“Yes, I can explain.  Now that I know she is well, I shall tell you all I know from the beginning.  It’s certainly your turn to ask questions.  I may not be able to tell you all that you want to know; but at least I know more than any other person this side of the Spot.  Let us go down to the library.”

He glanced at a clock.  “We have nearly five hours remaining.  Our test will come when we open the Spot.  We must not only open it, but we must close it at all costs.”

They had reached the lower hall.  At the front door Watson paused and turned to the others.

“Just a moment.  We may fail tonight.  In case we do, I would like one last look at my own world—­at San Francisco.”

He opened the door.  The rest hung back; though they could not understand, they could sense, vaguely, the emotion of this strange man of brave adventure.  The scene, the setting, the beauty, were all akin to the moment.  Watson, stood bareheaded, looking down at the blinking lights of the city of the Argonauts.  The moon in a starlit sky was drifting through a ragged lace of cloud.  And over it all was a momentary hush, as though the man’s emotion had called for it.

No one spoke.  At last Watson closed the door.  And there was just the trace of tears in his eyes as he spoke: 

“Now my friends—­” And led the way into the parlour.

XXIX

THE OCCULT WORLD

“In telling what I know,” began Watson, “I shall use a bit of a preface.  It’s necessary, in a way, if you are to understand me; besides, it will give you the advantage of looking into the Blind Spot with the clear eyes of reason.  I intend to tell all, to omit nothing.  My purpose in doing this is that, in case we should fail tonight, you will be able to give my account to the world.”

It was a strange introduction.  His listeners exchanged thoughtful glances.  But they all affirmed, and Sir Henry hitched his chair almost impatiently.

“All right, Mr. Watson.  Please proceed.”

“To begin with,” said Watson, “I assume that you all know of Dr. Holcomb’s announcement concerning the Blind Spot.  You remember that he promised to solve the occult; how he foretold that he would prove it not by immaterial but by the very material means; that he would produce the fact and the substance.

“Now, the professor had promised to deliver something far greater than he had thought it to be.  At the same time, what he knew of the Blind Spot was part conjecture and part fact.  Like his forebears and contemporaries, he looked upon man as the real being.

“But it’s a question, now, as to which is reality and which is not.  There is not a branch of philosophy that looks upon the question in that light.  Bishop Berkeley came near and he has been followed by others; but they all have been deceived by their own sophistry.  However, except for the grossest materialists, all thinkers take cognizance of a hereafter.