“The future!” the juggler said, and gradually an Indian scene appeared on the smoke. It was a long, straight road, bordered by a jungle. A native was seen approaching; he paused in the foreground.
“That is you, Doctor!” Mr. Hunter exclaimed; “you are got up as a native, but it's you.”
Almost at the same moment two figures came out from the jungle. They were also in native dress.
“You and Miss Hannay,” the Doctor said in a low tone to Bathurst, “dressed like a native and dyed.” But no one else detected the disguise, and the picture again faded away.
“That is enough, Rujub,” Bathurst said, for he felt Isobel lean back heavily against the hand which he held at the back of her chair, and felt sure that she had fainted.
“Draw back the curtains, someone; I fancy this has been too much for Miss Hannay.”
The curtains were thrown back, and Mrs. Hunter, running in, brought out a lamp. The Doctor had already taken his place by Isobel's side.
“Yes, she has fainted,” he said to Bathurst; “carry her in her chair as she is, so that she may be in the room when she comes to.”
This was done.
“Now, gentlemen,” the Doctor said, “you had better light the lamps again out here, and leave the ladies and me to get Miss Hannay round.”