beast.

And so, if at other times within the past few weeks Bertha Kircher
had felt that her situation was particularly hopeless, she was now
ready to admit that hope was absolutely extinct.

The streets were beginning to fill with the strange men and women
of this strange city. Sometimes individuals would notice them
and seem to take a great interest in them, and again others would
pass with vacant stares, seemingly unconscious of their immediate
surroundings and paying no attention whatsoever to the prisoners.
Once they heard hideous screams up a side street, and looking they
saw a man in the throes of a demoniacal outburst of rage, similar
to that which they had witnessed in the recent attack upon
Smith-Oldwick. This creature was venting his insane rage upon a
child which he repeatedly struck and bit, pausing only long enough
to shriek at frequent intervals. Finally, just before they passed
out of sight the creature raised the limp body of the child high
above his head and cast it down with all his strength upon the
pavement, and then, wheeling and screaming madly at the top of his
lungs, he dashed headlong up the winding street.

Two women and several men had stood looking on at the cruel attack.
They were at too great a distance for the Europeans to know whether
their facial expressions portrayed pity or rage, but be that as it
may, none offered to interfere.

A few yards farther on a hideous hag leaned from a second story
window where she laughed and jibbered and made horrid grimaces at
all who passed her. Others went their ways apparently attending to
whatever duties called them, as soberly as the inhabitants of any
civilized community.

"God," muttered Smith-Oldwick, "what an awful place!"

The girl turned suddenly toward him. "You still have your pistol?"
she asked him.

"Yes," he replied. "I tucked it inside my shirt. They did not
search me and it was too dark for them to see whether I carried any
weapons or not. So I hid it in the hope that I might get through
with it."

She moved closer to him and took hold of his hand. "Save one
cartridge for me, please?" she begged.

Smith-Oldwick looked down at her and blinked his eyes very rapidly.
An unfamiliar and disconcerting moisture had come into them. He
had realized, of course, how bad a plight was theirs but somehow
it had seemed to affect him only: it did not seem possible that
anyone could harm this sweet and beautiful girl.

And that she shoul