Anger shook him, and he began to fight, furiously but vaguely. They were closely hemmed in, but when Lambert began to strike out with hands and legs, the beings gave way a little. The scientist tried to shout, and though he could actually hear nothing, the result was gratifying. The formless creatures seemed to scatter and draw back in confusion as he yelled his defiance. "They hate that," Madge said to him. "I have screamed myself hoarse and that is why they have not killed me--if I can be killed." "I do not believe we can. But they can torture us," replied Lambert. "It is an everlasting half-life or quarter-life, and these creatures who call this Hell's Dimension home, have nothing but hatred for us in their consciousness." The inhabitants of the imperfect world had closed in once again and the sharp instruments of torture they used were being thrust into the invisible bodies of the two humans. Each time, Lambert was unable to restrain his cries, for it seemed that he was being torn to pieces by vibrations. He yelled until he could not speak above a whisper, or at least until the impressions of speech he gave forth did not trouble the beings. The two humans, still bound to some extent by their mortal beliefs, were chivvied to and fro, and struck and bullied. The creatures seemed to delight in this sport. The two felt they could not die; yet they could suffer terribly. Would this go on through eternity? Was there no release? * * * * * They were trying to tear Madge away from him. She was fighting them, and Lambert, in a frenzy of rage, made a determined effort to get away with the girl from their tormentors. They retreated before his onslaughts. Drawing Madge after him, Lambert put down his head--or believed he was doing so--and ran as fast as he could at the beings. He bumped into some invisible forms and was slowed in his rush, but he shouted and flailed about with his arms, and tried to kick. Madge helped by screaming and striking out. They made some distance in this way, or so they thought, and the horrid creatures gave way before them. All about them was the coppery sensation of the medium in which they moved: Lambert as he became more used to the form he was inhabiting, he began to think he could discern dreadful eyes which stared unblinkingly at the couple. He fought on, and believed they had come to a spot where the beings did not molest them, though they still sensed the things glaring at them. Were they on some invisible eminence, above the reach of these queer creatures? "We might as well stop here, for if we try to go farther we may come to a worse place," said Lambert. They rested there, in temporary peace, together at last. * * * * *