ge of remarks that
thrilled. Probably Maloney's swift acquiescence in the doctor's mood had
something to do with it; for his quick obedience certainly impressed me
a good deal. But, even without that slight evidence, it was clear that
each recognised the gravity of the occasion, and understood that sleep
was impossible and sentry duty was the order of the night.

"Report to me," repeated John Silence once again, "the least sound, and
do nothing precipitately."

He shifted across to the mouth of the tent and raised the flap,
fastening it against the pole so that he could see out. Maloney stopped
humming and began to force the breath through his teeth with a kind of
faint hissing, treating us to a medley of church hymns and popular songs
of the day.

Then the tent trembled as though some one had touched it.

"That's the wind rising," whispered the clergyman, and pulled the flap
open as far as it would go. A waft of cold damp air entered and made us
shiver, and with it came a sound of the sea as the first wave washed its
way softly along the shores.

"It's got round to the north," he added, and following his voice came a
long-drawn whisper that rose from the whole island as the trees sent
forth a sighing response. "The fog'll move a bit now. I can make out a
lane across the sea already."

"Hush!" said Dr. Silence, for Maloney's voice had risen above a whisper,
and we settled down again to another long period of watching and
waiting, broken only by the occasional rubbing of shoulders against the
canvas as we shifted our positions, and the increasing noise of waves on
the outer coast-line of the island. And over all whirred the murmur of
wind sweeping the tops of the trees like a great harp, and the faint
tapping on the tent as drops fell from the branches with a sharp pinging
sound.

We had sat for something over an hour in this way, and Maloney and I
were finding it increasingly hard to keep awake, when suddenly Dr.
Silence rose to his feet and peered out. The next minute he was gone.

Relieved of the dominating presence, the clergyman thrust his face close
into mine. "I don't much care for this waiting game," he whispered, "but
Silence wouldn't hear of my sitting up with the others; he said it would
prevent anything happening if I did."

"He knows," I answered shortly.

"No doubt in the world about that," he whispered back; "it's this
'Double' business, as he calls it, or else it's obsession as the Bible
desc