But is he awake? He lifts his fettered hands and rubs his eyes.
He gazes in terror at someone that is sitting, just as he is, with his back against the wall--and asleep.
The rough dress is all disarranged, and the brown hands are covered with blood. It is an awful vision.
He shuts his eyes a moment, but when he opens them again the man is still there! The terror!
The morning sun is glimmering in and falling directly on the awful sleeping face.
He sits bolt upright now and leans forward.
"Kaloomah!" he cries. "Kaloomah!"
And his own voice seems to belong to some spirit behind those prison walls.
But the terror awakes.
And the eyes of the two men meet.