"I don't feel up to the mark. I had a wretched nightmare last night; it kept me awake afterwards until nearly daylight, so that I overslept myself."
"I feel off colour too," replied Brown. "Last night I could have quarrelled with my own shadow. I hope we didn't release any evil spirit from that grave."
"Don't say that," replied Charlie, "for that is just what I dreamt. Strange that you should think the same."
"Tell me about it, sonney," said Brown. "We'll soon fix up any intrusive old ghost."
Charlie, as he could see, was upset by something, and Brown felt uneasy, as the thought of sickness overtaking one of their party became patent to him.
"I dreamt," commenced Charlie, "that I was on the edge of this lake. I was alone, and very frightened with a quite unnatural terror. I thought you had both gone away and left me. I tried to cry out but could not, and turned round, for I felt some fearful thing was approaching me from behind. True enough, the great figure from the cave was there, looking at me with terrible eyes. On its breast was the plate we found in the grave, and—I could read the characters written on it."
Charlie paused.
"What was the writing?" asked Brown, interested by the boy's earnestness.
"I can shut my eyes and see it now. It ran—'The Spirit of Evil is everywhere. Worship then the Spirit of Evil only, and do his behests.' As I looked and read the figure smiled mockingly at me, and I woke up in a cold perspiration, and could not sleep again."
"Charlie, my boy," said Brown, "we will discuss your dream by and by. Meantime, I am going to mix you a dose of quinine and brandy; you've got a touch of malarial fever coming on. Now I'll fix up a bough-shade for you; it will be cooler than the tent, and you must keep quiet all day."