Silence selected with
care and judgment. He believed (and had already made curious
experiments to prove it) that animals were more often, and more truly,
clairvoyant than human beings. Many of them, he felt convinced,
possessed powers of perception far superior to that mere keenness of
the senses common to all dwellers in the wilds where the senses grow
specially alert; they had what he termed “animal clairvoyance,” and
from his experiments with horses, dogs, cats, and even birds, he had
drawn certain deductions, which, however, need not be referred to in
detail here. Cats, in particular, he believed, were almost continuously conscious of
a larger field of vision, too detailed even for a photographic camera,
and quite beyond the reach of normal human organs. He had, further,
observed that while dogs were usually terrified in the presence of such
phenomena, cats on the other hand were soothed and satisfied. They
welcomed manifestations as something belonging peculiarly to their own
region. He selected his animals, therefore, with wisdom so that they might
afford a differing test, each in its own way, and that one should not
merely communicate its own excitement to the other. He took a dog and a
cat. The cat he chose, now full grown, had lived with him since kittenhood,
a kittenhood of perplexing sweetness and audacious mischief. Wayward it
was and fanciful, ever playing its own mysterious games in the corners
of the room, jumping at invisible nothings, leaping sideways into the
air and falling with tiny moccasined feet on to another part of the
carpet, yet with an air of dignified earnestness which showed that the
performance was necessary to its own well-being, and not done merely to
impress a stupid human audience. In the middle of elaborate washing it
would look up, startled, as though to stare at the approach of some
Invisible, cocking its little head sideways and putting out a velvet
pad to inspect cautiously. Then it would get absent-minded, and stare
with equal intentness in another direction (just to confuse the
onlookers), and suddenly go on furiously washing its body again, but in
quite a new place. Except for a white patch on its breast it was coal
black. And its name was—Smoke. “Smoke” described its temperament as well as its appearance. Its
movements, its individuality, its posing as a little furry mass of
concealed mysteries, its elfin-like elusiveness, all combined to
justify its name; and a subtle painter might have pictured it as a wisp
of floating smoke, the fire below betraying itself at two points
only—the glowing eyes. All its forces ran to intelligence—secret intelligence, the wordless
incalculable intuition of the Cat. It was, indeed, _the_ cat for the
business in hand. The selection of the dog was not so simple, for the doctor owned many;
but after much deliberation he chose a collie, called Flame from his
yellow coat. True, it was a trifle old, and stiff in the joints, and
even beginning to grow deaf, but, on the other hand, it was a very
particular friend of Smoke’s, and had fathered it from kittenhood
upwards so that a subtle understanding existed between them. It was
this that turned the balance in its favour, this and its courage. Moreover, though good-tempered, it was a terrible fighter, and its
anger when provoked by a righteous cause was a fury of fire, and
irresistible. It had come to him quite young, straight from the shepherd, with the
air of the hills yet in its nostrils, and was then little more than
skin and bones and teeth. For a collie it was sturdily built, its nose
blunter than most, its yellow hair stiff rather than silky, and it had
full eyes, unlike the slit eyes of its breed. Only its master could
touch it, for it ignored strangers, and despised their pattings—when
any dared to pat it. There was something patriarchal about the old
beast. He was in earnest, and went through life with tremendous energy
and big things in view, as though he had the reputation of his whole
race to uphold. And to watch him fighting against odds was to
understand why he was terrible. In his relations with Smoke he was always absurdly gentle; also he was
fatherly; and at the same time betrayed a certain diffidence or
shyness. He recognised that Smoke called for strong yet respectful
management. The cat’s circuitous methods puzzled him, and his elaborate
pretences perhaps shocked the dog’s liking for direct, undisguised
action. Yet, while he failed to comprehend these tortuous feline
mysteries, he was never contemptuous or condescending; and he presided
over the safety of his furry black friend somewhat as a father, loving,
but intuitive, might superintend the vagaries of a wayward and talented
child. And, in return, Smoke rewarded him with exhibitions of
fascinating and audacious mischief. And these brief descriptions of their characters are necessary for the
proper understanding of what subsequently took place. With Smoke sleeping in the folds of his fur coat, and the collie lying
watchful on the seat opposite, John Silence went down in his motor
after dinner on the night of November 15th. And the fog was so dense that they were obliged to travel at quarter
speed the entire way. It was after ten o’clock when he dismissed the motor and entered the
dingy little house with the latchkey provided by Pender. He found the
hall gas turned low, and a fire in the study. Books and food had also
been placed ready by the servant according to instructions. Coils of
fog rushed in after him through the open door and filled the hall and
passage with its cold discomfort. The first thing Dr. Silence did was to lock up Smoke in the study with
a saucer of milk before the fire, and then make a search of the house
with Flame. The dog ran cheerfully behind him all the way while he
tried the doors of the other rooms to make sure they were locked. He
nosed about into corners and made little excursions on his own account. His manner was expectant. He knew there must be something unusual about
the proceeding, because it was contrary to the habits of his whole life
not to be asleep at this hour on the mat in front of the fire. He kept
looking up into his master’s face, as door after door was tried, with
an expression of intelligent sympathy, but at the same time a certain
air of disapproval. Yet everything his master did was good in his eyes,
and he betrayed as little impatience as possible with all this
unnecessary journeying to and fro. If the doctor was pleased to play
this sort of game at such an hour of the night, it was surely not for
him to object. So he played it, too; and was very busy and earnest
about it into the bargain. After an uneventful search they came down again to the study, and here
Dr. Silence discovered Smoke washing his face calmly in front of the
fire. The saucer of milk was licked dry and clean; the preliminary
examination that cats always make in new surroundings had evidently
been satisfactorily concluded.