and announce a total loss of
self-control.

The moment he saw his visitor a smile spread over his worn features, and
he advanced to shake hands.

"I hoped you would come; Mrs. Sivendson said you might be able to find
time," he said simply. His voice was thin and needy. "I am very glad to
see you, Dr. Silence. It is 'Doctor,' is it not?"

"Well, I am entitled to the description," laughed the other, "but I
rarely get it. You know, I do not practise as a regular thing; that is,
I only take cases that specially interest me, or--"

He did not finish the sentence, for the men exchanged a glance of
sympathy that rendered it unnecessary.

"I have heard of your great kindness."

"It's my hobby," said the other quickly, "and my privilege."

"I trust you will still think so when you have heard what I have to tell
you," continued the author, a little wearily. He led the way across the
hall into the little smoking-room where they could talk freely and
undisturbed.

In the smoking-room, the door shut and privacy about them, Fender's
attitude changed somewhat, and his manner became very grave. The doctor
sat opposite, where he could watch his face. Already, he saw, it looked
more haggard. Evidently it cost him much to refer to his trouble at all.

"What I have is, in my belief, a profound spiritual affliction," he
began quite bluntly, looking straight into the other's eyes.

"I saw that at once," Dr. Silence said.

"Yes, you saw that, of course; my atmosphere must convey that much to
any one with psychic perceptions. Besides which, I feel sure from all
I've heard, that you are really a soul-doctor, are you not, more than a
healer merely of the body?"

"You think of me too highly," returned the other; "though I prefer
cases, as you know, in which the spirit is disturbed first, the body
afterwards."

"I understand, yes. Well, I have experienced a curious disturbance
in--not in my physical region primarily. I mean my nerves are all right,
and my body is all right. I have no delusions exactly, but my spirit is
tortured by a calamitous fear which first came upon me in a strange
manner."

John Silence leaned forward a moment and took the speaker's hand and
held it in his own for a few brief seconds, closing his eyes as he did
so. He was not feeling his pulse, or doing any of the things that
doctors ordinarily do; he was merely absorbing into himself the main
note of the man's mental condition, so as to get completely his