He looked at us each in turn. Colonel Wragge moved his feet farther apart, and squared his shoulders; and I felt guilty but said nothing, conscious that my latent store of courage was being deliberately hauled to the front. He was winding me up like a clock.
“So that, in what is yet to come,” continued our leader, “each of us will contribute his share of power, and ensure success for my plan.”
“I’m not afraid of anything I can see,” said the Colonel bluntly.
“I’m ready,” I heard myself say, as it were automatically, “for anything,” and then added, feeling the declaration was lamely insufficient, “and everything.”
Dr. Silence left the mat and began walking to and fro about the room, both hands plunged deep into the pockets of his shooting-jacket. Tremendous vitality streamed from him. I never took my eyes off the small, moving figure; small yes—and yet somehow making me think of a giant plotting the destruction of worlds. And his manner was gentle, as always, soothing almost, and his words uttered quietly without emphasis or emotion. Most of what he said was addressed, though not too obviously, to the Colonel.
“The violence of this sudden attack,” he said softly, pacing to and fro beneath the bookcase at the end of the room, “is due, of course, partly to the fact that tonight the moon is at the full”—here he glanced at me for a moment—“and partly to the fact that we have all been so deliberately concentrating upon the matter. Our thinking, our investigation, has stirred it into unusual activity. I mean that the intelligent force behind these manifestations has realised that someone is busied about its destruction. And it is now on the defensive: more, it is aggressive.”
“But ‘it’—what is ‘it’?” began the soldier, fuming. “What, in the name of all that’s dreadful, is a fire elemental?”
“I cannot give you at this moment,” replied Dr. Silence, turning to him, but undisturbed by the interruption, “a lecture on the nature and history of magic, but can only say that an Elemental is the active force behind the elements—whether earth, air, water, or fire—it is impersonal in its essential nature, but can be focused, personified, ensouled, so to say, by those who know how—by magicians, if you will—for certain purposes of their own, much in the same way that steam and electricity can be harnessed by the practical man of this century.
“Alone, these blind elemental energies can accomplish little, but governed and directed by the trained will of a powerful manipulator they may become potent activities for good or evil. They are the basis of all magic, and it is the motive behind them that constitutes the magic ‘black’ or ‘white’; they can be the vehicles of curses or of blessings, for a curse is nothing more than the thought of a violent will perpetuated. And in such cases—cases like this—the conscious, directing will of the mind that is using the elemental stands always behind the phenomena—”
“You think that my brother—!” broke in the Colonel, aghast.
“Has nothing whatever to do with it—directly. The fire elemental that has here been tormenting you and your household was sent upon its mission long before you, or your family, or your ancestors, or even the nation you belong to—unless I am much mistaken—was even in existence. We will come to that a little later; after the experiment I propose to make we shall be more positive. At present I can only say we have to deal now, not only with the phenomenon of Attacking Fire merely, but with the vindictive and enraged intelligence that is directing it from behind the scenes—vindictive and enraged,”—he repeated the words.
“That explains—” began Colonel Wragge, seeking furiously for words he could not find quickly enough.
“Much,” said John Silence, with a gesture to restrain him.
He stopped a moment in the middle of his walk, and a deep silence came down over the little room. Through the windows the sunlight seemed less bright, the long line of dark hills less friendly, making me think of a vast wave towering to heaven and about to break and overwhelm us. Something formidable had crept into the world about us. For, undoubtedly, there was a disquieting thought, holding terror as well as awe, in the picture his words conjured up: the conception of a human will reaching its deathless hand, spiteful and destructive, down through the ages, to strike the living and afflict the innocent.
“But what is its object?” burst out the soldier, unable to restrain himself longer in the silence. “Why does it come from that plantation? And why should it attack us, or anyone in particular?” Questions began to pour from him in a stream.
“All in good time,” the doctor answered quietly, having let him run on for several minutes. “But I must first discover positively what, or who, it is that directs this particular fire elemental. And, to do that, we must first”—he spoke with slow deliberation—“seek to capture—to confine by visibility—to limit its sphere in a concrete form.”
“Good heavens almighty!” exclaimed the soldier, mixing his words in his unfeigned surprise.
“Quite so,” pursued the other calmly; “for in so doing I think we can release it from the purpose that binds it, restore it to its normal condition of latent fire, and also”—he lowered his voice perceptibly—“also discover the face and form of the Being that ensouls it.”
“The man behind the gun!” cried the Colonel, beginning to understand something, and leaning forward so as not to miss a single syllable.
“I mean that in the last resort, before it returns to the womb of potential fire, it will probably assume the face and figure of its Director, of the man of magical knowledge who originally bound it with his incantations and sent it forth upon its mission of centuries.”
The soldier sat down and gasped openly in his face, breathing hard; but
