"We have plenty of torches?" asked Dream.
"Plenty."
"Then we will see what it is."
She waved her torch round her head till it was all ablaze and then flung it down. It fell on that great mass in the middle of the lake. The mass turned slowly over, showing shaggy hair matted with slime. The smell of burning hair came up to us and with it a deep groan that seemed to shake the cave.
We fled in panic. I must indeed ascribe it to chance and to no courage of my own that I kept my grip of the torch. We did not even pause to look at the chalk marks we had made for our guidance, and in consequence found ourselves lost for a while in the labyrinth of passages at the entrance to the cave. At last we found the way out and made our way to the forest. There we spent the remainder of the night, wakeful and talking of the wonders we had seen. It was the last night that we spent together.
The sun had scarcely risen when I saw a few feet away from us a little smoke flickering over the powdered soil.
"What is that?" I asked.
"That is the end," said Dream. "We shall die together."
Rapidly the smoke, which did not rise and disperse, became more opaque, vibrating until it took solid shape. Before us leered the misshapen head and bright beady eyes of the Professor.
His right hand covered with a rubber glove slipped out of the boot and drew forth the death-rod.