e nothing, only feel, breathlessly,
chokingly. A horrible idea assailed her. Whatever it was, it was
striving to suffocate her--yes, and it was going to succeed, unless she
could muster the strength to cast it off.

Panic seized her. She struggled, possessed by a mad terror; she opened
her mouth to scream, but no sound came, her voice was paralysed like
the rest of her. Up and up crept the weight, it reached her throat,
she felt it graze her chin. Its touch was cold and scaly; she
shuddered at the contact. At the same dreadful moment she realised
what the Thing was. Instantly her vision cleared as if an inky cloud
had rolled away, and she stared with starting eyes into the small, cold
eyes of a python!

The flat head was drawing slowly nearer, the mouth opened, she saw the
darting tongue--the creature was going to bite. Then with a rush her
voice came back; she screamed aloud...

CHAPTER XVI

She heard her own voice, muffled and unnatural. It seemed to work a
sort of magic, for the python vanished, melted away like mist; she drew
a great shuddering breath and found she was lying on her bed, unharmed,
but with the sheet muffled about her throat and the thick eiderdown
quilt resting in a roll across her. Her heart was still pounding,
perspiration streamed from her while she laughed hysterically and
repeated to herself:

"But pythons don't bite! Pythons don't bite!"

No, of course!--how absurd it was!--they crushed you to death. What an
illogical creation of her sub-consciousness! It had been so vivid, the
sensation so acute, the thing had had such solidity! Revelling in her
sense of security, she lay quite still, listening to her breathing as
it slowed down to normal. What had prompted the dream? Was it because
she had been thinking of that snake episode of her childhood? Was it a
python after all? Somehow there seemed more to it than that; the
suspicion haunted her that the dream held some hidden significance.

A sharp tap came at the door.

"Who is it?" she cried, starting up and realising that it was morning.

The door opened a crack and the slightly prim accents of the
night-nurse called through:

"It's after your usual time," she said. "I thought you would like to
know."

Esther sprang out of bed.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry! Something must have gone wrong with my
clock."

It was true. Last night's accident had damaged the alarm. She raced
through her dressing and hurried