"The transparent creatures!" whispered Miss Barrison. "Look! See that pie move!" I sprang to my feet just as the professor, jamming on his spectacles, leaned forward and slammed the cage door. "I've got one!" he shouted, frantically. "There's one in the cage! Turn on that hose!" "Wait a second," said Miss Barrison, calmly, uncorking the bottle and pouring a pearly stream of rosium oxide into the tank. "Quick! It's fizzing! Screw on the top!" In a second I had screwed the top fast, seized the hose, and directed a hissing cloud of vapor through the cage bars. For a moment nothing was heard save the whistling rush of the perfumed spray escaping; a delicious odor of roses filled the air. Then, slowly, there in the sunshine, a misty something grew in the cage--a glistening, pearl-tinted phantom, imperceptibly taking shape in space--vague at first as a shred of lake vapor, then lengthening, rounding into flowing form, clearer, clearer. "The Sphyx!" gasped the professor. "In the name of Heaven, play that hose!" As he spoke the treacherous hose burst. A showery pillar of rose-colored vapor enveloped everything. Through the thickening fog for one brief instant a human form appeared like magic--a woman's form, flawless, exquisite as a statue, pure as marble. Then the swimming vapor buried it, cage, pies, and all. We ran frantically around, the cage in the obscurity, appealing for instructions and feeling for the bars. Once the professor's muffled voice was heard demanding the wearing apparel, and I groped about and found it and stuffed it through the bars of the cage. "Do you need help?" I shouted. There was no response. Staring around through the thickening vapor of rosium rolling in clouds from the overturned tank, I heard Miss Barrison's voice calling: "I can't move! A transparent lady is holding me!" Blindly I rushed about, arms outstretched, and the next moment struck the door of the cage so hard that the impact almost knocked me senseless. Clutching it to steady myself, it suddenly flew open. A rush of partly visible creatures passed me like a burst of pink flames, and in the midst, borne swiftly away on the crest of the outrush, the professor passed like a bolt shot from a catapult; and his last cry came wafted back to me from the forest as I swayed there, drunk with the stupefying perfume: "Don't worry! I'm all right!" I staggered out into the clearer air towards a figure seen dimly through swirling vapor. "Are you hurt?" I stammered, clasping Miss Barrison in my arms. "No--oh no," she said, wringing her hands. "But the professor! I saw him! I could not scream; I could not move! _They_ had him!" "I saw him too," I groaned. "There was not one trace of terror on his face. He was actually smiling." Overcome at the sublime courage of the man, we wept in each other's arms. * * * * *