The man seemed to have tripped upon a root, an unusual thing for these sure-footed sons of the forest, and Paul drew back from him.

But the savage recovered himself, and in a low voice said: "Paul!" Paul Cotter started violently.

It was the first word in good English that he had heard in a time that seemed to be eternity--save those of Braxton Wyatt, whom he hated--and the effect upon him was overpowering.

It was like a voice of hope coming suddenly from another world.
"Paul," continued the voice, now warningly, "don't speak.

Go on to your hut.