would have been a pity to have had to go on to the house where Miss
Gore and the servants would hear and see. He crawled on his hands and
knees, approaching slowly and with some pains. He still heard no
sound, but at last reached a ridge of rock within a few feet of the
spring and heard voices, lowered, guilty voices they seemed to him. He
peered cautiously over. They were there, side by side on the rocky
ledge.

Jerry told me that at this moment he seemed suddenly to grow strangely
calm. The noises in his head had ceased and he felt a curious sense of
quiet exaltation. He couldn't explain this. I think it was a purely
mental reaction after many months of spiritual coma. He got to his
feet and even before they heard the sounds of his footsteps he stood
before them.

They must have been very much alarmed at Jerry's appearance for, after
dashing hotfoot through the underbrush and crawling among the rocks,
his clothing must have been disarranged and his hair dirty and
disordered. The expression of his face, too, in spite of his boasted
calm, could hardly have been pleasant to contemplate, for I had had a
glimpse of it that morning in the motor and I am sure that for an hour
or more he had been mad--quite mad. He said that they sprang apart
suddenly and that Lloyd rose with a swaggering air and faced him. But
it seemed that the current of Jerry's thought was diverted by Marcia,
who had started up and then sank back upon the rock, addressing him in
her softest tones.

"Why, Jerry!" she cried. "How you startled me!"

It was the first time, Jerry said, that the caressing tones of the
girl's voice had made no impression upon him. In two strides he was
alongside of her, within arm's reach of both of them. He looked
dangerous, I think, for Lloyd edged off a little. Marcia kept her gaze
fixed upon his face and what she read there was hardly reassuring.

"Jerry!" she cried again. "What does this mean? Your clothes are torn;
your face scratched. Has--has something happened to you?"

The question was unfortunate, for it loosened Jerry's thick tongue.

"Yes. Something's happened," he muttered, moving a hand across his
brows as though to clear his thoughts. And then:

"I've waked up, that's all," he growled.

"Waked! I don't understand," her voice still gentle, appealing,
incredulous.

"Yes, awake. You're false as hell."

"Oh," she started back at that and the venturesome Lloyd took a pace
forward.

"I say, Benham, I--"