"Kamanita's spirit?"
I nodded.
"When thou madest thy movement of welcome," he went on, "I feared that thou hadst a lover who visited thee here at nights. If that were so, thou wouldst in no wise help me. And I need thy help as much as thou dost at present need mine."
At these strange words I ventured to look up, and now it seemed to me that I had no spirit before me, but a being of flesh and blood. The moon, however, was behind him, and, dazzled by its beams, as well as confused by my terror, I could only see the outlines of a figure which might well belong to a demon.
"I am not the spirit of Angulimala," he said, guessing my thoughts, "I am Angulimala himself, a living human being as thou art."
I began to tremble violently, not from fear, but because I was standing face to face with the man who had cruelly murdered my beloved.
"Do not be afraid, gracious lady," he went on, "thou hast nought to fear from me; on the contrary, thou art the only person I myself have ever been afraid of, and whom I dared not look in the eyes, as thou didst so truly say, because I was deceiving thee."
"Thou didst deceive me?" I exclaimed, and I scarcely know even now whether joy rose up in my soul, awakened by the hope that my loved one was yet alive, or whether yet greater despair did not seize upon me as I thought that I had allowed myself to be deluded into separating myself from the living.
"I did," he said, "and for that reason we are thrown upon one another. For we both have something to avenge, and on the same man—on Satagira!"
