I got up and shook myself; then felt for my revolver. It was not in its usual place. I clapped my hand to my chest and found a painful spot where the dart had struck me. Then I knew it was no dream. Stepping quickly to where Crystal was sleeping, I bent down and touched her on the shoulder.
She raised her head, wide awake on the instant.
“What has happened, Miss Grey?” I asked hurriedly.
“A strange thing,” she replied, standing up and facing me; “yesterday morning——”
“Yesterday morning?” I said in surprise; “then I’ve been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours?”
“Yes, and we have been taking it in turns to watch you. It was my turn, but I must have dropped off—forgive me.”
But I was busy wondering how much of the awful occurrence of the night she knew. I said: “Yes, well; yesterday morning——”
“Ah! just at sunrise father and I were awakened by a pistol shot, and I saw you fall to the ground. We both ran to you and found your revolver still smoking in your hand. But we could not rouse you—you seemed to be fast asleep, at least father said that you were, and that there was nothing whatever the matter with you. While he was feeling you all over I looked to see what you had fired at, and oh! Wanaki, I saw a horrible thing. On the other side of the fire a huge man with his clothes all torn, his hair and beard burnt, and his hideous face upturned, lay on the ground. When father had finished examining you, he searched the body of the horrible thing, said it was dead, and that there was a bullet wound right over the heart.”
“Thank God!” I said, for, as she seemed to know nothing of his terrible throes, I would not shock her mind with them.
“Wanaki!” she said, looking earnestly at me, “why did he come, and why did you kill him?”