“And you have
it still, this hair?” he asked. “It disappeared in the oddest way,” the Colonel explained. “It was
curious looking stuff, something like asbestos, and I sent it to be
analysed by the local chemist. But either the man got wind of its
origin, or else he didn’t like the look of it for some reason, because
he returned it to me and said it was neither animal, vegetable, nor
mineral, so far as he could make out, and he didn’t wish to have
anything to do with it. I put it away in paper, but a week later, on
opening the package--it was gone! Oh, the stories are simply endless. I
could tell you hundreds all on the same lines.”

“And personal experiences of your own, Colonel Wragge?” asked John
Silence earnestly, his manner showing the greatest possible interest
and sympathy. The soldier gave an almost imperceptible start. He looked distinctly
uncomfortable. “Nothing, I think,” he said slowly, “nothing--er--I should like to rely
on. I mean nothing I have the right to speak of, perhaps--yet.”

His mouth closed with a snap. Dr. Silence, after waiting a little to
see if he would add to his reply, did not seek to press him on the
point. “Well,” he resumed presently, and as though he would speak
contemptuously, yet dared not, “this sort of thing has gone on at
intervals ever since. It spreads like wildfire, of course, mysterious
chatter of this kind, and people began trespassing all over the estate,
coming to see the wood, and making themselves a general nuisance. Notices of man-traps and spring-guns only seemed to increase their
persistence; and--think of it,” he snorted, “some local Research
Society actually wrote and asked permission for one of their members
to spend a night in the wood! Bolder fools, who didn’t write for
leave, came and took away bits of bark from the trees and gave them
to clairvoyants, who invented in their turn a further batch of tales. There was simply no end to it all.”

“Most distressing and annoying, I can well believe,” interposed the
doctor. “Then suddenly the phenomena ceased as mysteriously as they had begun,
and the interest flagged. The tales stopped. People got interested in
something else. It all seemed to die out. This was last July. I can
tell you exactly, for I’ve kept a diary more or less of what happened.”

“Ah!”

“But now, quite recently, within the past three weeks, it has all
revived again with a rush--with a kind of furious attack, so to speak. It has really become unbearable. You may imagine what it means, and the
general state of affairs, when I say that the possibility of leaving
has occurred to me.”

“Incendiarism?” suggested Dr. Silence, half under his breath, but not
so low that Colonel Wragge did not hear him. “By Jove, sir, you take the very words out of my mouth!” exclaimed
the astonished man, glancing from the doctor to me and from me to the
doctor, and rattling the money in his pocket as though some explanation
of my friend’s divining powers were to be found that way. “It’s only that you are thinking very vividly,” the doctor said
quietly, “and your thoughts form pictures in my mind before you utter
them. It’s merely a little elementary thought-reading.”

His intention, I saw, was not to perplex the good man, but to impress
him with his powers so as to ensure obedience later. “Good Lord! I had no idea----” He did not finish the sentence, and
dived again abruptly into his narrative. “I did not see anything myself, I must admit, but the stories of
independent eye-witnesses were to the effect that lines of light, like
streams of thin fire, moved through the wood and sometimes were seen
to shoot out precisely as flames might shoot out--in the direction of
this house. There,” he explained, in a louder voice that made me jump,
pointing with a thick finger to the map, “where the westerly fringe of
the plantation comes up to the end of the lower lawn at the back of
the house--where it links on to those dark patches, which are laurel
shrubberies, running right up to the back premises--that’s where these
lights were seen. They passed from the wood to the shrubberies, and
in this way reached the house itself. Like silent rockets, one man
described them, rapid as lightning and exceedingly bright.”

“And this evidence you spoke of?”

“They actually reached the sides of the house. They’ve left a mark of
scorching on the walls--the walls of the laundry building at the other
end. You shall see ’em tomorrow.” He pointed to the map to indicate the
spot, and then straightened himself and glared about the room as though
he had said something no one could believe and expected contradiction. “Scorched--just as the faces were,” the doctor murmured, looking
significantly at me. “Scorched--yes,” repeated the Colonel, failing to catch the rest of the
sentence in his excitement. There was a prolonged silence in the room, in which I heard the
gurgling of the oil in the lamp and the click of the coals and the
heavy breathing of our host. The most unwelcome sensations were
creeping about my spine, and I wondered whether my companion would
scorn me utterly if I asked to sleep on the sofa in his room. It was
eleven o’clock, I saw by the clock on the mantelpiece. We had crossed
the dividing line and were now well in the movement of the adventure. The fight between my interest and my dread became acute. But, even if
turning back had been possible, I think the interest would have easily
gained the day. “I have enemies, of course,” I heard the Colonel’s rough voice break
into the pause presently, “and have discharged a number of servants----”

“It’s not that,” put in John Silence briefly. “You think not? In a sense I am glad, and yet--there are some things
that can be met and dealt with----”

He left the sentence unfinished, and looked down at the floor with
an expression of grim severity that betrayed a momentary glimpse of
character. This fighting man loathed and abhorred the thought of an
enemy he could not see and come to grips with. Presently he moved over
and sat down in the chair between us. Something like a sigh escaped
him. Dr. Silence said nothing. “My sister, of course, is kept in ignorance, as far as possible, of all
this,” he said disconnectedly, and as if talking to himself. “But even
if she knew, she would find matter-of-fact explanations. I only wish I
could. I’m sure they exist.”

There came then an interval in the conversation that was very
significant. It did not seem a real pause, or the silence real silence,
for both men continued to think so rapidly and strongly that one almost
imagined their thoughts clothed themselves in words in the air of the
room. I was more than a little keyed up with the strange excitement
of all I had heard, but what stimulated my nerves more than anything
else was the obvious fact that the doctor was clearly upon the trail of
discovery. In his mind at that moment, I believe, he had already solved
the nature of this perplexing psychical problem.