It was neither.
What then?
A human hand, large and shapely, appeared distinctly on the surface of the pond.

Nothing more, not even the wrist to which it might be attached.

It did not beckon, or indeed move at all; it was as still as the hand of death.
I stood motionless and watched, while the outline of the hand became more clear; then I gave an awful shudder.
_The hand was red._ I gave a shriek, and for a time remembered nothing more.
* * * * * I awoke to consciousness, fighting.

At first it seemed as if I was fighting with a phantom, but gradually my opponent became more real to me.

It was Kaffar.
I had only a dim hazy idea of what I was doing, except that I sought to wrest from his hand a knife.