ure of
that giant of a man with his great beard and long hair, as his eyes had
caught him in a sea of electrical fire, was indelibly burned into his
brain. It was a tragic picture.

Again he put out the light and bared the blanketed window, but he saw
nothing but the sodden gleam of the earth when the lightning flashed. A
second time he opened the door a few inches and sat down with his back
to the wall, listening.

How long it was before drowsiness stole upon him he did not know, but
it came, and for a few moments at a time, as his eyes closed, it robbed
him of his caution. And then, for a space, he slept. A sound brought
him suddenly into wide wakefulness. His first impression was that the
sound had been a cry. For a moment or two, as his senses adjusted
themselves, he was not sure. Then swiftly the thing grew upon him.

He rose to his feet and widened the crack of his door. A bar of light
shot across the upper hall. It was from Marette's room. He had taken
off his boots to deaden the sound of his feet, and he stepped outside
his door. He was positive he heard a low cry, a choking, sobbing cry,
only barely audible, and that it came from down the stair.

No longer hesitating, he moved quickly to Marette's room and looked in.
His first glimpse was of the bed. It had not been used. The room was
empty.

Something cold and chilling gripped at his heart, and an impulse which
he no longer made an effort to resist pulled him to the head of the
stair. It was more than an impulse--it was a demand. Step by step he
went down, his hand on the butt of his Colt.

He reached the lower hall, which was still lighted, and a step or two
brought him to a view of the door that opened into the big living-room
beyond. That door was partly open, and the room itself was filled with
light. Soundlessly Kent approached. He looked in.

What he saw first brought him relief together with shock. At one end of
the long desk table over which hung a great brass lamp stood Marette.
She was in profile to him. He could not see her face. Her hair fell
loose about her, glowing like a rich, sable cape in the light of the
lamp. She was safe, alive, and yet the attitude of her as she looked
down was the thing that gave him shock. He was compelled to move a few
inches more before he could see what she was staring at. And then his
heart stopped dead still.

Huddled down in his chair, with his head flung back so that the
terrible ghastliness of his face