e
side remote from that pallid horror which I thought was pursuing me.

I heard a dull thud ... and the thing disappeared from my view, yet--
and remembering the supreme terror of that visitation I am not ashamed
to confess it--I dared not move from the spot upon which I stood, I
dared not make to pass that which lay between me and the door.

"Smith!" I cried, but my voice was little more than a hoarse whisper--
"Smith! Weymouth!"

The words became clearer and louder as I proceeded, so that the last--
"Weymouth!"--was uttered in a sort of falsetto scream.

A door burst open upon the other side of the corridor. A key was
inserted in the lock of the door. Into the dimly lighted arch which
divided the bed-room from the sitting-room, sprang the figure of
Nayland Smith!

"Petrie! Petrie!" he called--and I saw him standing there looking from
left to right.

Then, ere I could reply, he turned, and his gaze fell upon whatever
lay upon the floor at the foot of the bed.

"My God!" he whispered--and sprang into the room.

"Smith! Smith!" I cried, "what is it? what is it?"

He turned in a flash, as Weymouth entered at his heels, saw me, and
fell back a step; then looked again down at the floor.

"God's mercy!" he whispered, "I thought it was you--I thought it was
you!"

Trembling violently, my mind a feverish chaos, I moved to the foot of
the bed and looked down at what lay there.

"Turn up the light!" snapped Smith.

Weymouth reached for the switch, and the room became illuminated
suddenly.

Prone upon the carpet, hands outstretched and nails dug deeply into
the pile of the fabric, lay a dark-haired man having his head twisted
sideways so that the face showed a ghastly pallid profile against the
rich colorings upon which it rested. He wore no coat, but a sort of
dark gray shirt and black trousers. To add to the incongruity of his
attire, his feet were clad in drab-colored shoes, rubber-soled.

I stood, one hand raised to my head, looking down upon him, and
gradually regaining control of myself. Weymouth, perceiving something
of my condition, silently passed his flask to me; and I gladly availed
myself of this.

"How in Heaven's name did he get in?" I whispered.

"How, indeed!" said Weymouth, staring about him with wondering eyes.

Both he and Smith had discarded their disguises; and, a bewildered
trio, we stood looking down upon the man at our feet. Suddenly Smith
dropped to his knees and turned him flat up