He realised this intuitively.  Smoke evidently realised it, too, for presently he deigned to march back to the fireplace and jump upon his master’s knees.  Dr. Silence, patient and determined, settled down once more to his book.  The animals soon slept; the fire blazed cheerfully; and the cold fog from outside poured into the room through every available chink and crannie.

For a long time silence and peace reigned in the room and Dr. Silence availed himself of the quietness to make careful notes of what had happened.  He entered for future use in other cases an exhaustive analysis of what he had observed, especially with regard to the effect upon the two animals.  It is impossible here, nor would it be intelligible to the reader unversed in the knowledge of the region known to a scientifically trained psychic like Dr. Silence, to detail these observations.  But to him it was clear, up to a certain point—­for the rest he must still wait and watch.  So far, at least, he realised that while he slept in the chair—­that is, while his will was dormant—­the room had suffered intrusion from what he recognised as an intensely active Force, and might later be forced to acknowledge as something more than merely a blind force, namely, a distinct personality.

So far it had affected himself scarcely at all, but had acted directly upon the simpler organisms of the animals.  It stimulated keenly the centres of the cat’s psychic being, inducing a state of instant happiness (intensifying its consciousness probably in the same way a drug or stimulant intensifies that of a human being); whereas it alarmed the less sensitive dog, causing it to feel a vague apprehension and distress.

His own sudden action and exhibition of energy had served to disperse it temporarily, yet he felt convinced—­the indications were not lacking even while he sat there making notes—­that it still remained near to him, conditionally if not spatially, and was, as it were, gathering force for a second attack.

And, further, he intuitively understood that the relations between the two animals had undergone a subtle change:  that the cat had become immeasurably superior, confident, sure of itself in its own peculiar region, whereas Flame had been weakened by an attack he could not comprehend and knew not how to reply to.  Though not yet afraid, he was defiant—­ready to act against a fear that he felt to be approaching.  He was no longer fatherly and protective towards the cat.  Smoke held the key to the situation; and both he and the cat knew it.

Thus, as the minutes passed, John Silence sat and waited, keenly on the alert, wondering how soon the attack would be renewed, and at what point it would be diverted from the animals and directed upon himself.

The book lay on the floor beside him, his notes were complete.  With one hand on the cat’s fur, and the dog’s front paws resting against his feet, the three of them dozed comfortably before the hot fire while the night wore on and the silence deepened towards midnight.