tail ceased to move; his own ears drew back
instinctively, flattening themselves at the sides of the square strong
head. There was a movement near by, and he turned quick eyes to see
the lithe young love of his heart stepping softly into her place
beside him. When he turned again his adversary had vanished.

* * * * *

Yet he still watched. Still there was no sound from the window at
which the other had stared just now: no oblong of light shone out into
the darkness to explain that sudden withdrawal from the fray.

All was as silent as it had been just now; on all sides windows were
closed; now and then came a human voice, just a word or two, spoken
and answered from one of those pits beneath, and the steady rumble of
traffic went on far away across the roofs; but here, in the immediate
neighborhood, all was at peace. He knew well enough the window in
question; he had leapt himself upon the sill once and again and seen
the foodless waste of floor and carpet and furniture within.

Yet as he watched and waited his own horror grew. That for which in
men we have as yet no term was strong within him, as in every beast
that lives by perception rather than reason; and he too by this
strange faculty knew well enough that something was abroad, raying out
from that silent curtained unseen window--something of an utterly
different order from that of dog or flung shoe and furious
vituperation--something that affected certain nerves within his body
in a new and awful manner. Once or twice in his life he had been
conscious of it before, once in an empty room, once in a room tenanted
by a mere outline beneath a sheet and closed by a locked door.

His heart too seemed melted within him; his tail too hung limply
behind the stucco parapet, and he made no answering movement to the
tiny crooning note that sounded once in his ears.

And still the horror grew....

Presently he withdrew one claw from the crumbling edge, raising his
head delicately; and then the other. For an instant longer he waited,
feeling his back heave uncontrollably. Then, dropping noiselessly on
to the lead, he fled beneath the sheltering parapet, a noiseless
shadow in the gloom; and his mate fled with him.

_Chapter IX_

I

Laurie turned slowly over in bed, drew a long breath, expelled it,
and, releasing his arms from the bed-clothes, sat up. He switched on
the light by his bed, glanced at his watch, switched off the