Yes, Peter, it's bad. When people you don't like come to visit you you can lock the door, and hide. But you can't hide from a shadow on the floor, the dreadful rustle and flutter of dark wings unfolding. Peter could have refused to believe that the thing was actually standing in the doorway--a tall, fearful, blood-taloned thing as real as the pounding of his heart. He could have fled into a hidden corner of himself, shutting his eyes tight, and knotting up his fists until the clutch of its cold talons brought a horribly agonizing awakening. But when Susan awoke, and saw it too every avenue of escape was blocked to him. Susan didn't scream. Her breath came in a sharp gasp, but her self-control was extraordinary. "Peter," she whispered. "Turn on the lights. The light will scare it away." Peter's heart leapt with sudden hope. But when he tried to move his knees came together, and his muscles tightened up. "I'll do it, Peter," Susan said. He heard her getting to her feet, and panic struck at him again. The light switch was close to the door, and for one awful moment Peter had a sickening vision of Susan being snatched away into the darkness forever, her eyes turned upon him in agonized reproach. Peter half stumbled, half dragged himself to the light switch. He got ahead of Susan and pushed her back, becoming all at once the recognized leader of an indomitable band of desert-roaming men, scornful of ferocious beasts, and with little thought to spare for his own safety. The light came on in a sudden, blinding flare. "I won't let it catch you, Susan!" Peter cried. "If it catches me run for help!" With that, Peter leapt back and stared wildly. The doorway was a square of inky blackness, and there was nothing to be seen beyond it. If lights could kill lights had killed--or convulsed the creature with such instant, overwhelming terror that it had vanished without a sound. It had vanished so completely that it was remarkably easy for Peter to persuade himself that he had acted bravely from the instant of his awakening. Lest censure bear too heavily upon him, it should be remembered that even a lion makes haste to hide itself in the impenetrable depths of the forest when alarmed by an unfamiliar scent, or a shadow not quite to its liking. "Now Mr. Caxton will have to believe me, Susan," Peter said. "Did you see its claws? Two in front and two in back." Susan said nothing. She stood staring into the darkness at Peter's side, and although there was nothing to be seen there was a great deal to be heard. Somewhere in the darkness Mr. Caxton was shouting. That did not surprise Susan. Mr. Caxton had no control at all over his anger. The instant he became annoyed he raised his voice, and when he became really furious his shouts could be deafening.