cysted, covered by a skin of gelatin. As yet I have no knowledge of these microbes, save that they devour anything they come to, with the exception of glass and metal. When these pellets are shot from the guns, they break upon impact and the microbes emerge, multiplying so rapidly as to look like a puddle of gray water spreading out on all sides. I have seen an entire tribe of savages wiped out by this horror. Acid is the only thing that will kill it. I think that there is only one other man that I know of who has had experience with these microbes; that is Dr. Maxwell, who terms it the 'gray death'.
"You can easily see that I had plenty of reason to be frightened when I got off the train in London, only to discover that I had been trailed all the way from Africa by one of the pigmy priests, who stood not far behind me on the platform. On the verge of panic, I dashed through the crowd, hoping to elude him, and at last I boarded the first train that came to hand—the train on which you were setting out for Liverpool. When I saw you on the train—you, who knew that I was arriving from the Veldt that day—and when I saw that you had already seen me, I had only one course to take: that was to make up something to throw you off the track. I wasn't going to fill you full of silly fears until I was positively sure of my pursuit—though, God knows, I was sure, only I hated to admit it to myself. Then I told you on the spur of the moment that I was playing some silly prank upon my servants. I knew the tale was totally awry, and almost laughed at the expression on your face, but it was the best I could do at the time.
"I left the train when I was finally sure that I had not been followed, and hired a car to drive me all the way to my home here» on the Plain. I saw nothing of the pigmy priest for over four years after.
"Then one day last October, while wandering about on the moor, I noticed someone in the ruined chapel. You've seen the chapel, haven't you? I thought you had. At any rate, I thought nothing of the matter at the moment, thinking perhaps that some children had wandered out here—which is not so unusual as it sounds, but when I went closer to look into it, I found on the ground near the ruined structure an amulet of beaten gold. For a moment I was stunned. But I knew whom I had so fortunately spied, and I fled as fast as I could go to the confines of my home."
He stopped and pointed all around him with his stick to the black hangings and to his own black robe.
"I've seen those pigmies strike an object with their accursed pellets when it was securely out of sight—they judged its position exactly by the angle at which its shadow was thrown."
As I said, I didn't quite know how to take this story. At first I was all for the theory that he had made a mistake about being followed, but he would have none of it, and actually became angry when I persisted. Then he showed me the diamond that he had risked his life for, and to do it justice I must say that I thought it well worth such a risk. He had kept the jewel hidden in a secret safe behind his bookcases.
Never for once did Michael Salisbury cease his vigilance; he dressed always in black, and maintained a constant watch. On one occasion he confided to me that there was nothing he feared so much as the dreaded Lama sorcery, a form of animal magnetism practised by African tribes, and with which he was familiar. He never ventured to explain this magnetism to me; consequently I am totally in the dark concerning it.
For five days nothing happened to break the monotony of life out on the Plain; on the sixth day, Decem-
