"Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?"
He looked around as if in doubt. His eyes had a vacant look about them, and yet there seemed a certain amount of intelligence displayed—at any rate, it seemed so to me.
"I see lots of people, all dim like," said Simon, slowly; "but I can't tell no faces. They all seem to be covered wi' a kind o' mist."
"Look again," said the professor. "You can see more clearly now."
Simon peered again and again, and then said, "Yes, I can see him; but he looks all strange. He's a-shaved off his whiskers, and hev got a sort o' red cap, like a baisin, on his head."
My heart gave a great bound. Kaffar was not dead. Thank God for that!
"Where is he?"
"I am tryin' to see, but I can't. Everything is misty. There's a black fog a-comin' up."
"Wait a few minutes," said the professor, "and then we'll try him again."
Presently he spoke again. "Now," he said, "what do you see?"