now convulsed with noisy anger,
shaking his fists and stamping on the portico-roof.

"Get out!" he shouted. "Don't come near my house again, or I'll have you
flung out! Go away and take your friends with you! D'you hear? Go away,
sir, and don't come here annoying me! Go! Go at once!"

Mr. Potswood absolutely staggered with amazement. "Why," he gasped,
"it's Mason! He's mad--clean mad! Why, Mason, my poor friend, don't you
know me?"

"Get out, I say!" cried Mason. "Give me no more of your talk! I won't
have you here!" And now Hewitt caught a glimpse of a girl's face at the
window behind the man--a pale and handsome face, drawn with anxiety and
fear.

Hewitt seized the clergyman quickly by the arm. "Come," he whispered
hurriedly, "come away at once. There is a reason for this. Get away at
once. If you can answer back angrily, do so, but at any rate, come
away."

He hurried back to the gate, half dragging the astounded rector, who was
all too honest a soul to be able to counterfeit an anger he did not
feel, even if his amazement had not made him speechless. Hewitt closed
the gate behind him and said as he walked, "Where is the rectory? We
will go there. He may have sent a message while you were out."

Mechanically the rector took the first turning. "But he's mad!" he
protested. "Mad, poor fellow! Merciful heavens, Mr. Hewitt, his whole
tale must have been a delusion! A mere madman's fancy! Poor fellow! We
must go back, Mr. Hewitt--we really must! We can't leave that poor girl
there alone with a raving maniac!"

"No," Hewitt insisted, "come to the rectory. That is no madness, Mr.
Potswood. Couldn't you see the colour of the man under the eyes, and the
shaking of his beard? That was not anger and it was not madness. It was
terror, Mr. Potswood--sheer, sick terror! Terror, or some emotion very
much like it."

"But, if terror, why that outburst? What does it mean? If it were
terror, why not rather welcome our company and help?"

"Don't you see, Mr. Potswood?" answered Hewitt. "Don't you guess? _Mason
is watched, and he knows it!_ He was acting his anger before unseen
eyes--and he knew they were on him!"

"God be merciful to us all," ejaculated the clergyman. "Poor man--poor
sinner! What is this unspeakable thing which has him in its clutches?
What had he done to give himself over to such a power?"

"We can tell nothing, and guess nothing, as yet," Hewitt answered. "Let
us see if he has sent you a message. It seem