head, and Smoke followed demurely at his heels, making a transparent
pretence of not being interested, yet missing nothing. And, at length,
they returned, the old collie first, and came to rest on the mat before
the fire. Flame rested his muzzle on his master's knee, smiling
beatifically while he patted the yellow head and spoke his name; and
Smoke, coming a little later, pretending he came by chance, looked from
the empty saucer to his face, lapped up the milk when it was given him
to the last drop, and then sprang upon his knees and curled round for
the sleep it had fully earned and intended to enjoy.

Silence descended upon the room. Only the breathing of the dog upon the
mat came through the deep stillness, like the pulse of time marking the
minutes; and the steady drip, drip of the fog outside upon the
window-ledges dismally testified to the inclemency of the night beyond.
And the soft crashings of the coals as the fire settled down into the
grate became less and less audible as the fire sank and the flames
resigned their fierceness.

It was now well after eleven o'clock, and Dr. Silence devoted himself
again to his book. He read the words on the printed page and took in
their meaning superficially, yet without starting into life the
correlations of thought and suggestions that should accompany
interesting reading. Underneath, all the while, his mental energies were
absorbed in watching, listening, waiting for what might come. He was not
over-sanguine himself, yet he did not wish to be taken by surprise.
Moreover, the animals, his sensitive barometers, had incontinently gone
to sleep.

After reading a dozen pages, however, he realised that his mind was
really occupied in reviewing the features of Pender's extraordinary