"If it must be so, it must," said the captain, after a moment's hesitation; and taking his gourd, he applied it to the lips of the guide.
The latter drank eagerly and copiously; a feverish flush coloured his hollow cheeks, his almost extinguished eyes flashed and gleamed with an unnatural fire.
"Now," he said, in a firm and pretty loud voice, "do not interrupt me: when you see me become weak, let me drink again. I, perhaps, shall have time to tell you all."
The captain made a sign of assent, and the Babbler began.
His recital was rendered long by the repeated weakness with which he was seized; when it was terminated, he added,—
"You see, that this woman is, as I have told you, a demon; she has killed both Kennedy and me. Renounce the capture of her, captain; she is game you cannot bring down; you will never get possession of her."
"Hum!" said the captain, knitting his brows; "do you imagine that I give up my projects in that fashion?"
"I wish you luck, then," the guide murmured; "as for me, my business is done—my account is settled. Adieu, captain!" he added, with a strange sort of smile, "I am going to all the devils—we shall meet again yonder."
And he sank back.
The captain endeavoured to raise him again; but he was dead.