He stopped short, for there was no one in sight, and, turning sharply, the dim, giant-like figure which had represented Panton was invisible.

“Hi! Panton, where are you?” he cried, in doubt now whether he had turned completely round, and in his excitement he made a fresh step or two, then, feeling that he might have gone wrong, he tried to return, but only to become confused as he was conscious of the heat growing stifling, of a strange ringing in his ears, and either of a peculiar dimness of vision or the sudden thickening of the mist.

Then, with his heart beating heavily, he tried to raise his voice as he shouted with all his might,—

“Panton!—Drew! Where are you?”

There was a low hissing sound apparently rising from somewhere by his feet, otherwise all was silent as the grave.

Oliver Lane’s sensations were for the moment . . . Read More