gas out, I could never be
sufficiently grateful."

They went out in a body, with the exception of Leek, peering carefully
before them as they went George turned the light out in the bar and they
returned unmolested to the coffee-room, and, avoiding the sardonic smile
of Leek, prepared to separate for the night.

"Give me the candle while you put the gas out, George," said the
traveller.

The waiter handed it to him and extinguished the gas, and at the same
moment all distinctly heard a step in the passage outside. It stopped
at the door, and as they watched with bated breath, the door creaked and
slowly opened. Malcolm fell back open-mouthed, as a white, leering face,
with sunken eyeballs and close-cropped bullet head, appeared at the
opening.

For a few seconds the creature stood regarding them, blinking in a
strange fashion at the candle. Then, with a sidling movement, it came a
little way into the room and stood there as if bewildered.

Not a man spoke or moved, but all watched with a horrible fascination
as the creature removed its dirty neckcloth and its head rolled on its
shoulder. For a minute it paused, and then, holding the rag before it,
moved towards Malcolm.

The candle went out suddenly with a flash and a bang. There was a smell
of powder, and something writhing in the darkness on the floor. A
faint, choking cough, and then silence. Malcolm was the first to speak.
"Matches," he said, in a strange voice. George struck one. Then he leapt
at the gas and a burner flamed from the match. Malcolm touched the
thing on the floor with his foot and found it soft. He looked at his
companions. They mouthed inquiries at him, but he shook his head. He lit
the candle, and, kneeling down, examined the silent thing on the floor.
Then he rose swiftly, and dipping his handkerchief in the water-jug,
bent down again and grimly wiped the white face. Then he sprang back
with a cry of incredulous horror, pointing at it. Leek's pistol fell
to the floor and he shut out the sight with his hands, but the others,
crowding forward, gazed spell-bound at the dead face of Hirst.

Before a word was spoken the door opened and Somers hastily entered the
room. His eyes fell on the floor. "Good God!" he cried. "You didn't--"

Nobody spoke.

"I told him not to," he said, in a suffocating voice. "I told him not
to. I told him--"

He leaned against the wall, deathly sick, put his arms out feebly, and
fell fainting into the traveller's