"Yes," he presently continued, half talking to himself, "I suspect in
this case that Vezin was swept into the vortex of forces arising out of
the intense activities of a past life, and that he lived over again a
scene in which he had often played a leading part centuries before. For
strong actions set up forces that are so slow to exhaust themselves,
they may be said in a sense never to die. In this case they were not
vital enough to render the illusion complete, so that the little man
found himself caught in a very distressing confusion of the present and
the past; yet he was sufficiently sensitive to recognise that it was
true, and to fight against the degradation of returning, even in
memory, to a former and lower state of development.

"Ah yes!" he continued, crossing the floor to gaze at the darkening sky,
and seemingly quite oblivious of my presence, "subliminal up-rushes of
memory like this can be exceedingly painful, and sometimes exceedingly
dangerous. I only trust that this gentle soul may soon escape from this
obsession of a passionate and tempestuous past. But I doubt it, I doubt
it."

His voice was hushed with sadness as he spoke, and when he turned back
into the room again there was an expression of profound yearning upon
his face, the yearning of a soul whose desire to help is sometimes
greater than his power.

CASE III: THE NEMESIS OF FIRE

I

By some means which I never could fathom, John Silence always contrived
to keep the compartment to himself, and as the train had a clear run of
two hours before the first stop, there was ample time to go over the
preliminary facts of the case. He had telephoned to me that very
morning, and even through the disguise of the miles of wire the thrill
of incalculable adventure had sounded in his voice.

"As if it were an ordinary country visit," he called, in reply to my
question; "and don't forgot to bring your gun."

"With blank cartridges, I suppose?" for I knew his rigid principles with
regard to the taking of life, and guessed that the guns were merely for
some obvious purpose of disguise.

Then he thanked me for coming, mentioned the train, snapped down the
receiver, and left me, vibrating with the excitement of anticipation, to
do my packing. For the honour of accompanying Dr. John Silence on one of
his big cases was what many would have considered an empty honour--and
risky. Certainly the adventure held all manner of possibilities, and I
arr