She was puzzled. Very rarely did she wake in the night. Something must have woken her. Perhaps it was the excitement of losing her virginity. She felt her desires welling up again at the very thought. Her hand delved low and touched Gavin. His limpness excited her as much as his hardness had done. He stirred. She snatched her hand away feeling guilty.

Outside, the breeze rustled softly through the spike-grass. Then she heard something else. She could not place the sound. It was louder than the sighing of the wind, harsher too, like an asthmatic wheeze magnified a hundred times.

As she listened, it came closer. Now it was directly outside the boarding which covered the slotted windows and the doorway. Harsh and unreal, reminding her of the snuffling of some wild beast in search of prey.

Suddenly she was afraid. There was something outside. Something or someone was looking for a way in!

'Gavin! Gavin!' There was an urgency in her whisper. 'Wake up. There's something prowling round the blockhouse!'

He sat up. The sound came again. Laboured stentorian breathing. But there was something else. Something which sent shivers down his spine without any logical explanation.

The noise reminded him of something wet and slippery being forcibly dragged across terra firma, pausing every so often to rest as though the effort was too great.

Their nostrils twitched. The scent of the saltings which had been with them since their arrival was now masked by a far more powerful aroma. The cloying putrifying stench was only too familiar ...

'It's ... it's .. .' Liz choked and heaved and clung tightly to Gavin.

'Yes,' he breathed. 'That foul smell from the pit—the Slime Beast!'

'It can't be that foul thing out there...'

Gavin did not answer. He did not dare. How could that loathsome creature have risen from its marshy grave to prowl the saltings? Yet it had not been dead! They all knew that. It had been breathing. Therefore it was still alive. So why should it be incapable of movement? That was logic. All the same it didn't bear thinking about

The slithering stopped. The beast was outside the planking which served as an improvised door. A scratching sound—it had found the entrance, a flimsy structure which would be no match against sheer physical power. Liz felt the panic surging up inside her. Something splintered.

Gavin leapt out of the sleeping-bag. He wished he had a gun but it would probably have been useless. Nothing would penetrate that slime-covered, armour-plating. He found Liz's torch and switched it on, sweeping the beam round the small enclosure.

A weapon! He must repel this loathesome creature. Then an idea filtered through his fear-crazed brain. He saw the box of matches and the three-day-old newspaper. Fire! The scourge of all beasts of the wild.

Swiftly he opened the paper and rolled it into the shape of a giant spill, but as he did so there was a loud crack and further splintering of wood. He fumbled for a match and the flame caught, licking hungrily with each second.

The draught in the corridor fanned the fire and the flames filled everywhere with their golden glow, casting eerie shadows. He forced himself to look at the door. Pieces of broken wood lay inside on the concrete and something glinted in the jagged hole: a shimmering of greyish-green slime on a webbed claw which was already snapping off another length of wood.

For a second Gavin stood as though transfixed. Every movement in his body seemed to have been halted by some invisible force. He had read of people being paralysed by fear. He had never believed it... until now!

The flame wafted back towards him. He felt the heat on his face. He stepped back. He could move again.

Another chunk of wood bounced on the floor. Gavin leapt forward. There was no time to lose,

The gap was larger now. Something was thrusting itself inside. A head. Squashed scaly features, bared reptilian lips, gaping quivering nostrils, eyes glinting evilly, reflecting the light from the dancing flame.

The stench was overpowering. Gavin retched even as he threw the burning newspaper into the face of the fiend. He staggered back narrowly missing a blow from that mighty claw which would have meant instant death had it connected He stumbled and fell hi a heap on the floor.

A wild unearthly scream of rage and fear filled the night air. A thousand souls hi the torments of hell could not have sounded more terrible. It seared his mind. He wanted to scream as well. Liz was already screaming.

Then suddenly there was silence for a few seconds. Nothing moved. Shambling slithering footsteps faded away across the marsh,

'What's going on?'

The beam from the torch blinded him but he recognised the Professor's voice. Gavin struggled to his feet Liz appeared on the scene also and flashed her own torch revealing her uncle, hair awry, clad hi shirt and long pants.

Gavin fought to remain calm. 'We've had a visitor, but he's gone now. It was the Slime Beast."

'Nonsense, you've been dreaming. . .'

'Just look at that then I' Gavin pointed to the splintered wood on the floor and the jagged hole in the door which was still dripping with foul-smelling slime. 'Can't you smell it, Professor?'

Lowson nodded dumbly.

'Well it's on the loose.' Gavin retorted, 'and we're responsible. We freed it from the mud. We must report it first thing tomorrow morning!'

'Oh yes,' Professor Lowson's tone was laced with sarcasm, 'and subject ourselves to ridicule. It might never be seen again. Then we should look fools in the eyes of the public. I think we agreed among ourselves that we should devote tomorrow to researching it. Then, in the light of our discoveries, we can determine our next course of action.'

'I suppose you're right,' Gavin began pulling on some jeans and attempted to make it look as though he had come out of his own room to repel the Slime Beast. 'There's one thing we must remember though. This beast is highly dangerous. Whatever the outcome of our research it has got to be destroyed. It's a menace to mankind!'

THEY slept badly for the rest of the night Gavin knew well that his improvised repairs to the door of the blockhouse were not enough against the Slime Beast should it return. However it could not enter without making a noise and Gavin was relying on sufficient warning to enable him to use the burning paper again.

After the Professor had returned to his quarters Gavin and Liz went back to their sleeping-bag.

'It's too horrible for words,' Liz sobbed, pressing her body close to his. 'I mean it's all very well Uncle Jack wanting to keep it a secret, but we can't keep quiet about a monster like that on the rampage.'

'We'll have to for the moment,' Gavin replied. 'If we go and tell the authorities that this thing's on the loose without proof of its existence they'll put us in the nut-house for a spell! '

All three of them were up soon after dawn. Liz prepared a breakfast of bacon, beans and coffee after which they felt considerably better.

Professor Lowson stuffed tobacoo into his pipe. 'Well, we can't make a move before nine o'clock. The tide doesn't turn until eight and we shan't be able to cross the big creek on to the other side of the saltings until then.'

It seemed a long wait. The Professor retired to his stuffy compartment, rummaging through books and papers. Gavin and Liz sat on the spartina grass outside the blockhouse and watched the sun come up.

'I wish we didn't have to go back to that awful hole.' Liz squeezed his hand as she spoke. 'Right now I'd like to pack everything up and go home. I don't ever want to see this horrible place again.'

'Don't worry,' Gavin tried to reassure her. 'Maybe as soon as your uncle's carried out an examination on the ' Slime Beast we'll be moving off. I guess poor old King John's treasure will take a back seat for a while.'