She stood before me. Her trembling hand still held down the gun. Her breast was fluttering to her quick breathing. Her violet eyes, wide, glistening with tears, held my face. The live, pulsating beauty of her slim body stung my own eyes with tears. Every soft line of it was infinitely precious. My resolution found new steel. "Why shouldn't I?" I rasped the hoarse demand. "You know what I am! You know why we can't marry! And that the sooner I die the less likely I am to revert to--to something hideous!" "I know what Doctor Kyle says." Her eyes probed to the back of my brain. "And you believe it, Clay?" "I--I do. I tried not to. But my whole life points to the truth of it--even to the rage that struck down Jud Geer! "You must go away, Valyne," I said. I pushed her toward the door. "You must let me kill that fiend in me before it injures you." Her body stood tremulously firm against the pressure of my hands. "You don't understand, Clay," she told me, and a ringing strength was in her voice. "Even if it's true, I can't let you die--alone! For I love you, Clay." I returned the gun to its holster, and caught her hands in mine. For I had been touched and elated by the sudden conviction that our love was a pure flame that could burn all the tainting horror from my blood. Her warm hands clasped mine, and she whispered: "Clay, promise me that you will live as long as I do! Promise me that you will never again surrender to that horror! Just promise. And we will go away from Creston, in the morning, as we planned. Perhaps we can find a way to happiness. At least we can be together for a while--and together when we die!" I promised. I thought we might consult some psychiatrist or occultist.... * * * * * The glory of her love seemed for a little time to banish the sinister chill of evil from the room. I begged her to stay with me; for the dread that still haunted me was stronger than my regard for convention. And perhaps she would have stayed; for she too was strained and white with unuttered forebodings. But there was a light, hurried knocking on the door, and old Sarah Kyle hobbled into the room. Her dark, pointed face was bloodless. Her small, bright eyes darted about the room, and a thin, anxious whisper lisped from her toothless mouth: "Have ye seen it, Clay? Have ye heard it?" "You mean----" I wet my lips. "You mean the thing in the cellar?" Her glittering eyes met mine, veiled with unspeakable dread. "Your brother," shrilled her tremulous whisper, "has broken his chains and gone." I swayed, and caught Valyne to me, as if an icy dark wind had sought to drag her away. The cracked whisper insisted: "Have ye heard it?" "Half an hour ago I heard the chain rattling, and the sound of breaking wood." The thin lips came together, like strips of dried leather. "That must have been when it escaped. God knows where it went!" Valyne whispered, into the fearful silence: