The young men hastily dashed through a thicket in the direction from
whence his voice sounded, and then they found him looking wild and
terrified, and with something in his hand which looked like a portion of
clothing. "Which way, which way?" they both cried in a breath. He leant heavily on the arm of George, as he pointed along a vista of
trees, and said in a low voice,--

"God help us all. It is not human. Look there--look there--do you not
see it?" They looked in the direction he indicated. At the end of this vista was
the wall of the garden. At that point it was full twelve feet in height,
and as they looked, they saw the hideous, monstrous form they had traced
from the chamber of their sister, making frantic efforts to clear the
obstacle. Then they saw it bound from the ground to the top of the wall, which it
very nearly reached, and then each time it fell back again into the
garden with such a dull, heavy sound, that the earth seemed to shake
again with the concussion. They trembled--well indeed they might, and
for some minutes they watched the figure making its fruitless efforts to
leave the place. "What--what is it?" whispered Henry, in hoarse accents. "God, what can
it possibly be?" "I know not," replied Mr. Marchdale. "I did seize it. It was cold and
clammy like a corpse. It cannot be human." "Not human?" "Look at it now. It will surely escape now." "No, no--we will not be terrified thus--there is Heaven above us. Come
on, and, for dear Flora's sake, let us make an effort yet to seize this
bold intruder." "Take this pistol," said Marchdale. "It is the fellow of the one I
fired. Try its efficacy." "He will be gone," exclaimed Henry, as at this moment, after many
repeated attempts and fearful falls, the figure reached the top of the
wall, and then hung by its long arms a moment or two, previous to
dragging itself completely up. The idea of the appearance, be it what it might, entirely escaping,
seemed to nerve again Mr. Marchdale, and he, as well as the two young
men, ran forward towards the wall. They got so close to the figure
before it sprang down on the outer side of the wall, that to miss
killing it with the bullet from the pistol was a matter of utter
impossibility, unless wilfully. Henry had the weapon, and he pointed it full at the tall form with a
steady aim. He pulled the trigger--the explosion followed, and that the
bullet did its office there could be no manner of doubt, for the figure
gave a howling shriek, and fell headlong from the wall on the outside. "I have shot him," cried Henry, "I have shot him." CHAPTER III. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE BODY.--FLORA'S RECOVERY AND MADNESS.--THE OFFER
OF ASSISTANCE FROM SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. [Illustration]

"He is human!" cried Henry; "I have surely killed him." "It would seem so," said Mr. Marchdale. "Let us now hurry round to the
outside of the wall, and see where he lies." This was at once agreed to, and the whole three of them made what
expedition they could towards a gate which led into a paddock, across
which they hurried, and soon found themselves clear of the garden wall,
so that they could make way towards where they fully expected to find
the body of him who had worn so unearthly an aspect, but who it would be
an excessive relief to find was human. So hurried was the progress they made, that it was scarcely possible to
exchange many words as they went; a kind of breathless anxiety was upon
them, and in the speed they disregarded every obstacle, which would, at
any other time, have probably prevented them from taking the direct road
they sought. It was difficult on the outside of the wall to say exactly which was the
precise spot which it might be supposed the body had fallen on; but, by
following the wall in its entire length, surely they would come upon it. They did so; but, to their surprise, they got from its commencement to
its further extremity without finding any dead body, or even any
symptoms of one having lain there. At some parts close to the wall there grew a kind of heath, and,
consequently, the traces of blood would be lost among it, if it so
happened that at the precise spot at which the strange being had seemed
to topple over, such vegetation had existed. This was to be ascertained;
but now, after traversing the whole length of the wall twice, they came
to a halt, and looked wonderingly in each other's faces. "There is nothing here," said Harry. "Nothing," added his brother. "It could not have been a delusion," at length said Mr. Marchdale, with
a shudder. "A delusion?" exclaimed the brother! "That is not possible; we all saw
it." "Then what terrible explanation can we give?" "By heavens! I know not," exclaimed Henry. "This adventure surpasses all
belief, and but for the great interest we have in it, I should regard it
with a world of curiosity." "It is too dreadful," said George; "for God's sake, Henry, let us return
to ascertain if poor Flora is killed." "My senses," said Henry, "were all so much absorbed in gazing at that
horrible form, that I never once looked towards her further than to see
that she was, to appearance, dead. God help her! poor--poor, beautiful
Flora. This is, indeed, a sad, sad fate for you to come to. Flora--Flora--"

"Do not weep, Henry," said George. "Rather let us now hasten home, where
we may find that tears are premature. She may yet be living and restored
to us." "And," said Mr. Marchdale, "she may be able to give us some account of
this dreadful visitation." "True--true," exclaimed Henry; "we will hasten home." They now turned their steps homeward, and as they went they much blamed
themselves for all leaving home together, and with terror pictured what
might occur in their absence to those who were now totally unprotected. "It was a rash impulse of us all to come in pursuit of this dreadful
figure," remarked Mr. Marchdale; "but do not torment yourself, Henry. There may be no reason for your fears." At the pace they went, they very soon reached the ancient house, and
when they came in sight of it, they saw lights flashing from the
windows, and the shadows of faces moving to and fro, indicating that the
whole household was up, and in a state of alarm. Henry, after some trouble, got the hall door opened by a terrified
servant, who was trembling so much that she could scarcely hold the
light she had with her. "Speak at once, Martha," said Henry. "Is Flora living?" "Yes; but--"

"Enough--enough! Thank God she lives; where is she now?" "In her own room, Master Henry. Oh, dear--oh, dear, what will become of
us all?" Henry rushed up the staircase, followed by George and Mr. Marchdale, nor
paused he once until he reached the room of his sister. "Mother," he said, before he crossed the threshold, "are you here?" "I am, my dear--I am. Come in, pray come in, and speak to poor Flora." "Come in, Mr. Marchdale," said Henry--"come in; we make no stranger of
you." They all then entered the room.