His own sudden action and exhibition of energy had served to disperse
it temporarily, yet he felt convinced--the indications were not lacking
even while he sat there making notes--that it still remained near to
him, conditionally if not spatially, and was, as it were, gathering
force for a second attack. And, further, he intuitively understood that the relations between the
two animals had undergone a subtle change: that the cat had become
immeasurably superior, confident, sure of itself in its own peculiar
region, whereas Flame had been weakened by an attack he could not
comprehend and knew not how to reply to. Though not yet afraid, he was
defiant--ready to act against a fear that he felt to be approaching. He
was no longer fatherly and protective towards the cat. Smoke held the
key to the situation; and both he and the cat knew it. Thus, as the minutes passed, John Silence sat and waited, keenly on
the alert, wondering how soon the attack would be renewed, and at what
point it would be diverted from the animals and directed upon himself. The book lay on the floor beside him, his notes were complete. With one
hand on the cat’s fur, and the dog’s front paws resting against his
feet, the three of them dozed comfortably before the hot fire while the
night wore on and the silence deepened towards midnight. It was well after one o’clock in the morning when Dr. Silence turned
the lamp out and lighted the candle preparatory to going up to bed. Then Smoke suddenly woke with a loud sharp purr and sat up. It neither
stretched, washed nor turned: it listened. And the doctor, watching it,
realised that a certain indefinable change had come about that very
moment in the room. A swift readjustment of the forces within the four
walls had taken place--a new disposition of their personal equations. The balance was destroyed, the former harmony gone. Smoke, most
sensitive of barometers, had been the first to feel it, but the dog was
not slow to follow suit, for on looking down he noted that Flame was no
longer asleep. He was lying with eyes wide open, and that same instant
he sat up on his great haunches and began to growl. Dr. Silence was in the act of taking the matches to re-light the lamp
when an audible movement in the room behind made him pause. Smoke
leaped down from his knee and moved forward a few paces across the
carpet. Then it stopped and stared fixedly; and the doctor stood up on
the rug to watch. As he rose the sound was repeated, and he discovered that it was not
in the room as he first thought, but outside, and that it came from
more directions than one. There was a rushing, sweeping noise against
the window-panes, and simultaneously a sound of something brushing
against the door--out in the hall. Smoke advanced sedately across the
carpet, twitching his tail, and sat down within a foot of the door. The
influence that had destroyed the harmonious conditions of the room had
apparently moved in advance of its cause. Clearly, something was about
to happen. For the first time that night John Silence hesitated; the thought of
that dark narrow hall-way, choked with fog, and destitute of human
comfort, was unpleasant. He became aware of a faint creeping of his
flesh. He knew, of course, that the actual opening of the door was not
necessary to the invasion of the room that was about to take place,
since neither doors nor windows, nor any other solid barriers could
interpose an obstacle to what was seeking entrance. Yet the opening of
the door would be significant and symbolic, and he distinctly shrank
from it. But for a moment only. Smoke, turning with a show of impatience,
recalled him to his purpose, and he moved past the sitting, watching
creature, and deliberately opened the door to its full width. What subsequently happened, happened in the feeble and flickering light
of the solitary candle on the mantelpiece. Through the opened door he saw the hall, dimly lit and thick with fog. Nothing, of course, was visible--nothing but the hat-stand, the African
spears in dark lines upon the wall and the high-backed wooden chair
standing grotesquely underneath on the oilcloth floor. For one instant
the fog seemed to move and thicken oddly; but he set that down to the
score of the imagination. The door had opened upon nothing. Yet Smoke apparently thought otherwise, and the deep growling of the
collie from the mat at the back of the room seemed to confirm his
judgment. For, proud and self-possessed, the cat had again risen to his feet,
and having advanced to the door, was now ushering some one slowly into
the room. Nothing could have been more evident. He paced from side to
side, bowing his little head with great _empressement_ and holding his
stiffened tail aloft like a flagstaff. He turned this way and that,
mincing to and fro, and showing signs of supreme satisfaction. He was
in his element. He welcomed the intrusion, and apparently reckoned that
his companions, the doctor and the dog, would welcome it likewise. The Intruder had returned for a second attack. Dr. Silence moved slowly backwards and took up his position on the
hearthrug, keying himself up to a condition of concentrated attention. He noted that Flame stood beside him, facing the room, with body
motionless, and head moving swiftly from side to side with a curious
swaying movement. His eyes were wide open, his back rigid, his neck and
jaws thrust forward, his legs tense and ready to leap. Savage, ready
for attack or defence, yet dreadfully puzzled and perhaps already a
little cowed, he stood and stared, the hair on his spine and sides
positively bristling outwards as though a wind played through them. In
the dim firelight he looked like a great yellow-haired wolf, silent,
eyes shooting dark fire, exceedingly formidable. It was Flame, the
terrible. Smoke, meanwhile, advanced from the door towards the middle of the
room, adopting the very slow pace of an invisible companion. A few
feet away it stopped and began to smile and blink its eyes. There
was something deliberately coaxing in its attitude as it stood there
undecided on the carpet, clearly wishing to effect some sort of
introduction between the Intruder and its canine friend and ally. It assumed its most winning manners, purring, smiling, looking
persuasively from one to the other, and making quick tentative steps
first in one direction and then in the other. There had always existed
such perfect understanding between them in everything. Surely Flame
would appreciate Smoke’s intentions now, and acquiesce. But the old collie made no advances. He bared his teeth, lifting
his lips till the gums showed, and stood stockstill with fixed eyes
and heaving sides. The doctor moved a little farther back, watching
intently the smallest movement, and it was just then he divined
suddenly from the cat’s behaviour and attitude that it was not only a
single companion it had ushered into the room, but _several_. It kept
crossing over from one to the other, looking up at each in turn.