"Down there by that strange clump of cycadaceous trees, that clump near those tall trees that look so much like Douglas firs. But 'tis gone now." "What did you see?" "I haven't the faintest idea, Bill. But there certainly was something there, and it was moving. And, if I were imaginative, I would probably say that it was watching us, that, at the moment I arose and pointed, it glided back to the concealment of the trees." "Well, _did_ it?" "It certainly seemed to do so, Bill." I peered down there again, but I could not see anything moving. There was silence for some moments. The Dromans stood watching, waiting; stood expectant, puzzled. "Oh, well," Rhodes said, turning a quizzical look in my direction and then to the face of Drorathusa, "we must expect to find live things in that forest." I saw Drorathusa's eyes fixed upon his face, then, a few moments after he ceased speaking, return to the clump of cycads. "Live things?" said I. "There may be things in this place of mystery more terrible than any live thing." "Come, Bill, come. It can't be so bad as you imagine it, or our Dromans wouldn't be here. "I wish," he added, "I knew what that thing is that I saw." "Hello!" I cried the next moment, my look raised up to the vaulted roof. "What does _that_ mean? Good Heaven, what next?" The light, which was brightest up along the roof--in fact, it seemed _pressed_ up against the rock-canopy like glowing, diaphanous mist--was changing, fading. The wonderful opalescence of it was disappearing before our eyes. Of a sudden the spot where we stood was involved in a gloom indescribably strange. Up above, the light-mist was quivering and flickering, pale and dreadful. "What in the world is it?" I cried. "Queer place, this!" said Milton Rhodes. "What can it mean?" I asked. He did not answer. He sent a questioning look toward Drorathusa and her companions. Mine followed. The faces of the Dromans seemed to glimmer ghostlike in the thickening, awful darkness. Upon those pale features, however, was no discoverable sign of alarm, of uneasiness even. The gloom deepened about us. Pitchy darkness came down with a rush. Far away, and up along the roof, there were pale flickerings and flashes. Then the light burst out, so sudden and so strong that pain shot through the eyes. Came a cry, and I turned to see Drorathusa pointing, pointing down toward those cycads. "There it is, Bill!" exclaimed Milton. "There it is again! See it moving?" I saw it, but it was for a fleeting moment only. And, I thought, I saw something else. "A little nearer this time," Rhodes told me. "There can be no doubt that it is watching us." "Evidently," I said, "it is moving over to lie in wait for us. And, unless I'm very much deceived, it isn't alone." "Hum," said Rhodes. "Queer place, Bill, to go into. Even our Hypogeans, it seems, don't know what to make of that apparition."