Sternly he concentrated the whole of his will
power upon his task. Almost at once there was a change. The Professor fell
back in the chair. The tense self-control had passed from his features,
his lips twitched. Simultaneously, the mirror for a moment was
clouded,--then slowly a picture upon it gathered outline and substance.
There was a jungle, strange, tall trees, and brushwood so thick that it
reached to the waists of the two men who were slowly making their way
through it. One was the Professor, clearly recognisable under his white
sun helmet; the other a stranger to all of them. Suddenly they stopped.
The latter had crept a yard or so ahead, his gun raised to his shoulder,
his eyes fixed upon some possible object of pursuit. There was a sudden
change in the Professor. They saw him seize his gun by the barrel and
whirl it above his head. He seemed suddenly to lose his whole identity. He
crouched on his haunches, almost like an animal, and sprang at the other's
throat. They could almost hear the snarl from his lips as the two men went
down together into the undergrowth. The picture faded away.
"Dr. Merrill!" Lenora faltered. "Then it was not wild beasts which killed
him."
Almost immediately figures again appeared in the mirror. This time they
saw the Professor in bed in a tent, Craig sitting by him, a violin in his
hand. A native servant entered with food, which he placed by the bedside
with a low obeisance. Slowly the Professor raised himself in bed.
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