We ate
hugely, because of the _Jolly Nancy_ making us so hungry.
When we'd finished we went into Father's study, where he wasn't, and
turned on the desk-light and got at the letter. I read it, while the
boys crouched about expectantly. Here it is:
_Dear Comrades_:
I should have answered your frantic appeals for news of me
long since, had I not been slavishly occupied in carrying out
the demands of the Man of Torture from whom I am now
completely released, praises be. I am even contemplating
escape from Bluar Boor by stealth. But no doubt you have no
desire for these modern details and are all agog to find out
whether or not I met a wretched death at the bottom of the
sea. I think you left me--or I left you--with a soft and
hideous something resting upon my shoulder.
Sirs, it was a Hand, a webbed hand, and turning, I looked
straight down into another pair of flat dark eyes. They
belonged to a creature not as tall as I, and certainly not
human in shape. Arms and legs it had, of a sort, and scales,
also, and finny spines, and a soft slimy body. Then, through
the door which led to the silver street, I saw more of the
creatures, and more,--a soft, hurrying crowd patting over the
ingot blocks which paved the road, peering in at the door,
beckoning with webby fingers.
My helmet smothered the cry I gave as I struggled against the
horrible resistance of the water toward the door.
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