Once, in its passage towards me, the snake pushed the chair that impeded its progress an inch or two from its former position, scraping it along the varnished boards, causing a sharp discordant sound. Instantly the python drew back its awful head, assuming a swan-like attitude. The quivering tongue, as sensitive as a butterfly’s feelers, played and trembled, and its jewelled eyes narrowed and flashed. The creature’s whole position was one of threatening defence. How deadly it looked, how awful in its cruel beauty! “Heaven send me help!” I inwardly prayed. “Oh, for some means of escape!” Closer and closer the awful creature undulated directly towards me, pausing now and again as if to prolong my agony of suspense. In reality I believe it was listening, its sensitive ear--or if, as some scientists hold, snakes are deaf, then some subtle sixth sense unknown to us--detecting sounds my dull brain could not catch. At length it was so close to me I could have stretched out my hand, had I wished, and touched it, and a coil of its body actually lay on my skirt as the creature rested at my side, evidently enjoying the mournful music, which I verily believed to be my funeral dirge. For the end, I thought, must come soon. With this deadly creature so close to me, and in such a position that I could not but disturb it if I moved, I was getting cold and numb with fear. I felt myself getting faint, and realized that I was going to fall. Desperately I fought against the feeling, struggling against my growing weakness. How long the serpent lay, like a watch-dog, at my feet, how long I played I do not know. I could not measure time; I was in a trance, asphyxiated with fear. Suddenly a noise seemed to snap something in my brain, and the spell was broken. It was a sharp bark from Nellie, just outside the window. And, coming nearer through the bush, I heard the echo of my music whistled back to me, as Malcolm, all unconscious of my peril, took up the refrain with which I was endeavouring to soothe my dread visitant to rest and peace. And now that help was at hand, a new danger and difficulty confronted me. How was I to warn Malcolm? How was I to drag my skirt away from under this monster quickly enough to escape through the open doorway before it struck me? Long ere I was aware of the approach of help the serpent had shown signs of irritation, its intuitive sensibility detecting the advent of danger, and at the noise of the key grinding in the rusty lock the python gathered its sinuous body under it, as if to obtain greater support for a forward stroke. Then, with its head and a portion of its body reared high above the floor and darting angrily hither and thither, it waited expectantly.