To right and left the cliffs still towered, beetling and immense; but ahead the gorge broke sheer away in a mighty chasm. And, two hundred feet below, its molten bosom heaving, and falling in giant waves, rolled a sea of liquid fire. All else the fugitives forgot; they could do nought but stare, until their eyes could look no longer upon the glaring flood. “Stupendous!” Mervyn gasped, veiling his eyes. “Saw you ever the like before?” The chasm appeared to be about sixty feet in width, but the cliffs prevented them judging of its length. As their eyes became more accustomed to the glare they discovered that from the rocky ground at their feet the span of a stone bridge ran out, its unfinished end hanging about one third the way across the great gulf. The dazzling glow had prevented their perceiving it before. This occasioned them less surprise than might have been the case had they not heard Wilson’s story of the ruined building in the valley; yet, for all that, they stood amazed before this mighty work. Unfinished though it appeared to be, it excited their wonder no less than their admiration. What beings were they who could span this fearful gulf with a structure that would have reflected credit upon the finest engineer in the civilised world? Not the wolf-men, of a certainty! Creatures of their brutish intellect could never have planned and carried out so stupendous an enterprise; and if not they, then what other beings dwelt in this wild and ghostly land? “Look!” cried Seymour suddenly, “it is a drawbridge! The centre span is drawn up.” It was true! The bridge was not imperfect, as they had supposed. From the further side of the gorge a second span ran out, and above the end of this the centre span towered, secured by chains. “It’s what you might call real picturesque,” drawled Silas, “but I guess it’s fixed us proper. We’re trapped like rats. Say, Mervyn, you’d better take this knife,” and he handed his sheath-knife to the unarmed scientist. As he did so, from close at hand arose the hunting cry of the wolf-men. “Keep well within the shelter of the rocks there,” said Seymour to Mervyn and the engineer, then moved a few paces into the gorge. Haverly took his place beside him, and together they awaited the coming of the foe. Four minutes passed--minutes so full of suspense that each seemed like an hour--and then the foremost of the pursuers dashed round the curve. He paused as he noted the grim figures, standing motionless as statues in the shadow of the cliffs. Before ever he could retreat, a shot from Seymour’s weapon stretched him dead upon his back, his piercing death-cry ringing shrilly in the ears of his fellows as they rushed into view. With a fiendish clamour of yells they swept down upon the fugitives, their spears raised threateningly. “Fire!” the baronet cried, and at that the rattle of the magazine rifles broke out, the cliffs flinging back the echoes in a deafening uproar.