Little by little it increased, or rather approached, until it
sounded but a few feet from me on every side, sinister and
menacing. It was the silent, suppressed breathing of something
living--whether animal or man--creeping ever nearer.
Then was the darkness doubly horrible. I sat paralyzed with my
utter helplessness, though fear, thank Heaven, did not strike me!
I could hear no footstep; no sound of any kind but that low,
rushing breathing; but it now was certain that whatever the thing
was, it was not alone.
From every side I heard it--closer, closer--until finally I felt
the hot, fetid breath in my very face. My nerves quivered in
disgust, not far from terror.
I sprang to my feet with a desperate cry to Harry and swung
toward him.
There was no answering sound, no rush of feet, nothing; but I
felt my throat gripped in monstrous, hairy fingers.
I tried to struggle, and immediately was crushed to the ground by
the overpowering weight of a score of soft, ill-smelling bodies.
The grasp on my throat tightened; my arms relaxed, my brain
reeled, and I knew no more.
Chapter VII.
THE FIGHT IN THE DARK.
I returned to consciousness with a sickening sensation of nausea
and unreality.
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