But even as she spoke her speech was cloven by another hoarse
proclamation from the dark street, again horribly articulate.

"Major Brown, Major Brown, how did the jackal die?"

Brown dashed out of the door and down the steps, but again he was
frustrated; there was no figure in sight, and the street was far
too long and empty for the shouter to have run away. Even the
rational Major was a little shaken as he returned in a certain time
to the drawing-room. Scarcely had he done so than the terrific
voice came:

"Major Brown, Major Brown, where did--"

Brown was in the street almost at a bound, and he was in time--in
time to see something which at first glance froze the blood. The
cries appeared to come from a decapitated head resting on the
pavement.

The next moment the pale Major understood. It was the head of a
man thrust through the coal-hole in the street. The next moment,
again, it had vanished, and Major Brown turned to the lady.
"Where's your coal-cellar?" he said, and stepped out into the
passage.

She looked at him with wild grey eyes. "You will not go down," she
cried, "alone, into the dark hole, with that beast?"

"Is this the way?" replied Brown, and descended the kitchen stairs
three at a time. He flung open the door of a black cavity and