y he stepped back a
pace and looked down at her, a feeling of helpless incredulity rising
within him. For he still could not focus directly upon the shining
whiteness of her, and nothing save those moonstone eyes were clear to
him.

The girl sprang to her feet and rose on tiptoe, gripping his shoulders
with urgent hands. Again the blind intensity of her eyes took hold of
his, with a force almost as tangible as the clutch of her hands; again
that stream of intelligence poured into his brain, strongly, pleadingly.

"Please, please take me back! I'm so frightened--I can't find my
way--oh, please!"

He blinked down at her, his dazed mind gradually realizing the basic
facts of what was happening. Obviously her milky, unseeing eyes held a
magnetic power that carried her thoughts to him without the need of a
common speech. And they were the eyes of a powerful mind, the outlets
from which a stream of fierce energy poured into his brain. Yet the
words they conveyed were the words of a terrified and helpless girl. A
strong sense of wariness was rising in him as he considered the
incongruity of speech and power, both of which were beating upon him
more urgently with every breath. The mind of a forceful and
strong-willed woman, carrying the sobs of a frightened girl. There was
no sincerity in it.

"Please, please!" cried her impatience in his brain. "Help me! Guide me
back!"

"Back where?" he heard his own voice asking.

"The Tree!" wailed that queer speech in his brain, while gibberish was
all his ears heard and the moonstone stare transfixed him strongly. "The
Tree of Life! Oh, take me back to the shadow of the Tree!"

A vision of the grille-ornamented well leaped into his memory. It was
the only tree symbol he could think of just then. But what possible
connection could there be between the well and the lost girl--if she was
lost? Another wail in that unknown tongue, another anguished shake of
his shoulders, brought a sudden resolution into his groping mind. There
could be no harm in leading her back to the well, to whose grille she
must surely be referring. And strong curiosity was growing in his mind.
Much more than met the eye was concealed in this queer incident. And a
wild guess had flashed through his mind that perhaps she might have come
from some subterranean world into which the well descended. It would
explain her luminous pallor, if not her blurriness; and, too, her eyes
did not seem to function in the light.