The luminous fog drifted slowly off the table, and wavered and flickered across the room. There in the farther and darkest corner it gathered and glowed, hardening down into a shining core—a strange, shifty, luminous, and yet non-illuminating patch of radiance, bright itself, but throwing no rays into the darkness. It had changed from a greenish-yellow to a dusky sullen red. Then round this centre there coiled a dark, smoky substance, thickening, hardening, growing denser and blacker. And then the light went out, smothered in that which had grown round it. “It has gone.” “Hush—there’s something in the room.” We heard it in the corner where the light had been, something which breathed deeply and fidgeted in the darkness. “What is it? Le Duc, what have you done?” “It is all right. No harm will come.” The Frenchman’s voice was treble with agitation. “Good heavens, Moir, there’s a large animal in the room. Here it is, close by my chair! Go away! Go away!” It was Harvey Deacon’s voice, and then came the sound of a blow upon some hard object. And then ... And then ... how can I tell you what happened then? Some huge thing hurtled against us in the darkness, rearing, stamping, smashing, springing, snorting. The table was splintered. We were scattered in every direction. It clattered and scrambled amongst us, rushing with horrible energy from one corner of the room to another. We were all screaming with fear, grovelling upon our hands and knees to get away from it. Something trod upon my left hand, and I felt the bones splinter under the weight. “A light! A light!” someone yelled. “Moir, you have matches, matches!” “No, I have none. Deacon, where are the matches? For God’s sake, the matches!” “I can’t find them. Here, you Frenchman, stop it!” “It is beyond me. Oh, _mon Dieu_, I cannot stop it. The door! Where is the door?” My hand, by good luck, lit upon the handle as I groped about in the darkness. The hard-breathing, snorting, rushing creature tore past me and butted with a fearful crash against the oaken partition. The instant that it had passed I turned the handle, and next moment we were all outside and the door shut behind us. From within came a horrible crashing and rending and stamping. “What is it? In Heaven’s name, what is it?” “A horse. I saw it when the door opened. But Mrs. Delamere——?” “We must fetch her out. Come on, Markham; the longer we wait the less we shall like it.” He flung open the door and we rushed in. She was there on the ground amidst the splinters of her chair. We seized her and dragged her swiftly out, and as we gained the door I looked over my shoulder into the darkness. There were two strange eyes glowing at us, a rattle of hoofs, and I had just time to slam the door when there came a crash upon it which split it from top to bottom. “It’s coming through! It’s coming!” “Run, run for your lives!” cried the Frenchman.