out from the
mind's eye harrowing reflections.

When he looked again they had drawn apart and were conversing
earnestly. Korak could see the man urging something. It was equally
evident that the girl was holding back. There were many of her
gestures, and the way in which she tossed her head up and to the right,
tip-tilting her chin, that reminded Korak still more strongly of
Meriem. And then the conversation was over and the man took the girl
in his arms again to kiss her good-bye. She turned and rode toward the
point from which she had come. The man sat on his horse watching her.
At the edge of the jungle she turned to wave him a final farewell.

"Tonight!" she cried, throwing back her head as she called the words to
him across the little distance which separated them--throwing back her
head and revealing her face for the first time to the eyes of The
Killer in the tree above. Korak started as though pierced through the
heart with an arrow. He trembled and shook like a leaf. He closed his
eyes, pressing his palms across them, and then he opened them again and
looked but the girl was gone--only the waving foliage of the jungle's
rim marked where she had disappeared. It was impossible! It could not
be true! And yet, with his own eyes he had seen his Meriem--older a
little, with figure more rounded by nearer maturity, and subtly changed
in other ways; more beautiful than ever, yet still his little Meriem.
Yes, he had seen the dead alive again; he had seen his Meriem in the
flesh. She lived! She had not died! He had seen her--he had seen his
Meriem--IN THE ARMS OF ANOTHER MAN! And that man sat below him now,
within easy reach. Korak, The Killer, fondled his heavy spear. He
played with the grass rope dangling from his gee-string. He stroked
the hunting knife at his hip. And the man beneath him called to his
drowsy guide, bent the rein to his pony's neck and moved off toward the
north. Still sat Korak, The Killer, alone among the trees. Now his
hands hung idly at his sides. His weapons and what he had intended
were forgotten for the moment. Korak was thinking. He had noted that
subtle change in Meriem. When last he had seen her she had been his
little, half-naked Mangani--wild, savage, and uncouth. She had not
seemed uncouth to him then; but now, in the change that had come over
her, he knew that such she had been; yet no more uncouth than he, and
he was still uncouth.

In her had taken place t