avellers' yarns, and only
got up to intimidate new comers. Now that I was satisfied of the truth
of the accounts, I could have wished that an earthquake would swallow
the reptile, so that it but left me secure.

I glanced hastily towards Fred. He was seated on his bed, as startled
and surprised as myself, but I thought that I saw his hand move slowly
towards his revolver, and I prayed that his eyes would not deceive him
when he fired.

Rover had disappeared, but I could hear his loud bay outside of the
building, and I hoped that it would attract attention, and that
assistance would reach us before it was too late.

Still that fearful and muscular tail waved and played in the air, as
though undecided where to strike.

For a moment I removed my eyes from the bright orbs before me, and to my
surprise, I saw a quantity of old canvas, stowed in a corner where we
had left it the day before, begin to move. The snake was apparently
attracted by the same object, and moved its body slightly to get a
better view. I thought, with horror, that perhaps it was the mate of
the reptile, and that Fred and myself would furnish a meal for each.
Still, I watched the canvas and the movements of the snake closely. The
former was gradually and carefully unrolled, and then, to my surprise, I
saw the head of a man thrust cautiously out, as though to discover the
cause of the recent noise, and why a lamp was burning at that hour of
the night.

The snake saw the man's head as quick as myself--at least, I judged that
it did by its motions; for the huge mouth expanded wider than before,
and a long, forked tongue darted back and forth, as though longing for
something to gorge. The tail of the reptile also waved more gently, as
though uncertain where to strike.

To my surprise, the man who was concealed in the canvas appeared to pay
no attention to our hideous visitor, for he pushed aside the cloth that
covered him, and seemed desirous of either investigating the contents of
our money-pouches, or else making his escape from the building.

He was an ugly-looking fellow, as seen by the flickering of our lamp,
and had I been unarmed, I should have cared but little about meeting him
in the dark; under the present circumstances I almost welcomed him as a
friend, and would willingly have given him a few hundred pounds, if,
when he left us, he could carry our shiny visitor along with him.

We watched both the man and the snake with an unflagging att