rately he waited, waited for what he knew
must soon come. Then the deep silence of the breathless night was broken
by that familiar, unearthly scream. Dominey waited till even its echoes
had died away. Then he ran a few steps, bent double, and stretched out
his hands. Once more, for the last time, that devil's cry broke the deep
stillness of the August morning, throbbing a little as though with a new
fear, dying away as though the fingers which crushed it back down the
straining throat had indeed crushed with it the last flicker of some
unholy life.

When Doctor Harrison made his hurried appearance, a few moments later,
he found Dominey seated upon the terrace, furiously smoking a cigarette.
On the ground, a few yards away, lay something black and motionless.

"What is it?" the doctor gasped.

For the first time Dominey showed some signs of a lack of self-control.
His voice was choked and uneven.

"Go and look at it, Doctor," he said. "It's tied up, hand and foot. You
can see where the spirit of Roger Unthank has hidden itself."

"Bosh!" the doctor answered, with grim contempt. "It's Roger Unthank
himself. The beast!"

A little stream of servants came running out. Dominey gave a few orders
quickly.

"Ring up the garage," he directed, "and I shall want one of the men to
go into Norwich to the hospital. Doctor, will you go up and see Lady
Dominey?"

The habits of a lifetime broke down. Parkins, the immaculate, the
silent, the perfect automaton, asked an eager question.

"What is it, sir?"

There was the sound of a window opening overhead. At that moment Parkins
would not have asked in vain for an annuity. Dominey glanced at the
little semicircle of servants and raised his voice.

"It is the end, I trust, of these foolish superstitions about Roger
Unthank's ghost. There lies Roger Unthank, half beast, half man. For
some reason or other--some lunatic's reason, of course--he has chosen to
hide himself in the Black Wood all these years. His mother, I presume,
has been his accomplice and taken him food. He is still alive but in a
disgusting state."

There was a little awed murmur. Dominey's voice had become quite matter
of fact.

"I suppose," he continued, "his first idea was to revenge himself upon
us and this household, by whom he imagined himself badly treated. The
man, however, was half a madman when he came to the neighbourhood and
has behaved like one ever since.--Johnson," Dominey continued, singling
o