And, even as he spoke, a thin line like the track of a water-spider, shot swiftly across the shiny surface; there was a ghost of steam in the air above; and immediately I became aware of an odour of burning.

Dr. Silence turned and shot a glance at me that made me think of lightning.  I began to shake all over.

“Quick!” he cried with excitement, “to the trail again!  We must run around.  It’s going to the house!”

The alarm in his voice quite terrified me.  Without a false step I dashed round the slippery banks and dived again at his heels into the sea of bushes and tree trunks.  We were now in the thick of the very dense belt that ran around the outer edge of the plantation, and the field was near; yet so dark was the tangle that it was some time before the first shafts of white sunlight became visible.  The doctor now ran in zigzags.  He was following something that dodged and doubled quite wonderfully, yet had begun, I fancied, to move more slowly than before.

“Quick!” he cried.  “In the light we shall lose it!”

I still saw nothing, heard nothing, caught no suggestion of a trail; yet this man, guided by some interior divining that seemed infallible, made no false turns, though how he failed to crash headlong into the trees has remained a mystery to me ever since.  And then, with a sudden rush, we found ourselves on the skirts of the wood with the open field lying in bright sunshine before our eyes.

“Too late!” I heard him cry, a note of anguish in his voice.  “It’s out—­and, by God, it’s making for the house!”

I saw the Colonel standing in the field with his dogs where we had left him.  He was bending double, peering into the wood where he heard us running, and he straightened up like a bent whip released.  John Silence dashed passed, calling him to follow.

“We shall lose the trail in the light,” I heard him cry as he ran.  “But quick!  We may yet get there in time!”

That wild rush across the open field, with the dogs at our heels, leaping and barking, and the elderly Colonel behind us running as though for his life, shall I ever forget it?  Though I had only vague ideas of the meaning of it all, I put my best foot forward, and, being the youngest of the three, I reached the house an easy first.  I drew up, panting, and turned to wait for the others.  But, as I turned, something moving a little distance away caught my eye, and in that moment I swear I experienced the most overwhelming and singular shock of surprise and terror I have ever known, or can conceive as possible.

For the front door was open, and the waist of the house being narrow, I could see through the hall into the dining-room beyond, and so out on to the back lawn, and there I saw no less a sight than the figure of Miss Wragge—­running.  Even at that distance it was plain that she had seen me, and was coming fast towards me, running with the frantic gait of a terror-stricken woman.  She had recovered the use of her legs.