inable. Then I heard the
steps again. They were on my side of the stream now. The stones rattled
within a few yards of where I lay. Hardly daring to breathe, I crouched
upon my rock. Then the steps drew away. I heard the splash as it
returned across the river, and the sound died away into the distance in
the direction from which it had come.

For a long time I lay upon the rock, too much horrified to move. I
thought of the sound which I had heard coming from the depths of the
cave, of Armitage's fears, of the strange impression in the mud, and
now came this final and absolute proof that there was indeed some
inconceivable monster, something utterly unearthly and dreadful, which
lurked in the hollow of the mountain. Of its nature or form I could
frame no conception, save that it was both light-footed and gigantic.
The combat between my reason, which told me that such things could not
be, and my senses, which told me that they were, raged within me as I
lay. Finally, I was almost ready to persuade myself that this experience
had been part of some evil dream, and that my abnormal condition
might have conjured up an hallucination. But there remained one final
experience which removed the last possibility of doubt from my mind.

I had taken my matches from my armpit and felt them. They seemed
perfectly hard and dry. Stooping down into a crevice of the rocks, I
tried one of them. To my delight it took fire at once. I lit the candle,
and, with a terrified backward glance into the obscure depths of the
cavern, I hurried in the direction of the Roman passage. As I did so
I passed the patch of mud on which I had seen the huge imprint. Now I
stood astonished before it, for there were three similar imprints upon
its surface, enormous in size, irregular in outline, of a depth which
indicated the ponderous weight which had left them. Then a great terror
surged over me. Stooping and shading my candle with my hand, I ran in a
frenzy of fear to the rocky archway, hastened up it, and never stopped
until, with weary feet and panting lungs, I rushed up the final slope of
stones, broke through the tangle of briars, and flung myself exhausted
upon the soft grass under the peaceful light of the stars. It was
three in the morning when I reached the farm-house, and today I am all
unstrung and quivering after my terrific adventure. As yet I have told
no one. I must move warily in the matter. What would the poor lonely
women, or the uneducated y