which opened out into quite a cellar about a yard from
the surface. The air within felt somewhat chill and damp, as I put my
head cautiously down the narrow opening; but there seemed no cause for
fear, and I crept nimbly forward, feeling my way as I advanced along
the rude mud walls. I could hear Burns behind me on his hands and
knees, puffing slightly as he squeezed through the small aperture that
led into the larger chamber.

I had advanced perhaps two yards without reaching the end of this odd
underground apartment, when suddenly, and directly in my front, there
sounded a deep, hollow, unearthly groan. The sound was so terrifying
that I stopped with chilled blood and beating heart, gripping my
knife-hilt and peering forward into the dark as frightened as ever I
was in my life. I heard Burns gasp and half turn; then, before I could
move, even had I dared venture such a thing, an instantaneous flash lit
up the black interior. I caught one confused glimpse of a huge object,
topped with a head of tumbled hair, of two flapping wings stretching
out upon either side, and then the impenetrable curtain of the dark hid
everything once more. Sweat bathed me in cold drops; nor could I have
moved a limb to save my life. Behind me Burns was muttering what might
have been a prayer; when the thing groaned again, a hollow, awful moan,
thrilling with agony, that sent me grovelling upon my face as nearly
dead as one could well be and yet breathe and know.

CHAPTER XVI

"FRANCE WINS, MONSIEUR!"

For the moment, every muscle of my body seemed paralyzed. I distinctly
heard the creature moving in my direction, and I backed away violently,
actuated only by the thought of instant escape into the open air. But
Burns blocked the solitary passage.

"Back out of here, for God's sake!" I managed to exclaim through
parched lips. "That devil-thing is coming this way!"

He struggled desperately in the darkness, tugging madly at some
obstacle, an oath smothered on his lips. I waited and listened, every
nerve on edge.

"Dern it all, but I can't!" he groaned at last. "My blame of gun hes
got wedged, and won't give an inch."

Then a half-smothered laugh rippled out of the gloom just in front of
me.

"Heaven protect me, but it's Wayland!" came a voice, and the laughter
broke into a roar of merriment.

"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! This will be the death of me!"

The voice, choked and muffled as it was, sounded strangely hollow in