e beneath the smooth boil and
heave of such a river the dim shape of crocodile or water-monster, so in
that moving dark there seemed to lie Something from which the mind
shrank, appalled. Now gigantic tentacles rolled about a central mass,
groping out in unsatisfied greed. Now an ape-like shape seemed to stalk
there, rearing up its monstrous stature until all that Breach was choked
with it. It fell down into vagueness, where huge coils upraised and sank
their loops. But through all change steadily fixed upon me I felt the
eyes of the Unseen.

I stood my ground. With what pain and draining cost to my poor endurance
there is no need to say. Each instant I anticipated the surge of that
returning sea whose flood should smother out the human spark upon its
shore. This I had brought upon myself. Yes, and would again to help
Desire Michell! If I had sheltered her for one hour----!

The Thing halted, stooped.

"Man, cast off the woman," It snarled at me. "Fool, evil goes with her.
For her you suffer. Thrust her from your breast."

I looked down. Wavering against my breast, just above my heart glimmered
a spot of light. The little hurrying steps had ceased. I thought, if the
bright head of Desire Michell were rested there against me, how I would
strive to shield her from sight of the Thing yonder. In the sweep of
that will to protect, I drew my coat about the spot of hovering
brightness.

I felt her press warm against me. I heard the roar of the death-wave far
out in that sea. Before me----

Oh Horror of the Frontier, what broke through the dread Breach. What
formed there, more inhuman from Its likeness to humanity? What Hand
reached for me--for--us----

CHAPTER XVI

"I have had a dream past the wit of man to say what dream
it was."--MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.

"Mr. Locke! Mr. Locke!"

I opened heavy eyes to meet the eyes of Ethan Vere, who bent over me.
Phillida was there, too, pale of face. But what was That just vanishing
into the darkness beyond my window-sill? What malignant glare seared
disappointment and grim promise across my consciousness? Had I brought
with me or did I hear now a whispered: "_Pygmy, again!_"

"Cousin, Cousin, are you very ill?" Phillida was half sobbing. "Won't
you drink the brandy, please? Oh, Ethan, how cold he is to touch!"

"Hush, dear," Vere bade, in his slow steadfast way. "Mr. Locke, can you
swallow some of this?"

I became aware that his arm supported me upright