"God help me!" she murmured in a low voice, eloquent of distress and pain.
Then she pushed Harry aside and rose slowly to her feet, refusing his assistance.
"In the name of Heaven, what is it?" Harry demanded, turning to me.
"We have found the devil at last," I answered, with an attempt to laugh, which sounded hollow in my own ears.
Desiree could tell us nothing, except that she had felt herself drawn forward by some strange power that had seemed to come from the baneful, glittering eyes. She was bewildered and stunned and unable to talk coherently. We assisted her to the wall, and she sat there with her back propped against it, breathing heavily from the exhaustion of terror.
"We must find water," I said, and Harry nodded, hesitating.
I understood him. Danger could not have stayed him nor fear, but the horror of the thing which roamed about the cavern, dark as darkness itself and possessed of some strange power that could not be withstood, was enough to make him pause. For myself it was impossible; I was barely able to stand. So Harry went off alone in search of water and I stayed with Desiree.
It was perhaps half an hour before he returned, and we were shaken with fear for him long before he appeared. When he did so it was with a white face and trembling limbs, in spite of his evident effort at steadiness.
"There is water over there," said he, pointing across the cavern. "A stream runs across the corner and disappears beneath the wall. There is nothing to carry it in. You must come with me."
"What has happened?" I asked, for even his voice was unsteady.