d beast, and cast fearful eyes behind him. Then he
rushed into the dark corners, stabbing with his knife, crying that the
devils were loosed. I remember how horribly he frothed at the mouth.

"Avaunt," he howled. "Avaunt, Mel and Abaddon! Avaunt, Evil-Merodach
and Baal-Jezer! Ha! There I had ye, ye muckle goat. The stink of hell
is on ye, but ye shall not take the elect of the Lord."

He crawled on his belly, stabbing his knife into the ground. I easily
avoided him, for his eyes saw nothing but his terrible phantoms. Verily
Shalah had spoken truth when he said that this man had bodily converse
with the devils.

Then I threw him--quite easily, for his limbs were going limp in the
extremity of his horror. He lay gasping and foaming, his eyes turning
back in his head, while I bound his arms to his sides with my belt. I
found some cords in the tent, and tied his legs together. He moaned
miserably for a little, and then was silent.

* * * * *

I think I must have sat by him for three hours. The world was very
still, and the moon set, and the only light was the flickering lamp.
Once or twice I heard a rustle by the tent door. Some Indian guard was
on the watch, but I knew that no Indian dared to cross the forbidden
circle.

I had no thoughts, being oppressed with a great stupor of weariness. I
may have dozed a little, but the pain of my legs kept me from
slumbering.

Once or twice I looked at him, and I noticed that the madness had gone
out of his face, and that he was sleeping peacefully. I wiped the froth
from his lips, and his forehead was cool to my touch.

By and by, as I held the lamp close, I observed that his eyes were
open. It was now time for the gamble I had resolved on. I remembered
that morning in the Tolbooth, and how the madness had passed, leaving
him a simple soul. I unstrapped the belt, and cut the cords about his
legs.

"Do you feel better now, Mr. Gib?" I asked, as if it were the most
ordinary question in the world.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Was it a dwam?" he inquired. "I get
them whiles."

"It was a dwam, but I think it has passed."

He still rubbed his eyes, and peered about him, like a big collie dog
that has lost its master.

"Who is it that speirs?" he said. "I ken the voice, but I havena heard
it this long time."

"One who is well acquaint with Borrowstoneness and the links of Forth,"
said I.

I spoke in the accent of his own country-side, a