Johannes could not help her. He had to follow the hands. He still heard giggling and snickering, and saw the little hands go away—downstairs, through the hall, outside.
Save for the shining of the stars—sharp and clear in the black sky—it was still very dark out-of-doors.
On the terrace, there was visible to Johannes, a tall, dark figure. He could look at it better than at the sneering ones. He recognized it, instantly. It was He with whom he had traveled by sea.
The dark figure now took the lead with slow, firm strides. Pluizer went next, but in between these two there was a third.
It was quite impossible for Johannes to look at that third one. When he tried to look, he felt an indescribable agony.
That third one! Yes, he certainly knew it well. It wasit! Do you understand? The It which lies in wait around the corner, outside the door, while you dream of being alone in a dark room, vainly trying to call for help.
It, the most frightful object!—so frightful that no one can either look at or describe it.
These three now passed down the dark avenue of the park until they came to the black pool lying deathly still and calmly expectant—shining beneath the starlight.
There the three sat down and waited.
It was still as still could be. Not a leaf rustled.