saw that the
chesterfield in the window bay where Price so often lounged was
tenanted. A gleam of his light tweed suit showed there and across
that.... Oh, I fully expected to see the other thing! Across that there
was an obscure greenish shadow.

"I walked towards it, when suddenly the shadow shot upwards and was lost
to sight. Then the springs of the chesterfield creaked and wheezed, the
same as they will when suddenly released from pressure. Clayton came in
at that moment holding a candelabra aloft and the feeble flames
disclosed poor old Price. He was on his back, his knees slightly drawn
up. The face was not the face of a man at all--it was a horrible mask of
contorted terror. His eyes were opened and fixed; the mouth was twisted
in a gape of fearful wonder.

"'Run, Clayton,' said I; 'a doctor and a policeman!' Clayton placed the
candelabra on the table and bounced out and down the front steps.

"Price was dead without a doubt. He had been strangled, the doctor
thought from the greenish-black marks on his neck and other
circumstances. The savage deed had been accomplished with frightful
ferociousness and strength. Soon the room was in the possession of the
police, and the vicar and I turned out. There was little evidence at
the inquest. The cries of poor Price had been heard by my man, the body
had been found--that was the practical summing-up of the whole matter.
The doctor gave his evidence as to the probability of murder, and the
police evidence tended in the same direction. It was affirmed that (some
would say) he had been baffled by Price in an attempt to rob the house,
had sacrificed the poor fellow to the fury of his checked greed, and had
afterwards escaped by the window. The jury found that Price had died by
the hand of some person unknown.

"'Well, vicar,' I asked afterwards, 'what do you think of the verdict?'

"He told me that from _his_ point of view it seemed to be the most
reasonable one that could be given; and to agree with the laws of
common-sense.

"'Yes,' I replied, 'perhaps you are right from the common-sense point of
view. Nevertheless, I know that Price did not die by any human agency.
It is too ghastly; I can still see that green shadow hovering above his
body on the couch. The huge shadow, the Elemental, the spirit of
Ombos--whatever you like to call it--was there in that room with Price.
It was there in a form that could be seen and felt. It is something more
substantial than an ord