I jerked out my revolver; I reached over and gave Rhodes a shake that would have awakened Epimenides himself; then I grabbed the electric light and flashed it upon the descending monster. I could scarcely believe my eyes. Nothing but the empty air. The monster had vanished. "What's the matter?" came the sudden voice of Rhodes. "What in Paradise is going on now?" I rubbed my eyes and stared upward once more. "Look there!" said I, pointing. "Tell me, do you see nothing there?" "There isn't anything there, Bill--_now_." "But there was something there a second or two ago, and it didn't go away." "Ergo it is still there," said Milton. "But, you see, it isn't. What did you see?" "I wish I knew. I thought at first that it was a demon, phosphorescent or something. It was up there. I tell you it was up there. And it was coming down, coming down straight towards this very spot." "Great Caesar's spook!" exclaimed Rhodes. "I can't understand," I told him, "where the thing went. It was there, and the next instant it wasn't. And yet it didn't go away." "Turn off your light," Rhodes said quickly. "Turn it off, Bill." "Great Zeus, what for? You'd better have your revolver ready." "Revolver fiddlesticks! Off with it, Bill; off with the light!" The light went off. And look! There it was again, and almost directly over us. It was not descending now but was hovering, hovering, as though watching, waiting. Waiting for what? And it seemed, too, to thrust out arms or tentacula. And look at that! Something started to drop from it--phosphorescence (I shall call it that) dropping to the floor, where it writhed and crawled about like a mass of serpents. Writhed and crawled and grew dimmer and dimmer, faded, faded. We sat staring at this mysterious, inexplicable phenomenon in amazement, fascination and horror. "What in the world can it be?" I asked, my voice a whisper. "Who," returned Rhodes, "would ever have dreamed of such a thing as that?" "I'm afraid," I told him, a shudder passing through me, "that our revolvers can't hurt a thing like that. It seems to be watching us. Look! Aren't those eyes--eyes staring at us, moving?" "Eyes? Watching us? Eyes moving? Oh, Lord, Bill!" said Rhodes. "Then what is it? It's moving." "Oh, it's moving. But it hasn't any eyes." There was a momentary silence. "As for sending a bullet into it," he added, "don't do anything so foolish." He arose, stepped over and awoke Ondonarkus. The monster was still hovering over the spot. The Droman bestowed upon that ghost but a cursory, careless look, then yawned sleepily. "Yam-yump!" said Ondonarkus, stretching himself. Milton Rhodes laid a hand upon the other's shoulder and pointed an interrogative finger up in the direction of the phantom. The Droman gave a careless, airy toss of the hand. "Drome," said he, then lay down again.