th his
host's obvious half belief in the story.

Nigel wheeled and faced him in the dim light. The pupils of his eyes were
a trifle dilated.

"Yes, so I understand. Short time back a chap went out--fellow called
Myers--Will Myers. He was a bit drunk, I think, and thought he'd have
a shot at makin' the village busybodies sit up and give 'em something to
talk about. Anyhow, he went."

"And he came back?" Unconsciously a little note of anxiety had crept into
Tony West's voice.

"No, on the contrary, he did _not_ come back. They searched for his body
all over the marshes next day, but it had disappeared absolutely, and the
chap who told me said he saw another light come out the next night, and
join the rest of 'em.... There, there's your story, Lester, make what you
like of it. I've done my bit and told it anyway."

For a moment there was silence. Then Stark shook himself.

"Gad, what an uncanny story! Turn up the lights someone, and dispel this
gloom that seems to have settled on everyone! What do you make of it?"

Suddenly Wynne's great, bulky figure swung free from the shadows. There
were red glints in his eyes and a sneer curled his heavy lips. He sucked
his cigar and threw his head back.

"What I make of it is a whole lot of old women's damn silly nonsense!" he
announced in a loud voice. "And how a sensible, decent thinkin' man can
give credence to the thing for one second beats me completely! Nigel's
head was always full of imaginations (of a sort) but how you other chaps
can listen to the thing--Well, all I can say is you're the rottenest lot
of idiots I've ever come across!"

Merriton shut his lips tightly for a moment, and tried hard to remember
that this man was a guest in his house. It was so obvious that Wynne was
trying for a row, Doctor Bartholomew turned round and lifted a protesting
hand.

"Don't you think your language is a trifle--er--overstrong, Wynne?" he
said, in that quiet voice of his which made all men listen and wonder why
they did it.

Wynne tossed his shoulders. His thick neck was rather red.

"No, I'm damned if I do! You're men here--or supposed to be--not a pack
of weak-kneed women!... Afraid to go out and see what those lights are,
are you? Well, I'm not. Look here. I'll have a bet with you boys. Fifty
pounds that I get back safely, and dispel the morbid fancies from your
kindergarten brains by tellin' you that the things are glow-worms, or
some fool out for a practical joke on t