senses. Outwardly there was nothing to startle me, unless it
was that curious, deepening silence. The darkness, the shore, the
starlit gardens were just the same. Nor was it a perceptible, abrupt
start. It came slowly, growing, creeping through me. I had no
inclination to make any perceptible motion, or to show that anything was
different than it was before. I turned slowly to Van Hope, sitting to my
left.

Instinctively I knew that here was the source of my alarm. It was
something that my subconscious self had picked up from him. He was
sitting motionless in his chair, his hand that held his cigar half
raised to his lips, staring away into the distant gardens.

There is something bad for the spirit in the sight of an entirely
motionless figure. The reason is simply that it is out of accord with
nature--that the very soul of things, from the tree on the hill to the
stars in the sky, is motion never ending. A figure suddenly changed to
stone focuses the attention much more surely than any sudden sound or
movement. Perhaps it has its origin in the deep-hidden instincts,
harking back to those long ago times when the sudden arresting of all
motion on the part of the companion indicated the presence of some great
danger and an attempt to escape its gaze. Even to-day it indicates a
thought so compelling that the half-unconscious physical functions are
suspended: a fear or a sensation so violent that life seems to die in
the body.

Van Hope couldn't get his cigar to his lips. He held it between his
fingers, a few inches in front. He was watching so intently that his
face looked absolutely blank. A little shiver that was some way related
to fear passed over me, and I had all the sensations of being violently
startled. Then Van Hope suddenly got to his feet with a short, low
exclamation.

Our nerves on edge, instantly all three of us were beside him--Weldon,
myself, and Joe Nopp. All of us tried to follow his gaze into the gloom.
"What is it?" Weldon asked.

Van Hope, seemingly scarcely aware of us before, instantly rallied his
faculties and turned to us. In a single instant he had wrenched back
complete self-control--an indication of self-mastery such as I had
rarely seen surpassed. He smiled a little, in the gloom, and dropped his
hand to his side.

"I suppose it was nothing," he answered. "I guess I'm jumpy. Maybe half
asleep. But I saw some one--walking through the gardens down by the
lagoon."

Van Hope spoke rath