There was nothing there . . . only moonlight . . . nothing . . . yes, something on the floor . . . some-thing light and lacy, crushed into shapelessness . . .  Desire’s hat.

He picked it up.  The wires of its chiffon frame, broken and twisted, fell limp in his hand.

There was no other sign in the room.  The bed was untouched.  The Thing which had wrecked its insatiate rage upon the hat had not lingered.  Spence went out slowly.  There would be time for everything now—­since time had ceased to matter.  He laid the hat aside gently.  There might be work for his hands to do.

With mechanical care he searched the cottage.  No trace of disturbance met him anywhere until he reached the kitchen.  Something had happened there Over-turned chairs and broken table—­a door half off its hinge.  Someone had fled from the house this way . . . fled where?

There were so many places!

In his mind’s eye Spence saw them . . . the steep and slippery cliff, with shingle far below . . . the clumps of dense bracken . . . the deep, dark crevices where water splashed! . . .

He went outside.  It was not so bright now.  There were clouds on the moon.  One side of the clearing lay wholly in shadow.  He waited and, as the light brightened, he saw the thing he sought—­trampled bracken, a broken bush. . . .  He followed the trail with a slow certitude of which ordinarily he would have been incapable. . . .  It did not lead very far.  The trees thinned abruptly.  A rounded moss-covered rock rose up between him and the moon . . . and on the rock, grotesque and darkly clear, a crouching figure—­looking down. . . .

A curious sound broke from Spence’s throat.  He stooped and sprang.  But quick as he was, the figure on the rock was quicker.  It slipped aside.  Spence heard a guttural exclamation and caught a glimpse of a yellow face.

“Li Ho!”

The Chinaman pulled him firmly back from the edge of the moss-covered rock.

“All same Li Ho,” he said.  “You come click—­but not too dam click.”

“I know.  Where is he?”

It was the one thing which held interest for Bern’s Spence now.

Li Ho stepped gingerly to the edge of the rounded rock.  In the clear light, Spence could see how the moss had been scraped from the margin.

“Him down there,” said Li Ho.  “Moon-devil push ’um.  Plenty stlong devil!” Li Ho shrugged.

Spence’s clenched hands relaxed.

“Dead?” he asked dully.

“Heap much dead,” said Li Ho.  “Oh, too much squash!” He made a gesture.

Benis was not quite sure what happened then.  He remembers leaning against a tree.  Presently he was aware of a horrible smell—­the smell of some object which Li Ho held to his nostrils.

“Plenty big smell,” said Li Ho.  “Make ’urn sit up.”

Benis sat up.

“Where is—­” he began.  But his throat closed upon the question.  He could not ask.