He braced himself in the corner against the mantelpiece and waited, his whole being roused to defence, for he was now fully aware that the attack had spread to include himself as well as the animals, and he must be on the alert.  He strained his eyes through the foggy atmosphere, trying in vain to see what the cat and dog saw; but the candlelight threw an uncertain and flickering light across the room and his eyes discerned nothing.  On the floor Smoke moved softly in front of him like a black shadow, his eyes gleaming as he turned his head, still trying with many insinuating gestures and much purring to bring about the introductions he desired.

But it was all in vain.  Flame stood riveted to one spot, motionless as a figure carved in stone.

Some minutes passed, during which only the cat moved, and then there came a sharp change.  Flame began to back towards the wall.  He moved his head from side to side as he went, sometimes turning to snap at something almost behind him.  They were advancing upon him, trying to surround him.  His distress became very marked from now onwards, and it seemed to the doctor that his anger merged into genuine terror and became overwhelmed by it.  The savage growl sounded perilously like a whine, and more than once he tried to dive past his master’s legs, as though hunting for a way of escape.  He was trying to avoid something that everywhere blocked the way.

This terror of the indomitable fighter impressed the doctor enormously; yet also painfully; stirring his impatience; for he had never before seen the dog show signs of giving in, and it distressed him to witness it.  He knew, however, that he was not giving in easily, and understood that it was really impossible for him to gauge the animal’s sensations properly at all.  What Flame felt, and saw, must be terrible indeed to turn him all at once into a coward.  He faced something that made him afraid of more than his life merely.  The doctor spoke a few quick words of encouragement to him, and stroked the bristling hair.  But without much success.  The collie seemed already beyond the reach of comfort such as that, and the collapse of the old dog followed indeed very speedily after this.

And Smoke, meanwhile, remained behind, watching the advance, but not joining in it; sitting, pleased and expectant, considering that all was going well and as it wished.  It was kneading on the carpet with its front paws—­slowly, laboriously, as though its feet were dipped in treacle.  The sound its claws made as they caught in the threads was distinctly audible.  It was still smiling, blinking, purring.

Suddenly the collie uttered a poignant short bark and leaped heavily to one side.  His bared teeth traced a line of whiteness through the gloom.  The next instant he dashed past his master’s legs, almost upsetting his balance, and shot out into the room, where he went blundering wildly against walls and furniture.  But that bark was significant; the doctor had heard it before and knew what it meant:  for it was the cry of the fighter against odds and it meant that the old beast had found his courage again.  Possibly it was only the courage of despair, but at any rate the fighting would be terrific.  And Dr. Silence understood, too, that he dared not interfere.  Flame must fight his own enemies in his own way.