and a grunt that dogs make upon being
restored to their master's confidence. Dr. Silence heard the thumping of
the collie's tail against the floor. And the grunt and the thumping
touched the depth of affection in the man's heart, and gave him some
inkling of what agonies the dumb creature had suffered.

Next, from the shadows by the window, a somewhat shrill purring
announced the restoration of the cat to its normal state. Smoke was
advancing across the carpet. He seemed very pleased with himself, and
smiled with an expression of supreme innocence. He was no shadow-cat,
but real and full of his usual and perfect self-possession. He marched
along, picking his way delicately, but with a stately dignity that
suggested his ancestry with the majesty of Egypt. His eyes no longer
glared; they shone steadily before him, they radiated, not excitement,
but knowledge. Clearly he was anxious to make amends for the mischief to
which he had unwittingly lent himself owing to his subtle and electric
constitution.

Still uttering his sharp high purrings he marched up to his master and
rubbed vigorously against his legs. Then he stood on his hind feet and
pawed his knees and stared beseechingly up into his face. He turned his
head towards the corner where the collie still lay, thumping his tail
feebly and pathetically.

John Silence understood. He bent down and stroked the creature's living
fur, noting the line of bright blue sparks that followed the motion of
his hand down its back. And then they advanced together towards the
corner where the dog was.

Smoke went first and put his nose gently against his friend's muzzle,
purring while he rubbed, and uttering little soft sounds of affection in
his throat. The doctor lit the candle and brought it over. He saw the
collie lying on its side against the wall; it was utterly exhausted, and
foam still hung about its jaws. Its tail and eyes responded to the sound
of its name, but it was evidently very weak and overcome. Smoke
continued to rub against its cheek and nose and eyes, sometimes even
standing on its body and kneading into the thick yellow hair. Flame
replied from time to time by little licks of the tongue, most of them
curiously misdirected.

But Dr. Silence felt intuitively that something disastrous had happened,
and his heart was wrung. He stroked the dear body, feeling it over for
bruises or broken bones, but finding none. He fed it with what remained
of the sandwiches and mil