“Only a shadow. There is a light breeze.”
“I couldn’t see anything but––it didn’t feel like a shadow, David.”
“You felt it? Has the image–––” he asked a bit anxiously.
“No––oh, I can’t make you understand, but I’m sure something moved in the bushes.”
“Stay close to me then,” he laughed quietly.
He turned back to Manning who was turning the image over and over in his hands with indifferent interest. To him it was nothing more than a curio––a metal doll. But when he caught the glint of a moonbeam on the jeweled eyes, he bent over it with keener concern. He raised it in his hands and stared steadily back into the cold eyes. This stare soon became fixed and Manning began to grow slightly rigid. Wilson snatched the object from his hands. For a moment the man remained immovable; then he rubbed his hand over his brow, muttering incoherently to himself. This nervous symptom disappeared and Manning apparently instantly forgot the idol again. He called for his daughter. She came closer to his side and he rested his head against her shoulder.
“Dear father,” she murmured affectionately.
“I––I can’t think,” he said.
“Don’t try, Daddy. Wait until we get out of here and you are all well again.”