ixing his sepulchral stare
on Heyst. "And yet here I am, taken in by the fellow, like the veriest
fool. I've been always on the watch for some beastly influence, but here
I am, fairly caught. He shaved himself right in front of me and I never
guessed!"

The shrill laugh, following on the low tone of secrecy, sounded so
convincingly insane that Heyst got up as if moved by a spring. Mr. Jones
stepped back two paces, but displayed no uneasiness.

"It's as clear as daylight!" he uttered mournfully, and fell silent.

Behind him the doorway flickered lividly, and the sound as of a naval
action somewhere away on the horizon filled the breathless pause.
Mr. Jones inclined his head on his shoulder. His mood had completely
changed.

"What do you say, unarmed man? Shall we go and see what is detaining
my trusted Martin so long? He asked me to keep you engaged in friendly
conversation till he made a further examination of that track. Ha, ha,
ha!"

"He is no doubt ransacking my house," said Heyst.

He was bewildered. It seemed to him that all this was an
incomprehensible dream, or perhaps an elaborate other-world joke,
contrived by that spectre in a gorgeous dressing gown.

Mr Jones looked at him with a horrible, cadaverous smile of inscrutable
mockery, and pointed to the door. Heyst passed through it first. His
feelings had become so blunted that he did not care how soon he was shot
in the back.

"How oppressive the air is!" the voice of Mr. Jones said at his elbow.
"This stupid storm gets on my nerves. I would welcome some rain, though
it would be unpleasant to get wet. On the other hand, this exasperating
thunder has the advantage of covering the sound of our approach. The
lightning's not so convenient. Ah, your house is fully illuminated!
My clever Martin is punishing your stock of candles. He belongs to the
unceremonious classes, which are also unlovely, untrustworthy, and so
on."

"I left the candles burning," said Heyst, "to save him trouble."

"You really believed he would go to your house?" asked Mr. Jones with
genuine interest.

"I had that notion, strongly. I do believe he is there now."

"And you don't mind?"

"No!"

"You don't!" Mr. Jones stopped to wonder. "You are an extraordinary
man," he said suspiciously, and moved on, touching elbows with Heyst.

In the latter's breast dwelt a deep silence, the complete silence of
unused faculties. At this moment, by simply shouldering Mr. Jones, he
could have