"Can't say, Bill. The greenish fire, however, is nothing but reflected light; in other words, light has to reach them, or the eyes can't shine. In absolute darkness they would not do so." "It may be different down here in this world. At any rate, that eye shone, though ghostly. And so the angel at least--and Heaven only knows what besides--is waiting there with her demon!" "I believe so, Bill. There can scarcely be any doubt that the eye which you saw belonged to a demon. The prospect, I admit, is certainly a sinister one." A silence ensued. Of a sudden Rhodes raised his voice and hallooed: "Hello there!" The answer came almost on the instant: "Hello there--hello there--hello there--hello there--hello--hello!" "Nobody there but Echo, lovely Echo," smiled Milton Rhodes. Again he raised his voice, and again the words were thrown back at him. "Hear that, Bill?" he cried whilst the echoes were still sounding. "I heard it." "_That_ was no echo." "No," I said; "that was not an echo." We waited, listening intently, but that sound which had come with the echoes was not heard again. Rhodes drew his revolver and examined the weapon most carefully. He looked at me curiously, and then he said: "I have no desire, Bill, to disguise the fact that this crossing may prove a most, a most--Bill, it may prove to be the--" "You needn't tell me," said I. "I know very well what it may mean." "But we can't turn back, Bill." "No; we can't turn back." He reached out his hand and grasped mine. And then, without another word, we started. I had known some critical, terrible, horrible scenes in my life; but never anything like the suspense and mystery of those moments that now succeeded. What were we to see? What were we to meet? And, horror of horrors, it would be in that place where the bridge narrowed to something like a mere ribbon--the frightful depths yawning on each side, almost at our very feet. Well, at last we reached it. My head began to swim, so terrible was the place, and I had to stop and get a grip on my nerves. Rhodes too paused, and for some moments we stood there, so near to safety and yet--the mockery of it--closer than ever to mystery and danger and perhaps horror unnamable. "Now for it, Bill!" said Rhodes. "Keep your revolver ready for instant action!" And we started the ascent across. The place immediately before us was so narrow that we could not think of walking side by side. Rhodes was leading. And then it came--when we had taken eight or ten steps, when we had reached the most dangerous spot on that ribbon of rock.