were suddenly dispelled and the sun shown forth in all its glory.
Turning my face upward, I, at the same instant, caught sight of a shadow upon the platform above.
It was but a glimpse—then it was drawn back and had vanished.
But that glimpse showed me a man bending over the balustrade.
Instantly I knew him.
It was my mysterious friend at Panompin-the man with the parti-colored face!
CHAPTER III.
MORE MYSTERY.
“Maurice!” I cried, grasping my friend’s arm. “Maurice, did you see?”
“See—what? I saw a man leaning over the balustrade up there. Some visitor at the ruins like ourselves.”
“Maurice!” I exclaimed in a hurried whisper, “it was that man.”
“What man?”
“My ‘levitating’ friend, as you call him.”
“No, George! Never!”
But it was though. Didn’t you see his face? It was uncovered—half yellow, half black.”
“The sun must have been in my eyes or yours. I saw nothing of the sort; but to tell the truth I didn’t see his face plainly. Just as I caught a glimpse of it, presto, it was gone.”
Strange sensations seized me. I trembled, though I knew not why.
“If it is actually your Panompin friend, George, by all means let us go up and interview him,” said Maurice lightly. “His song, though a trifle high flown, was not so bad. Do you know I like that idea of sun worship. God is omnipotent, omnipresent, but invisible. He made the earth, but the sun was his master mechanic. By all means let us be sun worshipers, old fellow, but for heaven’s sake,
