st, so straight ahead, with such staring, staring eyes? And
what was that scratching, scraping, grating sound which it brought with
it?

The Persian and Raoul could retreat no farther and flattened themselves
against the wall, not knowing what was going to happen because of that
incomprehensible head of fire, and especially now, because of the more
intense, swarming, living, "numerous" sound, for the sound was
certainly made up of hundreds of little sounds that moved in the
darkness, under the fiery face.

And the fiery face came on ... with its noise ... came level with them!
...

And the two companions, flat against their wall, felt their hair stand
on end with horror, for they now knew what the thousand noises meant.
They came in a troop, hustled along in the shadow by innumerable little
hurried waves, swifter than the waves that rush over the sands at high
tide, little night-waves foaming under the moon, under the fiery head
that was like a moon. And the little waves passed between their legs,
climbing up their legs, irresistibly, and Raoul and the Persian could
no longer restrain their cries of horror, dismay and pain. Nor could
they continue to hold their hands at the level of their eyes: their
hands went down to their legs to push back the waves, which were full
of little legs and nails and claws and teeth.

Yes, Raoul and the Persian were ready to faint, like Pampin the
fireman. But the head of fire turned round in answer to their cries,
and spoke to them:

"Don't move! Don't move! ... Whatever you do, don't come after me!
... I am the rat-catcher! ... Let me pass, with my rats! ..."

And the head of fire disappeared, vanished in the darkness, while the
passage in front of it lit up, as the result of the change which the
rat-catcher had made in his dark lantern. Before, so as not to scare
the rats in front of him, he had turned his dark lantern on himself,
lighting up his own head; now, to hasten their flight, he lit the dark
space in front of him. And he jumped along, dragging with him the
waves of scratching rats, all the thousand sounds.

Raoul and the Persian breathed again, though still trembling.

"I ought to have remembered that Erik talked to me about the
rat-catcher," said the Persian. "But he never told me that he looked
like that ... and it's funny that I should never have met him before
... Of course, Erik never comes to this part!"

[Illustration: two page color illustration]