horrible, and, indeed, almost incredible ascendency.  How he actually had sent Holt, practically naked, into the storm-driven streets, to commit burglary at Paul’s house,—­and how he,—­Holt,—­had actually gone without being able to offer even a shadow of opposition.  How Paul, suddenly returning home, had come upon Holt engaged in the very act of committing burglary, and how, on his hearing Holt make a cabalistic reference to some mysterious beetle, the manhood had gone out of him, and he had suffered the intruder to make good his escape without an effort to detain him.

The story had seemed sufficiently astonishing the first time, it seemed still more astonishing the second,—­but, as I watched Sydney listening, what struck me chiefly was the conviction that he had heard it all before.  I charged him with it directly Holt had finished.

‘This is not the first time you have been told this tale.’

’Pardon me,—­but it is.  Do you suppose I live in an atmosphere of fairy tales?’

Something in his manner made me feel sure he was deceiving me.

‘Sydney!—­Don’t tell me a story!—­Paul has told you!’

’I am not telling you a story,—­at least, on this occasion; and Mr Lessingham has not told me.  Suppose we postpone these details to a little later.  And perhaps, in the interim, you will permit me to put a question or two to Mr Holt.’

I let him have his way,—­though I knew he was concealing something from me; that he had a more intimate acquaintance with Mr Holt’s strange tale than he chose to confess.  And, for some cause, his reticence annoyed me.

He looked at Mr Holt in silence for a second or two.

Then he said, with the quizzical little air of bland impertinence which is peculiarly his own,

’I presume, Mr Holt, you have been entertaining us with a novelty in fables, and that we are not expected to believe this pleasant little yarn of yours.’

’I expect nothing.  But I have told you the truth.  And you know it.’

This seemed to take Sydney aback.

’I protest that, like Miss Lindon, you credit me with a more extensive knowledge than I possess.  However, we will let that pass.—­I take it that you paid particular attention to this mysterious habitant of this mysterious dwelling.’

I saw that Mr Holt shuddered.

‘I am not likely ever to forget him.’

‘Then, in that case, you will be able to describe him to us.’

’To do so adequately would be beyond my powers.  But I will do my best.’

If the original was more remarkable than the description which he gave of him, then he must have been remarkable indeed.  The impression conveyed to my mind was rather of a monster than a human being.  I watched Sydney attentively as he followed Mr Holt’s somewhat lurid language, and there was something in his demeanour which made me more and more persuaded that he was more behind the scenes in this strange business than he pretended, or than the speaker suspected.  He put a question which seemed uncalled for by anything which Mr Holt had said.