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She sat up in bed and listened, but for a time heard nothing. Then there came to her the sound of deep, irregular breathing. It did not come from within the room, but from the corridor without. She was out of bed in an instant and went toward the door. She heard it again—an indescribable sound. Perhaps it was somebody who had been taken ill?

She put her hand on the knob of the door, and, as she did so, she almost swooned, for the knob turned slowly in her hand. Whoever it was outside the door was trying to get into the room! For a second she stood breathless, leaning against the wall, her heart thumping painfully, then:

"Who's there?" she whispered.

The answer was unexpected. Some huge body was suddenly flung at the panel, and she felt it sag under the weight. She stood, paralysed with fear, and then a hollow voice came to her through the keyhole.

"Open the door, you devil! It is the King of Bonginda—obey!"

The voice was a harsh, slurred growl of sound. And then she realized, and all the blood left her face. The Terror! This uncouth thing that haunted the countryside, this huge, obscene shape!