Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (297 page)

bits
of a
nightmare.
There
were
great
black
things
rolling
about,
just
wiping everything
out.
Not
like
anything
you've
ever
seen.
You
couldn't
give them
a
shape."

Here
Mr.
Strenberry
leaned
further
forward
still,
grasped
my
coat-sleeve,
and
lowered
his
voice.

"They
weren't
beasts
or
huge
insects
even,"
he
whispered.
"They weren't
anything
you
could
put
a
name
to.
I
don't
believe
they
belonged
to
this
world
at
all.
And
something
he
thought
rather
suggested
that
too.
They
came
from
some
other
place,
from
another planet
perhaps.
Don't
you
see,
it
was
all
finished
here.
They
were
blotting
it
out,
great
rolling
black
things—oh,
horrible!
Just
imagine
what he
felt,
this
man,
who
had
just
managed
to
escape
from
them,
but now
couldn't
get
out,
into
this
world
and
time
of
ours.
Because
he couldn't,
that
was
the
awful
thing.
He
tried
and
tried,
but
it
couldn't be
done.
And
he
hadn't
long
to
try
either,
I
knew
that.
Because
of what
was
happening
at
the
other
end,
you
see.
I
tell
you,
I
stood
there, looking
at
him,
with
his
thoughts
buzzing
round
my
own
head,
and the
sweat
was
streaming
down
my
face.
I
was
terrified
too,
in
a
panic. And
then
he
was
in
an
agony
of
fear,
and
so
was
I.
It
was
all
up.
The inside
of
that
column
of
air
began
revolving
again,
just
as
it
had
done when
it
first
came,
and
then
I
couldn't
see
him
distinctly.
Only
his eyes.
Just
those
eyes,
staring
out
of
the
swirl.
And
then,
I
saw
something.
I
swear
I
did.
Something
black.
Just
a
glimpse.
That's
all.
A
bit of
one
of
those
things,
getting
hold
of
him—the
last
man
left.
That's
what
it
must
have
been,
though
how
I
came
to
see
it,
I
don't
quite
know,
but
I've
worked
it
out
this
way
and
that
way,
and
it
seems
to
me
         
"

"A-ha,
who
have
we
here?"
cried
a
loud,
cheerful
voice.
"How's things,
Mr.
Strenberry?"

Two
red-faced
men
had
just
entered
the
room.
They
grinned
at
my companion,
then
winked
at
one
another.

"A
nasty
day,
Mr.
Strenberry,"
said
the
other
fellow.
"What
do
you say?"

Mr.
Strenberry,
who
appeared
to
have
crumpled
up
at
their
approach,
merely
muttered
something
in
reply.
Then,
giving
me
a
hasty glance,
in
which
shame
and
despair
and
scorn
were
mingled,
he
suddenly
rose
and
shuffled
out
of
the
room.

The
two
newcomers
looked
at
one
another,
laughed,
and
then
settled
into
their
comer.
The
landlady
appeared
with
their
drinks.
I stood
up
and
looked
out
of
the
window.
The
downpour
had
dwindled to
a
few
scattered
drops,
brightening
in
the
sunlight.