Over and over again I saw this monster slay its
three victims; and always, when that was done, it raised its head and
glared at me, as though selecting me for the fourth.... But I shall
not try to describe those dreams; even yet I cannot recall them
without a shudder.
It was while I was sitting moodily in my room one night, debating
whether or not to go to bed; weary to exhaustion and yet reluctant to
resign myself to a sleep from which I knew I should wake shrieking,
that a knock came at the door--a knock I recognised; and I arose
joyfully to admit Godfrey.
I could see by the way his eyes were shining that he had something
unusual to tell me; and then, as he looked at me, his face changed.
"What's the matter, Lester?" he demanded. "You're looking fagged out.
Working too hard?"
"It's not that," I said. "I can't sleep. This thing has upset my
nerves, Godfrey. I dream about it--have regular nightmares."
He sat down opposite me, concern and anxiety in his face.
"That won't do," he protested. "You must go away somewhere--take a
rest, and a good long one."
"A rest wouldn't do me any good, as long as this mystery is
unsolved," I said. "It's only by working that I can keep my mind off
of it.
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