On we went, my sister leading.

Each moment, the nearing sounds of the footsteps, told me that the brutes were gaining on us, rapidly.  Fortunately, I am accustomed to live, in some ways, an active life.  As it was, the strain of the race was beginning to tell severely upon me.

Ahead, I could see the back door—­luckily it was open.  I was some half-dozen yards behind Mary, now, and my breath was sobbing in my throat.  Then, something touched my shoulder.  I wrenched my head ’round, quickly, and saw one of those monstrous, pallid faces close to mine.  One of the creatures, having outrun its companions, had almost overtaken me.  Even as I turned, it made a fresh grab.  With a sudden effort, I sprang to one side, and, swinging my gun by the barrel, brought it crashing down upon the foul creature’s head.  The Thing dropped, with an almost human groan.

Even this short delay had been nearly sufficient to bring the rest of the brutes down upon me; so that, without an instant’s waste of time, I turned and ran for the door.

Reaching it, I burst into the passage; then, turning quickly, slammed and bolted the door, just as the first of the creatures rushed against it, with a sudden shock.

My sister sat, gasping, in a chair.  She seemed in a fainting condition; but I had no time then to spend on her.  I had to make sure that all the doors were fastened.  Fortunately, they were.  The one leading from my study into the gardens, was the last to which I went.  I had just had time to note that it was secured, when I thought I heard a noise outside.  I stood perfectly silent, and listened.  Yes!  Now I could distinctly hear a sound of whispering, and something slithered over the panels, with a rasping, scratchy noise.  Evidently, some of the brutes were feeling with their claw-hands, about the door, to discover whether there were any means of ingress.

That the creatures should so soon have found the door was—­to me—­a proof of their reasoning capabilities.  It assured me that they must not be regarded, by any means, as mere animals.  I had felt something of this before, when that first Thing peered in through my window.  Then I had applied the term superhuman to it, with an almost instinctive knowledge that the creature was something different from the brute-beast.  Something beyond human; yet in no good sense; but rather as something foul and hostile to the great and good in humanity.  In a word, as something intelligent, and yet inhuman.  The very thought of the creatures filled me with revulsion.

Now, I bethought me of my sister, and, going to the cupboard, I got out a flask of brandy, and a wine-glass.  Taking these, I went down to the kitchen, carrying a lighted candle with me.  She was not sitting in the chair, but had fallen out, and was lying upon the floor, face downward.