collapsed against
him, her face hidden on his breast. And Hone, stooping impulsively,
caught her up in his arms.

"We'll get out of it somehow," he said. "Never fear!"

But even his eyes had widened with a certain horror, for the blot in the
moonlight was beyond question moving, elongating, quivering, subtly
changing under his gaze.

He held his companion pressed tightly to his heart. She made no further
attempt to urge him. Only by the tense clinging of her arms about his
neck did he know that she was conscious.

Again he heard that vague rustling which he had set down to a sudden
draught overhead. It seemed to come from all directions.

"Ye gods!" he muttered softly to himself. And again, more softly, "Ye
gods!"

To the woman in his arms he uttered no word whatever. He only pressed
the slender figure ever closer, while the blood surged and sang
tumultuously in his veins. Though he stood in the midst of mortal
danger, he was conscious of an exultation so mad as to be almost
delirious. She was his--his--his!

Something stirred in the undergrowth close to him, and in a moment his
attention was diverted from the slow-moving monster ahead of him. He
became aware of a dark object, but vaguely discernible, that swayed to
and fro about three feet from the ground seeming to menace him.

The moment he saw this thing, his brain flashed into sudden
illumination. The shrewdness of the hunted creature entered into him.
Without panic, he became most vividly, most intensely alive to the
ghastly danger that threatened him. He stopped to ascertain nothing
further. Swift as a lightning flash he acted--leapt backwards, leapt
sideways, landed upon something that squirmed and thrashed hideously,
nearly overthrowing him; and the next moment was breaking madly through
the undergrowth, regardless of direction, running blindly through the
jungle, fighting furiously every obstacle--forcing by sheer giant
strength a way for himself and for the woman he carried through the
opposing tangle of vegetation.

Branches slapped him in the face as he went, clutched at him, tore him,
but could not stay his progress. Many times he stumbled, many times he
recovered himself, dashing wildly on and still on like a man possessed.
A marvellous strength was his. Titan-like, he accomplished that which to
any ordinary man would have been an utter impossibility. Save that he
was in perfect condition, even he must have failed. But that fact was
his salvat