How much he knew beforehand by his strange
divining powers, it is impossible to say, but from the moment he came
upon the scene and caught within himself the note of what was going on
amongst us, he undoubtedly held the true solution of the puzzle and had
no need to ask questions. And this certitude it was that set him in
such an atmosphere of power and made us all look to him instinctively;
for he took no tentative steps, made no false moves, and while the rest
of us floundered he moved straight to the climax. He was indeed a true
diviner of souls. I can now read into his behaviour a good deal that puzzled me at the
time, for though I had dimly guessed the solution, I had no idea how
he would deal with it. And the conversations I can reproduce almost
verbatim, for, according to my invariable habit, I kept full notes of
all he said. To Mrs. Maloney, foolish and dazed; to Joan, alarmed, yet plucky;
and to the clergyman, moved by his daughter’s distress below his
usual shallow emotions, he gave the best possible treatment in the
best possible way, yet all so easily and simply as to make it appear
naturally spontaneous. For he dominated the Bo’sun’s Mate, taking the
measure of her ignorance with infinite patience; he keyed up Joan,
stirring her courage and interest to the highest point for her own
safety; and the Reverend Timothy he soothed and comforted, while
obtaining his implicit obedience, by taking him into his confidence,
and leading him gradually to a comprehension of the issue that was
bound to follow. And Sangree--here his wisdom was most wisely calculated--he neglected
outwardly because inwardly he was the object of his unceasing and most
concentrated attention. Under the guise of apparent indifference his
mind kept the Canadian under constant observation. There was a restless feeling in the Camp that evening and none of us
lingered round the fire after supper as usual. Sangree and I busied
ourselves with patching up the torn tent for our guest and with finding
heavy stones to hold the ropes, for Dr. Silence insisted on having it
pitched on the highest point of the island ridge, just where it was
most rocky and there was no earth for pegs. The place, moreover, was
midway between the men’s and women’s tents, and, of course, commanded
the most comprehensive view of the Camp. “So that if your dog comes,” he said simply, “I may be able to catch
him as he passes across.”

The wind had gone down with the sun and an unusual warmth lay over the
island that made sleep heavy, and in the morning we assembled at a
late breakfast, rubbing our eyes and yawning. The cool north wind had
given way to the warm southern air that sometimes came up with haze and
moisture across the Baltic, bringing with it the relaxing sensations
that produced enervation and listlessness. And this may have been the reason why at first I failed to notice that
anything unusual was about, and why I was less alert than normally; for
it was not till after breakfast that the silence of our little party
struck me and I discovered that Joan had not yet put in an appearance. And then, in a flash, the last heaviness of sleep vanished and I saw
that Maloney was white and troubled and his wife could not hold a plate
without trembling. A desire to ask questions was stopped in me by a swift glance from
Dr. Silence, and I suddenly understood in some vague way that they
were waiting till Sangree should have gone. How this idea came to me I
cannot determine, but the soundness of the intuition was soon proved,
for the moment he moved off to his tent, Maloney looked up at me and
began to speak in a low voice. “You slept through it all,” he half whispered. “Through what?” I asked, suddenly thrilled with the knowledge that
something dreadful had happened. “We didn’t wake you for fear of getting the whole Camp up,” he went on,
meaning, by the Camp, I supposed, Sangree. “It was just before dawn
when the screams woke me.”

“The dog again?” I asked, with a curious sinking of the heart. “Got right into the tent,” he went on, speaking passionately but very
low, “and woke my wife by scrambling all over her. Then she realised
that Joan was struggling beside her. And, by God! the beast had torn
her arm; scratched all down the arm she was, and bleeding.”

“Joan injured?” I gasped. “Merely scratched--this time,” put in John Silence, speaking for the
first time; “suffering more from shock and fright than actual wounds.”

“Isn’t it a mercy the doctor was here,” said Mrs. Maloney, looking as
if she would never know calmness again. “I think we should both have
been killed.”

“It has been a most merciful escape,” Maloney said, his pulpit
voice struggling with his emotion. “But, of course, we cannot risk
another--we must strike Camp and get away at once----”

“Only poor Mr. Sangree must not know what has happened. He is so
attached to Joan and would be so terribly upset,” added the Bo’sun’s
Mate distractedly, looking all about in her terror. “It is perhaps advisable that Mr. Sangree should not know what has
occurred,” Dr. Silence said with quiet authority, “but I think, for the
safety of all concerned, it will be better not to leave the island just
now.” He spoke with great decision and Maloney looked up and followed
his words closely. “If you will agree to stay here a few days longer, I have no doubt
we can put an end to the attentions of your strange visitor, and
incidentally have the opportunity of observing a most singular and
interesting phenomenon----”

“What!” gasped Mrs. Maloney, “a phenomenon?--you mean that you know
what it is?”

“I am quite certain I know what it is,” he replied very low, for we
heard the footsteps of Sangree approaching, “though I am not so certain
yet as to the best means of dealing with it. But in any case it is not
wise to leave precipitately----”

“Oh, Timothy, does he think it’s a devil----?” cried the Bo’sun’s Mate
in a voice that even the Canadian must have heard. “In my opinion,” continued John Silence, looking across at me and the
clergyman, “it is a case of modern lycanthropy with other complications
that may----” He left the sentence unfinished, for Mrs. Maloney got up
with a jump and fled to her tent fearful she might hear a worse thing,
and at that moment Sangree turned the corner of the stockade and came
into view. “There are footmarks all round the mouth of my tent,” he said with
excitement. “The animal has been here again in the night. Dr. Silence,
you really must come and see them for yourself. They’re as plain on the
moss as tracks in snow.”

But later in the day, while Sangree went off in the canoe to fish
the pools near the larger islands, and Joan still lay, bandaged and
resting, in her tent, Dr. Silence called me and the tutor and proposed
a walk to the granite slabs at the far end. Mrs. Maloney sat on
a stump near her daughter, and busied herself energetically with
alternate nursing and painting.