And that which chilled my heart was enhanced by the fact that before me, where Rhodes and the Dromans must be; there was no agitation amongst the ferns, not the slightest movement amongst them. I was alone, alone in that place of dense, concealing vegetation, of silence and mystery. But no; they were there, my companions, right there before me. The ferns hid them, that was all. But why were they so still? Why utterly silent? What had happened? That exclamation, that scream, the silence that had followed—what did it mean?
It has taken some space to set this down, but it must not be imagined that the space itself during which I stood there was a long one. It was, in fact, very brief; it was no more, I suppose, than fifteen or twenty seconds. Then I was moving forward through the crushed ferns, as swiftly as was consistent with caution, and, of course, with the revolver gripped ready for instant action.
I had covered perhaps three yards, had reached the point where the way crushed through the fern-growth turned sharp to the left to pass between two great tree-trunks; then it was that I heard it—a low, rustling sound and close at hand.
Something was moving there; it was moving toward me.
Chapter 36
GORGONIC HORROR
Almost that very instant I heard it, that low, rustling sound made by something moving through (as I thought) the fern-growth ceased. My companions! What had happened to them?
I began moving forward, every second that passed enhancing that fear which chilled my heart. For each step took me nearer to, though not directly toward, that spot from which had come that mysterious sound.
Just as I was passing between those great tree-trunks, came a sound that fetched me up in my tracks, came a sudden low voice: