Page:Burton Stevenson--The marathon mystery.djvu/347



T strikes a chill through me, even yet, to recall the awful horror of that instant. The fer-de-lance—death in a few heartbeats, and such a death!—a death that melts a man into an abomination! For a moment, none of us dared move, scarcely dared breathe, and I saw the band of light from Simmonds’s lantern waving uncertainly across the floor, the walls, the ceiling—evidently poor Simmonds did not understand the exact nature of the danger, but only that it was a terrible one. I had a mad impulse to jump, shrieking, for the door, and should probably have done it had that quivering silence endured a moment longer.

“Simmonds, give me your lantern,” said Godfrey, with an admirable calmness. “Lester, have your cane ready.”

He threw a broad band of light upon the carpet, and keeping carefully within this path, approached the door, felt for the electric button, and switched on the lights.

Half-blinded for an instant, we stood staring at each other, at the floor…

“For God’s sake,” gasped Simmonds, mopping the sweat from his face, “what is it?”

“It’s a snake,” said Godfrey tersely. “The deadliest in the world. If you don’t believe me, look