world that he was, he did not notice for some time--how long, he had
no way of telling--that there were other beings which tried to impede
his progress. But as he grew more accustomed to the unfamiliar
sensations he was undergoing, he found his path blocked again and
again by queer beings.

They were living, without doubt, and had intelligence, and evinced
hostility toward him. But they were shapeless, shapeless as amoebas.
He heard them in a sort of soundless whisper, and could see them
without the use of eyes. And he shuddered, though he could feel no
body in which he might be confined. Still, when he pinched viciously
with invisible fingers at the spot where his face should have been, a
twinge of pain registered on the vague consciousness which appeared to
be all there was to him.

He was not sure of his substance, though he could evidently experience
human sensations with his amorphous body. He did not know whether he
could see; yet, he was dodging this way and that, as the beings who
occupied this world tried to stop him.

They gave him the impression of gray shapes, and in coppery shadows
things gleamed and closed in on him.

He seemed to hear a cry, and he knew that he was receiving a call for
help from Madge Crawford. He tried to run, pushed determinedly toward
the spot, impelled by his love for the girl.

* * * * *

Now, as he hurried, he occasionally was stopped short by collision
with the formless shapes which were all about him. He was hampered by
them, for they followed him, making a sound like wind heard in a
dream. Whatever medium he was in was evidently thickly inhabited by
the hostile beings who claimed this world as their own. Though he
could not actually feel the medium, he could sense that it was heavy.
He leaped and ran, fighting his way through the increasing hosts, and
the roar of their voice-impressions increased in his consciousness.

Yet there seemed to be nothing, nothing tangible save vagueness. He
felt he was in a blind spot in space, a place of no dimensions, no
time, where beings abhorred by nature, things which had never
developed any dimensional laws, existed.

The cry for help struck him, with more force this time. Lambert,
whatever form he was in, realised that he was close to the end of his
journey to Madge Crawford.

He tried to speak, and had the impression that he said something
reassuring. He then bumped into some vibrational being which