But
at the foot of the throne lay another object that had not been there
before--the severed head of Nureddin el Mekru stared sightlessly up
at the gray light filtering through the stone ceiling. The bloodless
lips were drawn back from the teeth in a ghastly grin, the staring eyes
mirrored an intolerable horror. In the thick dust of the floor three
spoors showed--one of the shaykh's where he had followed the red jewel
as it rolled to the wall, and above it two other sets of tracks, coming
to the throne and returning to the wall--vast, shapeless tracks, as of
splayed feet, taloned and gigantic, neither human nor animal. "My God!" choked Steve. "It was true--and the Thing--the Thing I
saw----"

       *       *       *       *       *

Steve remembered the flight from that chamber as a rushing nightmare,
in which he and his companion hurtled headlong down an endless stair
that was a gray well of fear, raced blindly through dusty silent
chambers, past the glowering idol in the mighty hall and into the
blazing light of the desert sun, where they fell slavering, fighting
for breath. Again Steve was roused by the Afridi's voice: "_Sahib, sahib_, in the
Name of Allah the Compassionate, our luck has turned!" Steve looked at his companion as a man might look in a trance. The big
Afghan's garments were in tatters, and blood-soaked. He was stained
with dust and caked with blood, and his voice was a croak. But his eyes
were alight with hope and he pointed with a trembling finger. "In the shade of yon ruined wall!" he croaked, striving to moisten his
blackened lips. "_Allah il allah!_ The horses of the men we killed! With canteens and food-pouches at the saddle-horns! Those dogs fled
without halting for the steeds of their comrades!" New life surged up into Steve's bosom and he rose, staggering. "Out of here," he mumbled. "Out of here, quick!" Like dying men they stumbled to the horses, tore them loose and climbed
fumblingly into the saddles. "We'll lead the spare mounts," croaked Steve, and Yar Ali nodded
emphatic agreement. "Belike we shall need them ere we sight the coast." Though their tortured nerves screamed for the water that swung in
canteens at the saddle-horns, they turned the mounts aside and, swaying
in the saddle, rode like flying corpses down the long sandy street
of Kara-Shehr, between the ruined palaces and the crumbling columns,
crossed the fallen wall and swept out into the desert. Not once did
either glance back toward that black pile of ancient horror, nor did
either speak until the ruins faded into the hazy distance. Then and
only then did they draw rein and ease their thirst. "_Allah il allah!_" said Yar Ali piously. "Those dogs have beaten me
until it is as though every bone in my body were broken. Dismount, I
beg thee, _sahib_, and let me probe for that accursed bullet, and dress
thy shoulder to the best of my meager ability." While this was going on, Yar Ali spoke, avoiding his friend's eye, "You
said, _sahib_, you said something about--about seeing? What saw ye, in
Allah's name?" A strong shudder shook the American's steely frame. "You didn't look when--when the--the Thing put back the jewel in the
skeleton's hand and left Nureddin's head on the dais?" "By Allah, not I!" swore Yar Ali. "My eyes were as closed as if they
had been welded together by the molten irons of Satan!" Steve made no reply until the comrades had once more swung into the
saddle and started on their long trek for the coast, which, with spare
horses, food, water and weapons, they had a good chance to reach. "I looked," the American said somberly. "I wish I had not; I know
I'll dream about it for the rest of my life. I had only a glance; I
couldn't describe it as a man describes an earthly thing. God help me,
it wasn't earthly or sane either. Mankind isn't the first owner of the
earth; there were Beings here before his coming--and now, survivals
of hideously ancient epochs. Maybe spheres of alien dimensions press
unseen on this material universe today. Sorcerers have called up
sleeping devils before now and controlled them with magic. It is not
unreasonable to suppose an Assyrian magician could invoke an elemental
demon out of the earth to avenge him and guard something that must have
come out of Hell in the first place. "I'll try to tell you what I glimpsed; then we'll never speak of
it again. It was gigantic and black and shadowy; it was a hulking
monstrosity that walked upright like a man, but it was like a toad,
too, and it was winged and tentacled. I saw only its back; if I'd seen
the front of it--its face--I'd have undoubtedly lost my mind. The old
Arab was right; God help us, it was the monster that Xuthltan called
up out of the dark blind caverns of the earth to guard the Fire of