man who had killed me, seemed to recede. It swept out of existence
''Euston!' clamoured the voices outside; 'Euston!'
The carriage door opened admitting a flood of sound, and a porter stood regarding us. The sounds of doors slamming, and the hoof-clatter of cab-horses, and behind these things the featureless remote roar of the London cobble-stones, came to my ears. A truckload of lighted lamps blazed along the platform.
'A darkness, a flood of darkness that opened and spread and blotted out all things.'
'Any luggage, sir?' said the porter.
'And that was the end?' I asked.
He seemed to hesitate. Then, almost inaudibly, he answered, 'No.'
'You mean?'
'I couldn't get to her. She was there on the other side of the temple
And then ''Yes,' I insisted. 'Yes?'
'Nightmares,' he cried; 'nightmares indeed! My God! Great birds that fought and tore.'
Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh.