They started from the spot as if in a panic, signing to us with frantic gestures to follow.
I started; but Rhodes, for some inexplicable reason, stood there, his look fixed on the spot whence came those demoniacal shrieks. The eyes had disappeared, but in almost that very instant that I turned, they shone again. I gazed at them as though in fascinated horror, forgetting for the moment that there was something behind me.
Up the eyes rose. A black thing was visible there in the darkness, but its shape was amorphous, mysterious. Up the eyes rose, seeming to dilate, and the fire in them grew brighter and brighter, became so unearthly that I began to wonder if I were going insane. The eyes swayed, swayed back and forth for some moments, then gave a sudden lurch into darkness. The shrieks broke, then came again, more horrible, if that were possible, than before.
"Come on!" I cried, starting. "For Heaven's sake, Milton, let's get out of this, or I'll go mad!"
"What in the world," said Rhodes, reluctantly turning to follow, "can that thing be?"
"Let's get out of this hellish place. Let's do it before it's too late. Remember, there is something behind us. Maybe monsters in other directions too."
"Well," said Rhodes complacently as he followed along in my wake, "we have our revolvers."
"Revolvers? Just see what your revolver has done. A revolver is only a revolver, while that thing—who knows what that monster is?"
"The Dromans know, or at any rate, they think that they do."
"And look at the Dromans. Fear has them. Did you ever see fear like that before? See how they are signing to us to come on. Even Drorathusa is shaken to the very soul."