kly, crawling quicksand that seemed to
writhe and yearn for something that lay between. There could be no
mistake this time, for though the moon behind threw the face into
shadow he could see there the same shaven cheeks as his own, and the
small stubby moustache of a few weeks' growth. The light shone on the
brilliant tartan, and on the eagle's plume. Even the bald space at one
side of the Glengarry cap glistened, as did the cairngorm brooch on
the shoulder and the tops of the silver buttons. As he looked he felt
his feet slightly sinking, for he was still near the edge of the belt
of quicksand, and he stepped back. As he did so the other figure
stepped forward, so that the space between them was preserved.

So the two stood facing each other, as though in some weird
fascination; and in the rushing of the blood through his brain Markam
seemed to hear the words of the prophecy: 'See thyself face to face,
and repent ere the quicksand swallow thee.' He did stand face to face
with himself, he had repented--and now he was sinking in the
quicksand! The warning and prophecy were coming true.

Above him the seagulls screamed, circling round the fringe of the
incoming tide, and the sound being entirely mortal recalled him to
himself. On the instant he stepped back a few quick steps, for as yet
only his feet were merged in the soft sand. As he did so the other
figure stepped forward, and coming within the deadly grip of the
quicksand began to sink. It seemed to Markam that he was looking at
himself going down to his doom, and on the instant the anguish of his
soul found vent in a terrible cry. There was at the same instant a
terrible cry from the other figure, and as Markam threw up his hands
the figure did the same. With horror-struck eyes he saw him sink
deeper into the quicksand; and then, impelled by what power he knew
not, he advanced again towards the sand to meet his fate. But as his
more forward foot began to sink he heard again the cries of the
seagulls which seemed to restore his benumbed faculties. With a mighty
effort he drew his foot out of the sand which seemed to clutch it,
leaving his shoe behind, and then in sheer terror he turned and ran
from the place, never stopping till his breath and strength failed
him, and he sank half swooning on the grassy path through the
sandhills.

* * * * *

Arthur Markam made up his mind not to tell his family of his terrible
adventure--until at