“What’s that?” he exclaimed.

Lenora still clung to his arm.

“I hate this place,” she whispered.  “It terrifies me.  What are we looking for, Mr. Quest?”

“Can’t say that I know exactly,” the latter answered, “but I guess we’ll find out where that cry came from.  Sounded to me uncommonly like a human effort.”

They made their way up as far as the hedge, which they skirted for a few yards until they found an opening.  Then Quest gave vent to a little exclamation.  Immediately in front of them was a small hut, built apparently of sticks and bamboos, with a stronger framework behind.  The sloping roof was grass-grown and entwined with rushes.  The only apology for a window was a queer little hole set quite close to the roof.

“The sort of place where the Professor might keep some of his pets,” Quest observed thoughtfully.  “We’ll have a look inside, any way.”

There was a rude-looking door, but Quest, on trying it, found it locked.  They walked around the place but found no other opening.  All the time from inside they could hear queer, scuffling sounds.  Lenora’s cheeks grew paler.

“Must we stay?” she murmured.  “I don’t think I want to see what’s inside.  Mr. Quest!  Mr. Quest!”

She clung to his arm.  They were opposite the little aperture which served as a window, and at that moment it suddenly framed the face of a creature, human in features, diabolical in expression.  Long hair drooped over one cheek, the close-set eyes were filled with fury, the white teeth gleamed menacingly.  Quest felt in his pocket for his revolver.

“Say, that’s some face!” he remarked.  “I’d hate to spoil it.”

Even as he spoke, it disappeared.  Quest took out the little gate opening apparatus from his pocket.

“We’ve got to get inside there, Lenora,” he announced, stepping forward.

She followed him silently.  A few turns of the wrist and the door yielded.  Keeping Lenora a little behind him, Quest gazed around eagerly.  Exactly in front of him, clad only in a loin cloth, with hunched-up shoulders, a necklace around his neck, with blazing eyes and ugly gleaming teeth, crouched some unrecognisable creature, human yet inhuman, a monkey and yet a man.  There were a couple of monkeys swinging by their tails from a bar, and a leopard chained to a staple in the ground, walking round and round in the far corner, snapping and snarling every time he glanced towards the new-comers.  The creature in front of him stretched out a hairy hand towards a club, and gripped it.  Quest drew a long breath.  His eyes were set hard.

“Drop that club,” he ordered.

The creature suddenly sprang up.  The club was waved around his head.

“Drop it,” Quest repeated firmly.  “You will sit down in your corner.  You will take no more notice of us.  Do you hear?  You will drop the club.  You will sit down in your corner.  You will sleep.”