Before, however, he could strike it, the rat, with a squeak
that sounded like the concentration of hate, jumped upon the floor,
and, running up the rope of the alarm bell, disappeared in the darkness
beyond the range of the green-shaded lamp. Instantly, strange to say,
the noisy scampering of the rats in the wainscot began again. By this time Malcolmson’s mind was quite off the problem; and as a
shrill cock-crow outside told him of the approach of morning, he went
to bed and to sleep. He slept so sound that he was not even waked by Mrs. Dempster coming in
to make up his room. It was only when she had tidied up the place and
got his breakfast ready and tapped on the screen which closed in his
bed that he woke. He was a little tired still after his night’s hard
work, but a strong cup of tea soon freshened him up and, taking his
book, he went out for his morning walk, bringing with him a few
sandwiches lest he should not care to return till dinner time. He found
a quiet walk between high elms some way outside the town, and here he
spent the greater part of the day studying his Laplace. On his return
he looked in to see Mrs. Witham and to thank her for her kindness. When
she saw him coming through the diamond-paned bay window of her sanctum
she came out to meet him and asked him in. She looked at him
searchingly and shook her head as she said:

“You must not overdo it, sir. You are paler this morning than you
should be. Too late hours and too hard work on the brain isn’t good for
any man! But tell me, sir, how did you pass the night? Well, I hope? But my heart! sir, I was glad when Mrs. Dempster told me this morning
that you were all right and sleeping sound when she went in.”

“Oh, I was all right,” he answered smiling, “the ‘somethings’ didn’t
worry me, as yet. Only the rats; and they had a circus, I tell you, all
over the place. There was one wicked looking old devil that sat up on
my own chair by the fire, and wouldn’t go till I took the poker to him,
and then he ran up the rope of the alarm bell and got to somewhere up
the wall or the ceiling—I couldn’t see where, it was so dark.”

“Mercy on us,” said Mrs. Witham, “an old devil, and sitting on a chair
by the fireside! Take care, sir! take care! There’s many a true word
spoken in jest.”

“How do you mean? Pon my word I don’t understand.”

“An old devil! The old devil, perhaps. There! sir, you needn’t laugh,”
for Malcolmson had broken into a hearty peal. “You young folks thinks
it easy to laugh at things that makes older ones shudder. Never mind,
sir! never mind! Please God, you’ll laugh all the time. It’s what I
wish you myself!” and the good lady beamed all over in sympathy with
his enjoyment, her fears gone for a moment. “Oh, forgive me!” said Malcolmson presently. “Don’t think me rude; but
the idea was too much for me—that the old devil himself was on the
chair last night!” And at the thought he laughed again. Then he went
home to dinner. This evening the scampering of the rats began earlier; indeed it had
been going on before his arrival, and only ceased whilst his presence
by its freshness disturbed them. After dinner he sat by the fire for a
while and had a smoke; and then, having cleared his table, began to
work as before. Tonight the rats disturbed him more than they had done
on the previous night. How they scampered up and down and under and
over! How they squeaked, and scratched, and gnawed! How they, getting
bolder by degrees, came to the mouths of their holes and to the chinks
and cracks and crannies in the wainscoting till their eyes shone like
tiny lamps as the firelight rose and fell. But to him, now doubtless
accustomed to them, their eyes were not wicked; only their playfulness
touched him. Sometimes the boldest of them made sallies out on the
floor or along the mouldings of the wainscot. Now and again as they
disturbed him Malcolmson made a sound to frighten them, smiting the
table with his hand or giving a fierce “Hsh, hsh,” so that they fled
straightway to their holes. And so the early part of the night wore on; and despite the noise
Malcolmson got more and more immersed in his work. All at once he stopped, as on the previous night, being overcome by a
sudden sense of silence. There was not the faintest sound of gnaw, or
scratch, or squeak. The silence was as of the grave. He remembered the
odd occurrence of the previous night, and instinctively he looked at
the chair standing close by the fireside. And then a very odd sensation
thrilled through him. There, on the great old high-backed carved oak chair beside the
fireplace sat the same enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with
baleful eyes. Instinctively he took the nearest thing to his hand, a book of
logarithms, and flung it at it. The book was badly aimed and the rat
did not stir, so again the poker performance of the previous night was
repeated; and again the rat, being closely pursued, fled up the rope of
the alarm bell. Strangely too, the departure of this rat was instantly
followed by the renewal of the noise made by the general rat community. On this occasion, as on the previous one, Malcolmson could not see at
what part of the room the rat disappeared, for the green shade of his
lamp left the upper part of the room in darkness, and the fire had
burned low. On looking at his watch he found it was close on midnight; and, not
sorry for the _divertissement_, he made up his fire and made himself
his nightly pot of tea. He had got through a good spell of work, and
thought himself entitled to a cigarette; and so he sat on the great oak
chair before the fire and enjoyed it. Whilst smoking he began to think
that he would like to know where the rat disappeared to, for he had
certain ideas for the morrow not entirely disconnected with a rat-trap. Accordingly he lit another lamp and placed it so that it would shine
well into the right-hand corner of the wall by the fireplace. Then he
got all the books he had with him, and placed them handy to throw at
the vermin. Finally he lifted the rope of the alarm bell and placed the
end of it on the table, fixing the extreme end under the lamp. As he
handled it he could not help noticing how pliable it was, especially
for so strong a rope, and one not in use. “You could hang a man with
it,” he thought to himself. When his preparations were made he looked
around, and said complacently:

“There now, my friend, I think we shall learn something of you this
time!” He began his work again, and though as before somewhat disturbed
at first by the noise of the rats, soon lost himself in his
propositions and problems. Again he was called to his immediate surroundings suddenly. This time
it might not have been the sudden silence only which took his
attention; there was a slight movement of the rope, and the lamp moved. Without stirring, he looked to see if his pile of books was within
range, and then cast his eye along the rope.