The idea was by no means a pleasant one, yet better the wolf-man for an enemy than some strange beast. Prepared for an attack at any moment, Seymour moved forward again, his momentary fear giving place to a revengeful passion against the brute who had caused his present predicament. For perhaps a score of yards he advanced, at length coming in touch with a wall, along which he felt his way to a low archway. This, after some little hesitation, he entered, having to bend somewhat to escape catching his head against the roof. The floor was slimy with ooze, and there was a constant drip of water from above, but, disdaining these minor difficulties, Seymour held on. With his arms outstretched to their full extent, he could just touch the walls of the passage, and in this fashion he managed to steer himself. As nearly as he could judge, the tunnel was about two hundred yards in length, giving at last upon a chamber, which appeared to be one of considerable size. Across this he was proceeding when a bright light flickered into view right ahead. It was too distant to illuminate much of the chamber in which he was, but, taking it as his guide, he increased his pace and moved swiftly towards it. As he went on he observed that it proceeded from a low-roofed tunnel similar to the one from which he had just emerged. Stooping, he was about to enter the passage, when, with a snarl of rage, the form of the wolf-man rose before him. The next instant he and the loathsome savage were locked in a death-grip. CHAPTER XXVII. IN THE VAULTS. A MOMENT they swayed and wrestled; then Seymour broke away from the grip of his enemy, and leapt backward. Snarling savagely, the wolf-man crouched, and leapt for the baronet’s throat. But the latter was prepared. Quick as thought his fist shot out, and before the sledgehammer stroke the savage crashed backward with a scream. Ere he could rise Seymour was upon him, all the pent-up hatred in his nature finding vent as he choked out the life of the hideous creature. In vain the savage struggled beneath that iron grip. The Englishman, for the moment, was absolutely merciless, every better feeling sunk in one of murderous revenge. A grim satisfaction took possession of him as he watched the fear of death grow in the savage’s bulging eyes, a satisfaction complete only when the creature’s movements ceased, when, with a last convulsive shudder, he lay still and silent for ever. Leaving the body where it lay, Seymour rose and entered the tunnel, whence the light still streamed. Along this he advanced for perhaps fifty yards, the light growing brighter with every step he took; then he emerged into another large chamber, to stand for a moment startled at the scene which met his eye.