nelt cautiously upon one knee, preparatory
to whipping out his electric torch, and even as he did so, heard the
sound of other footsteps stealing round from the _other_ side and coming
toward him with the soft tread of a cat.

Instantly he stopped short--stock-still, as though made out of marble,
and leaned back against the parapet while those sliding, soft, creeping,
cat-like footsteps came steadily on. He became conscious of a black
shape, slim as a woman's, against the midnight sky, that moved with
panther-like precision across the face of the parapet. He could actually
hear that other person's laboured breaths, and as the Thing steadily
approached felt it fan against his cheek.

If Cleek had been in a less precarious position the soul of the man
would have relieved itself by laughing outright. For the situation
seemed almost funny. But this was no time for humour. The moment he
stirred and made himself known, upon that moment the creature--whoever
and whatever it was--would pounce upon him, and dash them both down to
sure death upon the stones below, and in full sight of the
Superintendent's watching eyes. But what to do if he stayed where he
was? Detection was certain in any case. There remained only a moment of
moments before it actually would come. And in that moment, to be
prepared for--what?

The creature came on steadily, picking its way stealthy as a cat across
the rugged stone parapet upon which Rhea stood, until it stopped a few
inches away from him, face averted, one tense hand clinging to the very
stone to which Cleek also clung. Then slowly it turned, knelt upon one
knee, reached down a long hand toward the bar from which the great
bronze bell swung, made as if to find a foot-hold with one slim black
foot, and--Cleek's hand shot out over that other hand, and Cleek's voice
whispered in its ear:

"Damn you! what are you doing here?"

[Illustration: _With a low-pitched exclamation of fury, the man closed
with him and fought like some mad thing_]

Instantly all was pandemonium! For the man--for man it was--sprang round
quickly, showing the lower half of a white face to Cleek's watching
eyes, and then with a low-pitched exclamation of fury closed with him
and fought like some mad thing, spitting out furiously and clawing and
scratching with his free hand to gain hold of the other.

Cleek realized the danger even as he met it, and knew what it ultimately
meant. But the thing had to be done. And in the