As we got out into the living room we heard slow, dragging footsteps on the porch outside. We stopped again, shrinking back against the wall. "They--they--it's--" Mercer's whispered words died away. We were both terrified beyond the power of reasoning. The dragging footsteps came closer--a sound that had in it nothing of human tread. Then we heard soft voices--words that were unintelligible. "It's the Mercutians," I found voice to whisper. "They--" A figure appeared in the porch doorway, outlined against the light behind--the figure of a short, squat man. He seemed to have on some sort of white, furry garment. He was bareheaded, with hair falling to his shoulders. At the sight of him my terror suddenly left me. Here was an enemy I could cope with. The dread fear of supernatural beings that had possessed me evaporated. With a shout to Mercer I dashed forward directly at the doorway. I think the Mercutian had not yet seen us; he stood quite still, his body blocking the full width of the doorway. I let fly with my fist as I came up and hit him full in the face. At the same instant my body struck his. He toppled backward and I went through the doorway. I tripped over him on the porch outside and fell sprawling. Before I could rise three other Mercutians fell upon me and pinned me down. Mercer was right behind me in the doorway. I saw him pause an instant to see what was happening. There seemed to be five Mercutians altogether. The one I had hit lay quite still. Three others were holding me. The fifth stood to one side, watching Mercer, but apparently inactive. I saw Mercer hesitate. An expression of surprise came over his face. His body swayed; he took a single step forward, half turned, and then fell in a crumpled heap. CHAPTER VI. MIELA. The girl stood quiet beside the tree, watching Alan as he tied up his boat. She continued smiling. Alan stood up and faced her. He wondered what he should say--whether she could understand him any better than he could her. "You speak English?" he began hesitantly. The girl did not answer at once; she seemed to be trying to divine his meaning. Then she waved her hand--a curious movement, which he took to be a gesture of negation--her broadening smile disclosing teeth that were small, even, and very white. At this closer view Alan could see she was apparently about twenty years old, as time is reckoned on earth. Her body was very slender, gracefully rounded, yet with an appearance of extreme fragility. Her slenderness, and the long, sleek wings behind, made her appear taller than she really was; actually she was about the height of a normal woman of our own race.