Certainly _something_ was moving about outside, and feeling over the
stones in an uncertain, searching kind of a way. And when you have been
wakened up from a nightmare in which staring devil-eyes played a
prominent part, _something_ may be anything, and as like as not the
owner of the eyes.
But even devil-fishes in their most advanced stages have not yet
attained the power of human speech. If they speak to one another what a
horrible sound it must be!
It was with a sigh of relief, and a sudden unstringing of the bow, that
he heard outside--
"Mr. Gard!" and with a lusty kick, which expressed some of his feeling,
he sent his doorway flying and crawled out after it.
The myriad winking stars lifted the roof of the world and the darkness
somewhat, sufficient at all events for him to make out that it was not
Nance.
"You, Bernel?" he queried, as the only possible alternative.
"Yes, Mr. Gard. I've brought you some more things to eat."
"Good lad! I'm a great trouble to you. Where is Nance? In the boat?"
"No, she couldn't come. That Julie's watching her like a cat.
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