"What kind of stars?" put in John Silence sharply, in a sudden way that
made me start.

"Oh, I don't know quite; ordinary stars, I think he said, only very
large, and apparently blazing as though the ground was alight. He was
too terrified to go close and examine, and he has never seen them
since."

He stooped and stirred the fire into a welcome blaze--welcome for its
blaze of light rather than for its heat. In the room there was already a
strange pervading sensation of warmth that was oppressive in its effect
and far from comforting.

"Of course," he went on, straightening up again on the mat, "this was
all commonplace enough--this seeing lights and figures at night. Most of
these fellows drink, and imagination and terror between them may account
for almost anything. But others saw things in broad daylight. One of the
woodmen, a sober, respectable man, took the shortcut home to his midday
meal, and swore he was followed the whole length of the wood by
something that never showed itself, but dodged from tree to tree, always
keeping out of sight, yet solid enough to make the branches sway and the
twigs snap on the ground. And it made a noise, he declared--but
really"--the speaker stopped and gave a short laugh--"it's too
absurd--"

"_Please!_" insisted the doctor; "for it is these small details that
give me the best clues always."

"--it made a crackling noise, he said, like a bonfire. Those were