made Guy sick.

Suddenly his eyes became fixed and glaring, his hands dropped to his
side, trembling nervously, and his lips parted in a wolfish expression,
that displayed two rows of glistening teeth.

A thrill of horror ran through Guy from head to foot as he saw what had
unmistakably fascinated Bildad's gaze. Two yards distant, facing the
savage, lay Sir Arthur, propped up slightly among the rugs. His head was
thrown back, and in the perspiration, caused probably by his slight
fever, he had torn loose the fore part of his flannel shirt, so that the
throat and part of the breast were fully exposed, and shone clearly in
the soft glow from the fire.

To Chutney Bildad's wolfish gaze admitted of no misconstruction. The
sight of the white flesh had roused the savage's fiercest instincts.
_At that moment Bildad was a cannibal at heart!_

No words can describe Guy's feelings as he realized the awful truth.

At first a deadly faintness threatened to deprive him of all
consciousness. Then came a thrill of strength, and his quick mind sought
some plan of action. There was no weapon within reach. He must waken the
Greek.

"Canaris," he muttered in a low voice, but the word stuck in his throat
and died away in a whisper.

The sound, slight as it was, drew Bildad's attention. A glance at Guy's
frightened countenance told him his horrible design was discovered. His
thick lips parted in a glare of ferocious hatred--the blind fury of a
madman.

He thrust his hand to his side, drew out a long, gleaming knife, and
with a demoniacal laugh sprang at Sir Arthur, brandishing his weapon.

At the first