slowness of movement, an air of detachment—

A hand fell upon her shoulder and she was jerked away from the glass. Immediately, a heavy drape was drawn and the light was gone. And Annie was gone.

I uttered some sound, released my oar, and began to rise.

"Don't even think of it!" Peters snarled. "Yer a dead man if you set foot on her! Emerson, hold 'im if he tries to go overboard!"

And the creature actually did take hold of my collar. It could have weighed no more than I did, but having seen what it could do to a man I knew I should have no chance of escaping.

In a moment I realized that Peters must be right. Dead, I would be of no use to Annie. I slumped. Then I took hold of my oar again.

We rowed on, for some considerable distance. The fog broke and re-knit itself several times, though there was nothing to see but water and a few stars on those occasions when it opened. For a time I wondered whether we might have become lost, rowing in a great circle, or out to sea, or about to run aground. Then the shape of another vessel came into view—as mysterious and formidable-appearing as the first.

"Ahoy!" Peters shouted.

"That you, Peters?" came the response.

"It is, and I've brought company."

"Come alongside," called the other.

We did, and shortly thereafter a rope ladder was cast down near us. Emerson snagged it immediately.

Before we climbed to its deck, I caught sight of the vessel's name: Eidolon.

The man looked frighteningly distinguished, with his dark hair light at the sides, gray mustache neatly trimmed, impressive brow, jawline rugged as he clenched a delicately carved pipe between perfect teeth.

His well-tailored uniform was impeccable. He was tall and slender within it and his smile inspired confidence.