ry. The longer the period and the larger the
number of comes, the greater the chance of his being located
somewhere near the centre of his activities."

"Well, I'm damned!" remarked Sir John for the second time. Then
suddenly turning to Inspector Wensdale, "Dammit!" he exploded, "why
didn't you think of that?"

"There was, of course, the chance of his striking in another
direction," continued Malcolm Sage, digging into the bowl of his
pipe with a penknife, "so I placed the men in such a way that if he
did so he was bound to be seen."

Inspector Wensdale continued to gaze at him, eager to hear more.

"But what was that you said about race-memory?" Sir John had quieted
down considerably since Malcolm Sage had begun his explanation.

"I should describe it as a harking back to an earlier phase. It is
to the mind what atavism is to the body. In breeding, for
instance"--Malcolm Sage looked across to Sir John--"you find that
an offspring will manifest characteristics, or a taint, that is not
to be found in either sire or dam."

Sir John nodded.

"Well, race-memory is the same thing in regard to the mental plane,
a sort of subconscious wave of reminiscence. In Callice's case it
was in all probability the memory of some sacrificial rite of his
ancestors centuries ago."

"A case of heredity."

"Broadly speaking, yes. At the full moon this particular tribe,
whose act Callice has reproduced, was in the habit of slaughtering
some beast, or beasts, and drinking the blood, probably with the
idea of absorbing their strength or their courage. Possibly the
surroundings at Hempdon were similar to those where the act of
sacrifice was committed in the past.

"It must be remembered that Callice was an ascetic, and consequently
highly subjective. Therefore when the wave of reminiscence is
taken in conjunction with the surroundings, the full moon and
his high state of subjectivity, it is easy to see that material
considerations might easily be obliterated. That is why I watched
the back entrance to his lodgings."

"And all the time we were telling him our plans," murmured the
inspector half to himself.

"Yes, and he would go out hunting himself," said Sir John. "Damn
funny, I call it. Anyway, he'll get seven years at least."

"When he awakens he will remember nothing about it. You cannot
punish a man for a subconscious crime."

Sir John snorted indignantly; but Inspector Wensdale nodded his head
slowly and regretfully.

"