These are some of the things that flashed through my mind--yes, even then. I never before knew what a rapid thing thought can be. Oh, those things that shot through my brain in those brief, critical seconds. My whole life, from childhood to that very moment, flashed before me like the film of a cinematograph, though with the speed of light. I wondered what death was like--what it would be like somewhere in the depths of that black gulf. And I wondered why the angel did not loose her hold on that leash. I didn't know that she had wrapped the chain around her hand and that the chain had in some way got caught. The poor angel could not free herself. Little wonder, forsooth, that she was screaming so wildly at the demon. "We must risk it!" I cried. "Hold!" The next instant Milton Rhodes had stepped aside--yes, had stepped right to the very edge of the rock. The demon whirled at him, and, as it whirled, one of its great wings struck me full across the face. I gave myself up for lost, but somehow I kept my place on that ribbon of rock. Another instant, and the monster would be at Milton's throat. But no! From this dizzy position which he had so suddenly taken, the angel was no longer behind the demon, and on the instant Rhodes fired. Oh, that scream which the monster gave. It struck the rock, and that Rhodes managed to keep his footing on the edge of that fearful place is one of the most amazing things that I have ever seen. But keep it he did, and he fired again and yet again. The demon flapped backward, jerked the angel to her knees and near the edge and then suddenly flat on her face. The next instant the monster disappeared. Its wings began to beat against the rock with a spasmodic sound. I gave a cry of relief and joy. But the next moment one of dismay and horror broke from me. The monster was dragging the angel over the edge! Chapter 21 INTO THE CHASM Milton Rhodes threw himself prone on the rock and his right arm around the angel's waist. "Quick, Bill, quick! Her arm--the whole weight of the monster!" Her screams had ceased, but from her throat broke a moan, long, tremulous, heartrending--a sound to shake and rend my already quivering nerves, to most dreadfully enhance the indescribable horror of the scene and the moment. I could do nothing where I was, had to step over the prostrate forms, which, in my heated imagination, were being dragged over the edge. The wings of the demon were still beating against the rock, the blows not so strong but more spasmodic--the sound a leathery, sickening tattoo. It will probably be remembered that the angel had held the demon with her right hand. I was now on the angel's right; and, stretched out on the rock, I reached down over the edge in an effort to free her from that dragging monster, the black depths over which we hung turning me dizzy and faint.