“What did it mean?  He had seen a Woman, searching for something. I had not seen this Woman. I had seen a Child, running away, and hiding from Something or Someone. He had not seen the Child, or the other things—­only the Woman.  And I had not seen her.  What did it all mean?

“I had said nothing to the landlord about the Child.  I had been too bewildered, and I realized that it would be futile to attempt an explanation.  He was already stupid with the thing he had seen; and not the kind of man to understand.  All this went through my mind as we stood there, shining the lanterns to and fro.  All the time, intermingled with a streak of practical reasoning, I was questioning myself, what did it all mean?  What was the Woman searching for; what was the Child running from?

“Suddenly, as I stood there, bewildered and nervous, making random answers to the landlord, a door below was violently slammed, and directly I caught the horrible reek of which I have told you.

“‘There!’ I said to the landlord, and caught his arm, in my turn.  ’The Smell!  Do you smell it?’

“He looked at me so stupidly that in a sort of nervous anger, I shook him.

“‘Yes,’ he said, in a queer voice, trying to shine the light from his shaking lantern at the stair head.

“‘Come on!’ I said, and picked up my bayonet; and he came, carrying his gun awkwardly.  I think he came, more because he was afraid to be left alone, than because he had any pluck left, poor beggar.  I never sneer at that kind of funk, at least very seldom; for when it takes hold of you, it makes rags of your courage.

“I led the way downstairs, shining my light into the lower passage, and afterward at the doors to see whether they were shut; for I had closed and latched them, placing a corner of a mat against each door, so I should know which had been opened.

“I saw at once that none of the doors had been opened; then I threw the beam of my light down alongside the stairway, in order to see the mat I had placed against the door at the top of the cellar stairs.  I got a horrid thrill; for the mat was flat!  I paused a couple of seconds, shining my light to and fro in the passage, and holding fast to my courage, I went down the stairs.

“As I came to the bottom step, I saw patches of wet all up and down the passage.  I shone my lantern on them.  It was the imprint of a wet foot on the oilcloth of the passage; not an ordinary footprint, but a queer, soft, flabby, spreading imprint, that gave me a feeling of extraordinary horror.

“Backward and forward I flashed the light over the impossible marks and saw them everywhere.  Suddenly I noticed that they led to each of the closed doors.  I felt something touch my back, and glanced ’round swiftly, to find the landlord had come close to me, almost pressing against me, in his fear.

“‘It’s all right,’ I said, but in a rather breathless whisper, meaning to put a little courage into him; for I could feel that he was shaking through all his body.  Even then as I tried to get him steadied enough to be of some use, his gun went off with a tremendous bang.  He jumped, and yelled with sheer terror; and I swore because of the shock.