"What is it? Le Duc, what have you done?"
"It is all right. No harm will come." The Frenchman's voice was treble with agitation.
"Good heavens, Moir, there's a large animal in the room. Here it is, close by my chair! Go away! Go away!"
It was Harvey Deacon's voice, and then came the sound of a blow upon some hard object. And then ... And then ... how can I tell you what happened then?
Some huge thing hurtled against us in the darkness, rearing, stamping, smashing, springing, snorting. The table was splintered. We were scattered in every direction. It clattered and scrambled amongst us, rushing with horrible energy from one corner of the room to another. We were all screaming with fear, grovelling upon our hands and knees to get away from it. Something trod upon my left hand, and I felt the bones splinter under the weight.
"A light! A light!" some one yelled.
"Moir, you have matches, matches!"
"No, I have none. Deacon, where are the matches? For God's sake, the matches!"
"I can't find them. Here, you Frenchman, stop it!"
"It is beyond me. Oh, mon Dieu, I cannot stop it. The door! Where is the door?"