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.