And, but for the character of our leader, I
probably should have then and there offered the best excuse I could
think of, and have allowed myself quietly to fall asleep and wait for
an exciting story in the morning of what had happened. But with a man
like John Silence, such a lapse was out of the question, and I sat
before my fire counting the minutes and doing everything I could think
of to fortify my resolution and fasten my will at the point where I
could be reasonably sure that my self-control would hold against all
attacks of men, devils, or elementals. III

At a quarter before midnight, clad in a heavy ulster, and with
slippered feet, I crept cautiously from my room and stole down the
passage to the top of the stairs. Outside the doctor’s door I waited
a moment to listen. All was still; the house in utter darkness; no
gleam of light beneath any door; only, down the length of the corridor,
from the direction of the sick-room, came faint sounds of laughter
and incoherent talk that were not things to reassure a mind already
half a-tremble, and I made haste to reach the hall and let myself out
through the front door into the night. The air was keen and frosty, perfumed with night smells, and
exquisitely fresh; all the million candles of the sky were alight, and
a faint breeze rose and fell with far-away sighings in the tops of the
pine trees. My blood leaped for a moment in the spaciousness of the
night, for the splendid stars brought courage; but the next instant,
as I turned the corner of the house, moving stealthily down the gravel
drive, my spirits sank again ominously. For, yonder, over the funereal
plumes of the Twelve Acre Plantation, I saw the huge and yellow face
of the full moon just rising in the east, staring down like some vast
Being come to watch upon the progress of our doom. Seen through the
distorting vapours of the earth’s atmosphere, her face looked weirdly
unfamiliar, her usual expression of benignant vacancy somehow a-twist. I slipped along by the shadows of the wall, keeping my eyes upon the
ground. The laundry-house, as already described, stood detached from the other
offices, with laurel shrubberies crowding thickly behind it, and the
kitchen-garden so close on the other side that the strong smells of
soil and growing things came across almost heavily. The shadows of the
haunted plantation, hugely lengthened by the rising moon behind them,
reached to the very walls and covered the stone tiles of the roof with
a dark pall. So keenly were my senses alert at this moment that I
believe I could fill a chapter with the endless small details of the
impression I received--shadows, odour, shapes, sounds--in the space of
the few seconds I stood and waited before the closed wooden door. Then I became aware of some one moving towards me through the
moonlight, and the figure of John Silence, without overcoat and
bareheaded, came quickly and without noise to join me. His eyes, I saw
at once, were wonderfully bright, and so marked was the shining pallor
of his face that I could hardly tell when he passed from the moonlight
into the shade. He passed without a word, beckoning me to follow, and then pushed the
door open, and went in. The chill air of the place met us like that of an underground vault;
and the brick floor and whitewashed walls, streaked with damp and
smoke, threw back the cold in our faces. Directly opposite gaped the
black throat of the huge open fireplace, the ashes of wood fires
still piled and scattered about the hearth, and on either side of
the projecting chimney-column were the deep recesses holding the big
twin cauldrons for boiling clothes. Upon the lids of these cauldrons
stood the two little oil lamps, shaded red, which gave all the light
there was, and immediately in front of the fireplace there was a small
circular table with three chairs set about it. Overhead, the narrow
slit windows, high up the walls, pointed to a dim network of wooden
rafters half lost among the shadows, and then came the dark vault of
the roof. Cheerless and unalluring, for all the red light, it certainly
was, reminding me of some unused conventicle, bare of pews or pulpit,
ugly and severe, and I was forcibly struck by the contrast between the
normal uses to which the place was ordinarily put, and the strange and
mediæval purpose which had brought us under its roof to-night. Possibly an involuntary shudder ran over me, for my companion turned
with a confident look to reassure me, and he was so completely master
of himself that I at once absorbed from his abundance, and felt the
chinks of my failing courage beginning to close up. To meet his eye in
the presence of danger was like finding a mental railing that guided
and supported thought along the giddy edges of alarm. “I am quite ready,” I whispered, turning to listen for approaching
footsteps. He nodded, still keeping his eyes on mine. Our whispers sounded hollow
as they echoed overhead among the rafters. “I’m glad you are here,” he said. “Not all would have the courage. Keep your thoughts controlled, and imagine the protective shell round
you--round your _inner_ being.”

“I’m all right,” I repeated, cursing my chattering teeth. He took my hand and shook it, and the contact seemed to shake into me
something of his supreme confidence. The eyes and hands of a strong man
can touch the soul. I think he guessed my thought, for a passing smile
flashed about the corners of his mouth. “You will feel more comfortable,” he said, in a low tone, “when
the chain is complete. The Colonel we can count on, of course. Remember, though,” he added warningly, “he may perhaps become
controlled--possessed--when the thing comes, because he won’t know how
to resist. And to explain the business to such a man----!” He shrugged
his shoulders expressively. “But it will only be temporary, and I will
see that no harm comes to him.”

He glanced round at the arrangements with approval. “Red light,” he said, indicating the shaded lamps, “has the lowest rate
of vibration. Materialisations are dissipated by strong light--won’t
form, or hold together--in rapid vibrations.”

I was not sure that I approved altogether of this dim light, for in
complete darkness there is something protective--the knowledge that one
cannot be seen, probably--which a half-light destroys, but I remembered
the warning to keep my thoughts steady, and forbore to give them
expression. There was a step outside, and the figure of Colonel Wragge stood in the
doorway. Though entering on tiptoe, he made considerable noise and
clatter, for his free movements were impeded by the burden he carried,
and we saw a large yellowish bowl held out at arms’ length from his
body, the mouth covered with a white cloth. His face, I noted, was
rigidly composed. He, too, was master of himself.