ome great internal effort. He heard the thin, reedy
voice cry in his ear to "Block the entrances, block the entrances!" and
then--but how in the world describe what is indescribable?

John Silence half rose up to watch. Racine Mudge, his face distorted
beyond all recognition, was making a marvellous inward movement, as
though doubling back upon himself. He turned funnel-wise like water in a
whirling vortex, and then appeared to break up somewhat as a reflection
breaks up and divides in a distorting convex mirror. He went neither
forward nor backwards, neither to the right nor the left, neither up nor
down. But he went. He went utterly. He simply flashed away out of sight
like a vanishing projectile.

All but one leg! Dr. Silence just had the time and the presence of mind
to seize upon the left ankle and boot as it disappeared, and to this he
held on for several seconds like grim death. Yet all the time he knew it
was a foolish and useless thing to do.

The foot was in his grasp one moment, and the next it seemed--this was
the only way he could describe it--inside his own skin and bones, and at
the same time outside his hand and all round it. It seemed mixed up in
some amazing way with his own flesh and blood. Then it was gone, and he
was tightly grasping a draught of heated air.

"Gone! gone! gone!" cried a thick, whispering voice, somewhere deep
within his own consciousness. "Lost! lost! lost!" it repeated, growing
fainter and fainter till at length it vanished into nothing and the last
signs of Mr. Racine Mudge vanished with it.

John Silence locked his red book and replaced it in the cabinet, which
he fastened with a click, and when Barker answered the bell he inquired
if Mr. Mudge had left a card upon the table. It appeared that he had,
and when the servant returned with it, Dr. Silence read the address and
made a note of it. It was in North London.

"Mr. Mudge has gone," he said quietly to Barker, noticing his expression
of alarm.

"He's not taken his 'at with him, sir."

"Mr. Mudge requires no hat where he is now," continued the doctor,
stooping to poke the fire. "But he may return for it--"

"And the humbrella, sir."

"And the umbrella."

"He didn't go out _my_ way, sir, if you please," stuttered the amazed
servant, his curiosity overcoming his nervousness.

"Mr. Mudge has his own way of coming and going, and prefers it. If he
returns by the door at any time remember to bring him instantly to me,
a