Every word he uttered was calculated; he knew exactly the value
and effect of the emotions he desired to waken in the heart of the
afflicted being before him. “And from certain knowledge I have gained through various experiences,”
he continued calmly, “I can diagnose your case as I said before to be
one of psychical invasion.”

“And the nature of this--er--invasion?” stammered the bewildered writer
of humorous tales. “There is no reason why I should not say at once that I do not yet
quite know,” replied Dr. Silence. “I may first have to make one or two
experiments----”

“On me?” gasped Pender, catching his breath. “Not exactly,” the doctor said, with a grave smile, “but with your
assistance, perhaps. I shall want to test the conditions of the
house--to ascertain, if possible, the character of the forces, of this
strange personality that has been haunting you----”

“At present you have no idea exactly who--what--why----” asked the
other in a wild flurry of interest, dread and amazement. “I have a very good idea, but no proof rather,” returned the doctor. “The effects of the drug in altering the scale of time and space, and
merging the senses have nothing primarily to do with the invasion. They
come to any one who is fool enough to take an experimental dose. It is
the other features of your case that are unusual. You see, you are now
in touch with certain violent emotions, desires, purposes, still active
in this house, that were produced in the past by some powerful and evil
personality that lived here. How long ago, or why they still persist
so forcibly, I cannot positively say. But I should judge that they are
merely forces acting automatically with the momentum of their terrific
original impetus.”

“Not directed by a living being, a conscious will, you mean?”

“Possibly not--but none the less dangerous on that account, and more
difficult to deal with. I cannot explain to you in a few minutes the
nature of such things, for you have not made the studies that would
enable you to follow me; but I have reason to believe that on the
dissolution at death of a human being, its forces may still persist
and continue to act in a blind, unconscious fashion. As a rule they
speedily dissipate themselves, but in the case of a very powerful
personality they may last a long time. And, in some cases--of which I
incline to think this is one--these forces may coalesce with certain
non-human entities who thus continue their life indefinitely and
increase their strength to an unbelievable degree. If the original
personality was evil, the beings attracted to the left-over forces
will also be evil. In this case, I think there has been an unusual and
dreadful aggrandisement of the thoughts and purposes left behind long
ago by a woman of consummate wickedness and great personal power of
character and intellect. Now, do you begin to see what I am driving at
a little?”

Pender stared fixedly at his companion, plain horror showing in his
eyes. But he found nothing to say, and the doctor continued--

“In your case, predisposed by the action of the drug, you have
experienced the rush of these forces in undiluted strength. They
wholly obliterate in you the sense of humour, fancy, imagination,--all
that makes for cheerfulness and hope. They seek, though perhaps
automatically only, to oust your own thoughts and establish themselves
in their place. You are the victim of a psychical invasion. At the same
time, you have become clairvoyant in the true sense. You are also a
clairvoyant victim.”

Pender mopped his face and sighed. He left his chair and went over to
the fireplace to warm himself. “You must think me a quack to talk like this, or a madman,” laughed
Dr. Silence. “But never mind that. I have come to help you, and I can
help you if you will do what I tell you. It is very simple: you must
leave this house at once. Oh, never mind the difficulties; we will deal
with those together. I can place another house at your disposal, or
I would take the lease here off your hands, and later have it pulled
down. Your case interests me greatly, and I mean to see you through, so
that you have no anxiety, and can drop back into your old groove of
work to-morrow! The drug has provided you, and therefore me, with a
short-cut to a very interesting experience. I am grateful to you.”

The author poked the fire vigorously, emotion rising in him like a
tide. He glanced towards the door nervously. “There is no need to alarm your wife or to tell her the details of
our conversation,” pursued the other quietly. “Let her know that you
will soon be in possession again of your sense of humour and your
health, and explain that I am lending you another house for six months. Meanwhile I may have the right to use this house for a night or two for
my experiment. Is that understood between us?”

“I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart,” stammered Pender,
unable to find words to express his gratitude. Then he hesitated for a moment, searching the doctor’s face anxiously. “And your experiment with the house?” he said at length. “Of the simplest character, my dear Mr. Pender. Although I am myself an
artificially trained psychic, and consequently aware of the presence
of discarnate entities as a rule, I have so far felt nothing here at
all. This makes me sure that the forces acting here are of an unusual
description. What I propose to do is to make an experiment with a view
of drawing out this evil, coaxing it from its lair, so to speak, in
order that it may _exhaust itself through me_ and become dissipated for
ever. I have already been inoculated,” he added; “I consider myself to
be immune.”

“Heavens above!” gasped the author, collapsing on to a chair. “Hell beneath! might be a more appropriate exclamation,” the doctor
laughed. “But, seriously, Mr. Pender, this is what I propose to
do--with your permission.”

“Of course, of course,” cried the other, “you have my permission and my
best wishes for success. I can see no possible objection, but----”

“But what?”

“I pray to Heaven you will not undertake this experiment alone, will
you?”

“Oh dear, no; not alone.”

“You will take a companion with good nerves, and reliable in case of
disaster, won’t you?”

“I shall bring two companions,” the doctor said. “Ah, that’s better. I feel easier. I am sure you must have among your
acquaintances men who----”

“I shall not think of bringing men, Mr. Pender.”

The other looked up sharply. “No, or women either; or children.”

“I don’t understand. Who will you bring, then?”

“Animals,” explained the doctor, unable to prevent a smile at his
companion’s expression of surprise--“two animals, a cat and a dog.”

Pender stared as if his eyes would drop out upon the floor, and then
led the way without another word into the adjoining room where his wife
was awaiting them for tea.