There　was　no　time　to　be　lost。　　Like　a　startled　antelope　she
  turned　and　fled　up　the　trail　in　the　direction　Anderssen
  had　indicated。
  From　far　behind　came　the　sudden　shouting　of　men；　the　sound　of　shots；
  and　then　silence。　　She　knew　that　Anderssen　had　met　the　Russian。
  A　half…hour　later　she　stumbled；　exhausted；　into　a　little
  thatched　village。　　Instantly　she　was　surrounded　by　men；
  women；　and　children。　　Eager；　curious；　excited　natives　plied
  her　with　a　hundred　questions；　no　one　of　which　she　could
  understand　or　answer。
  All　that　she　could　do　was　to　point　tearfully　at　the　baby；
  now　wailing　piteously　in　her　arms；　and　repeat　over　and　over；
  〃Feverfeverfever。〃
  The　blacks　did　not　understand　her　words；　but　they　saw　the
  cause　of　her　trouble；　and　soon　a　young　woman　had　pulled
  her　into　a　hut　and　with　several　others　was　doing　her　poor
  best　to　quiet　the　child　and　allay　its　agony。
  The　witch　doctor　came　and　built　a　little　fire　before　the
  infant；　upon　which　he　boiled　some　strange　concoction　in　a
  small　earthen　pot；　making　weird　passes　above　it　and　mumbling
  strange；　monotonous　chants。　　Presently　he　dipped　a　zebra's
  tail　into　the　brew；　and　with　further　mutterings　and　incantations
  sprinkled　a　few　drops　of　the　liquid　over　the　baby's　face。
  After　he　had　gone　the　women　sat　about　and　moaned　and
  wailed　until　Jane　thought　that　she　should　go　mad；　but；
  knowing　that　they　were　doing　it　all　out　of　the　kindness
  of　their　hearts；　she　endured　the　frightful　waking　nightmare
  of　those　awful　hours　in　dumb　and　patient　suffering。
  It　must　have　been　well　toward　midnight　that　she　became
  conscious　of　a　sudden　commotion　in　the　village。　　She　heard
  the　voices　of　the　natives　raised　in　controversy；　but　she　could
  not　understand　the　words。
  Presently　she　heard　footsteps　approaching　the　hut　in　which
  she　squatted　before　a　bright　fire　with　the　baby　on　her　lap。
  The　little　thing　lay　very　still　now；　its　lids；　half…raised；
  showed　the　pupils　horribly　upturned。
  Jane　Clayton　looked　into　the　little　face　with　fear…haunted　eyes。
  It　was　not　her　babynot　her　flesh　and　bloodbut　how　close；
  how　dear　the　tiny；　helpless　thing　had　become　to　her。
  Her　heart；　bereft　of　its　own；　had　gone　out　to　this　poor；
  little；　nameless　waif；　and　lavished　upon　it　all　the　love
  that　had　been　denied　her　during　the　long；　bitter　weeks
  of　her　captivity　aboard　the　Kincaid。
  She　saw　that　the　end　was　near；　and　though　she　was　terrified
  at　contemplation　of　her　loss；　still　she　hoped　that　it　would
  come　quickly　now　and　end　the　sufferings　of　the　little　victim。
  The　footsteps　she　had　heard　without　the　hut　now　halted
  before　the　door。　　There　was　a　whispered　colloquy；　and　a
  moment　later　M'ganwazam；　chief　of　the　tribe；　entered。　　She　had
  seen　but　little　of　him；　as　the　women　had　taken　her　in　hand
  almost　as　soon　as　she　had　entered　the　village。
  M'ganwazam；　she　now　saw；　was　an　evil…appearing　savage
  with　every　mark　of　brutal　degeneracy　writ　large　upon　his
  bestial　countenance。　　To　Jane　Clayton　he　looked　more　gorilla
  than　human。　　He　tried　to　converse　with　her；　but　without　success；
  and　finally　he　called　to　some　one　without。
  In　answer　to　his　summons　another　Negro　entereda　man
  of　very　different　appearance　from　M'ganwazamso　different；
  in　fact；　that　Jane　Clayton　immediately　decided　that　he　was
  of　another　tribe。　　This　man　acted　as　interpreter；　and　almost
  from　the　first　question　that　M'ganwazam　put　to　her；　Jane　felt
  an　intuitive　conviction　that　the　savage　was　attempting　to
  draw　information　from　her　for　some　ulterior　motive。
  She　thought　it　strange　that　the　fellow　should　so　suddenly
  have　become　interested　in　her　plans；　and　especially　in　her
  intended　destination　when　her　journey　had　been　interrupted
  at　his　village。
  Seeing　no　reason　for　withholding　the　information；　she　told
  him　the　truth；　but　when　he　asked　if　she　expected　to　meet　her
  husband　at　the　end　of　the　trip；　she　shook　her　head　negatively。
  Then　he　told　her　the　purpose　of　his　visit；　talking　through
  the　interpreter。
  〃I　have　just　learned；〃　he　said；　〃from　some　men　who　live
  by　the　side　of　the　great　water；　that　your　husband　followed
  you　up　the　Ugambi　for　several　marches；　when　he　was　at　last
  set　upon　by　natives　and　killed。　　Therefore　I　have　told　you　this
  that　you　might　not　waste　your　time　in　a　long　journey　if　you
  expected　to　meet　your　husband　at　the　end　of　it；　but　instead
  could　turn　and　retrace　your　steps　to　the　coast。〃
  Jane　thanked　M'ganwazam　for　his　kindness；　though　her　heart
  was　numb　with　suffering　at　this　new　blow。　　She　who　had
  suffered　so　much　was　at　last　beyond　reach　of　the　keenest
  of　misery's　pangs；　for　her　senses　were　numbed　and　calloused。
  With　bowed　head　she　sat　staring　with　unseeing　eyes　upon
  the　face　of　the　baby　in　her　lap。　　M'ganwazam　had　left　the　hut。
  Sometime　later　she　heard　a　noise　at　the　entranceanother
  had　entered。　　One　of　the　women　sitting　opposite　her　threw　a
  faggot　upon　the　dying　embers　of　the　fire　between　them。
  With　a　sudden　flare　it　burst　into　renewed　flame；　lighting
  up　the　hut's　interior　as　though　by　magic。
  The　flame　disclosed　to　Jane　Clayton's　horrified　gaze　that　the　baby
  was　quite　dead。　　How　long　it　had　been　so　she　could　not　guess。
  A　choking　lump　rose　to　her　throat；　her　head　drooped　in
  silent　misery　upon　the　little　bundle　that　she　had　caught
  suddenly　to　her　breast。
  For　a　moment　the　silence　of　the　hut　was　unbroken。
  Then　the　native　woman　broke　into　a　hideous　wail。
  A　man　coughed　close　before　Jane　Clayton　and　spoke　her　name。
  With　a　start　she　raised　her　eyes　to　look　into　the　sardonic
  countenance　of　Nikolas　Rokoff。
  Chapter　13
  Escape
  For　a　moment　Rokoff　stood　sneering　down　upon　Jane　Clayton；
  then　his　eyes　fell　to　the　little　bundle　in　her　lap。　　Jane　had
  drawn　one　corner　of　the　blanket　over　the　child's　face；　so　that
  to　one　who　did　not　know　the　truth　it　seemed　but　to　be　sleeping。
  〃You　have　gone　to　a　great　deal　of　unnecessary　trouble；〃　said　Rokoff；
  〃to　bring　the　child　to　this　village。　　If　you　had　attended　to　your
  own　affairs　I　should　have　brought　it　here　myself。
  〃You　would　have　been　spared　the　dangers　and　fatigue　of　the　journey。
  But　I　suppose　I　must　thank　you　for　relieving　me　of　the　inconvenience
  of　having　to　care　for　a　young　infant　on　the　march。
  〃This　is　the　village　to　which　the　child　was　destined　from
  the　first。　　M'ganwazam　will　rear　him　carefully；　making　a　good
  cannibal　of　him；　and　if　you　ever　chance　to　return　to　civilization
  it　will　doubtless　afford　you　much　food　for　thought　as　you　compare
  the　luxuries　and　comforts　of　your　life　with　the　details　of　the　life
  your　son　is　living　in　the　village　of　the　Waganwazam。
  〃Again　I　thank　you　for　bringing　him　here　for　me；　and　now　I　must　ask　you
  to　surrender　him　to　me；　that　I　may　turn　him　over　to　his　foster　parents。〃
  As　he　concluded　Rokoff　held　out　his　hands　for　the　child；　a　nasty　grin　of
  vindictiveness　upon　his　lips。
  To　his　surprise　Jane　Clayton　rose　and；　without　a　word　of　protest；
  laid　the　little　bundle　in　his　arms。
  〃Here　is　the　child；〃　she　said。　　〃Thank　God　he　is　beyond
  your　power　to　harm。〃
  Grasping　the　import　of　her　words；　Rokoff　snatched　the　blanket
  from　the　child's　face　to　seek　confirmation　of　his　fears。
  Jane　Clayton　watched　his　expression　closely。
  She　had　been　puzzled　for　days　for　an　answer　to　the　question
  of　Rokoff's　knowledge　of　the　child's　identity。　　If　she　had
  been　in　doubt　before　the　last　shred　of　that　doubt　was　wiped
  away　as　she　witnessed　the　terrible　anger　of　the　Russian　as　he
  looked　upon　the　dead　face　of　the　baby　and　realized　that　at
  the　last　moment　his　dearest　wish　for　vengeance　had　been
  thwarted　by　a　higher　power。
  Almost　throwing　the　body　of　the　child　back　into　Jane　Clayton's　arms；
  Rokoff　stamped　up　and　down　the　hut；　pounding　the　air　with　his
  clenched　fists　and　cursing　terribly。　　At　last　he　halted　in　front
  of　the　young　woman；　bringing　his　face　down　close　to　hers。
  〃You　are　laughing　at　me；〃　he　shrieked。　　〃You　think　that
  you　have　beaten　meeh？　　I'll　show　you；　as　I　have　shown　the
  miserable　ape　you　call　‘husband；'　what　it　means　to　interfere
  with　the　plans　of　Nikolas　Rokoff。
  〃You　have　robbed　me　of　the　child。　　I　cannot　make　him　the
  son　of　a　cannibal　chief；　but〃and　he　paused　as　though　to
  let　the　full　meaning　of　his　threat　sink　deep〃I　can　make　the
  mother　the　wife　of　a　cannibal；　and　that　I　shall　doafter　I
  have　finished　with　her　myself。〃
  If　he　had　thought　to　wring　from　Jane　Clayton　any
  sign　of　terror　he　failed　miserably。　　She　was　beyond　that。
  Her　brain　and　nerves　were　numb　to　suffering　and　shock。
  To　his　surprise　a　faint；　almost　happy　smile　touched　her　lips。
  She　was　thinking　with　thankful　heart　that　this　poor　little
  corpse　was　not　that　of　her　own　wee　Jack；　and　thatbest　of　all
  Rokoff　evidently　did　not　know　the　truth。
  She　would　have　liked　to　have　flaunted　the　fact　in　his　face；
  but　she　dared　not。　　If　he　continued　t