s, as mere animals. I had felt something of this
before, when that first Thing peered in through my window. Then I had
applied the term superhuman to it, with an almost instinctive knowledge
that the creature was something different from the brute-beast.
Something beyond human; yet in no good sense; but rather as something
foul and hostile to the _great_ and _good_ in humanity. In a word, as
something intelligent, and yet inhuman. The very thought of the
creatures filled me with revulsion.

Now, I bethought me of my sister, and, going to the cupboard, I got
out a flask of brandy, and a wine-glass. Taking these, I went down to
the kitchen, carrying a lighted candle with me. She was not sitting in
the chair, but had fallen out, and was lying upon the floor,
face downward.

Very gently, I turned her over, and raised her head somewhat. Then, I
poured a little of the brandy between her lips. After a while, she
shivered slightly. A little later, she gave several gasps, and opened
her eyes. In a dreamy, unrealizing way, she looked at me. Then her eyes
closed, slowly, and I gave her a little more of the brandy. For, perhaps
a minute longer, she lay silent, breathing quickly. All at once, her
eyes opened again, and it seemed to me, as I looked, that the pupils
were dilated, as though fear had come with returning consciousness.
Then, with a movement so unexpected that I started backward, she sat up.
Noticing that she seemed giddy, I put out my hand to steady her. At
that, she gave a loud scream, and, scrambling to her feet, ran from
the room.

For a moment, I stayed there--kneeling and holding the brandy flask. I
was utterly puzzled and astonished.

Could she be afraid of me? But no! Why should she? I could only
conclude that her nerves were badly shaken, and that she was temporarily
unhinged. Upstairs, I heard a door bang, loudly, and I knew that she had
taken refuge in her room. I put the flask down on the table. My
attention was distracted by a noise in the direction of the back door. I
went toward it, and listened. It appeared to be shaken, as though some
of the creatures struggled with it, silently; but it was far too
strongly constructed and hung to be easily moved.

Out in the gardens rose a continuous sound. It might have been
mistaken, by a casual listener, for the grunting and squealing of a herd
of pigs. But, as I stood there, it came to me that there was sense and
meaning to all those swinish noises. Gradually,