eyes of wild beasts, and the spectral figures their victims in
the den."

Kirby laughed. "You are fanciful. Come, let us get out of the
den. The spectral figures, as you call them, are a little too
real for me to fancy a close proximity in the darkness,--
unarmed, too."

The others rose, buttoning their overcoats, and lighting cigars.

"Raining, still," said Doctor May, "and hard. Where did we
leave the coach, Mitchell?"

"At the other side of the works.--Kirby, what's that?"

Mitchell started back, half-frightened, as, suddenly turning a
corner, the white figure of a woman faced him in the darkness,--
a woman, white, of giant proportions, crouching on the ground,
her arms flung out in some wild gesture of warning.

"Stop! Make that fire burn there!" cried Kirby, stopping short.

The flame burst out, flashing the gaunt figure into bold relief.

Mitchell drew a long breath.

"I thought it was alive," he said, going up curiously.

The others followed.