ed a capital "R," followed by an "i"; but these letters
ran into a long smear, impossible to decipher.

I had flung myself prone on the grass, and so lay, with chin propped
on both palms, staring at the thing as if it had been some strange
beetle--staring till my eyes ached. But now I took it in my fingers
again and prised the edges a little wider. Below the smear came a
blank space, and below this were five lines ruled in ink with a
number of dotted marks between them. . . . A smudged stave of music?
Yes, certainly it was music. I could distinguish the mark of the
treble clef. Lastly, at the foot of the page, as I unwrapped it at
length, came a blurred illegible signature.

But what mattered the sense of it? The writing was here, and recent.
No one on board the _Espriella_ could have penned it. The island,
then, was inhabited--now, at this moment inhabited, and the
inhabitants, whoever they might be, at this moment not far from me.

I crushed the paper into my pocket, and stood up, slowly looking
about me. For a second or two panic had me by the hair. I turned to
run, but the dense woods through which I had ascended so
light-heartedly had suddenly become a jungle of God knows what
terrors. I remembered that from the first cascade upward I had
scarcely once had a view of more than a dozen yards ahead, so thickly
the bushes closed in upon me. I saw myself retracing my steps
through those bushes, in every one of which now lurked a pair of
watching eyes. I glanced up at the cliff across the stream.
For aught I knew, eyes were watching me from its summit.

Needless to say, I cursed the hour of my transgression, the fatal
impulse that had prompted me to break ship. I knew myself for a
fool; but how might I win back to repentance? As repent I certainly
would and acknowledge my fault. Could I keep hold on my nerve to
thread my way back and over those five separate and accursed
waterfalls? If only I were given a clear space to run!

At this point in the nexus of my fears it occurred to me, glancing
along the green lawn ahead, that the ridge on its left must run
almost parallel with the creek; that it was sparsely wooded in
comparison with the ravine behind me, and that from the summit of it
I might even look straight down upon the _Espriella's_ anchorage.
Be this as it might, I felt sure, considering the lie of the land,
that here must be a short cut back to the creek; and once beside its
waters I could hea