Sleep well, Macumazahn, and do not dream too much of what you heard and saw in Zikali's house." Then before I could speak she turned and left me.
I did _not_ sleep well; I slept very badly.

To begin with, Maurice Anscombe, generally the most cheerful and nonchalant of mortals with a jest for every woe, was in a most depressed condition, and informed me of it several times, while I was getting ready to turn in.

He said he thought the place hateful and felt as if people he could not see were looking at him (I had the same sensation but did not mention the fact to him).

When I told him he was talking stuff, he only replied that he could not help it, and pointed out that it was not his general habit to be downcast in any danger, which was quite true.

Now, he added, he was enjoying much the same sensations as he did when first he saw the Yellow-wood Swamp and got the idea into his head that he would kill some one there, which happened in due course.
"Do you mean that you think you are going to kill somebody else ?" I asked anxiously.
"No," he answered, "I think I am going to be killed, or something like it, probably by that accursed old villain of a witch-doctor, who I don't believe is altogether human." "Others have thought that before now, Anscombe, and to be plain, I don't know that he is.