“And what if I do tell you?” he said in his slow virile voice.  “Are you sure you will not be turned back?”

“If it is a well-known danger, and can be avoided with prudence, I certainly shall not turn back.”

“Very well, Mr. Baxter, I will take you at your word....  Have you ever heard the phrase, ’The Watcher on the Threshold’?”

Laurie shook his head.

“No,” he said.  “At least I don’t think so.”

“Well,” said the medium quietly, “that is what we call the Fear you spoke of....  No; don’t interrupt.  I’ll tell you all we know.  It’s not very much.”

He paused again, stretched his hand for the matches, and took one out.  Laurie watched him as if fascinated by the action.

Outside roared Oxford Street in one long rolling sound as of the sea; but within here was that quiet retired silence which the boy had noticed before in the same company.  Was that fancy, too, he wondered...?

The medium lit his pipe and leaned back.

“I’ll tell you all we know,” he said again quietly.  “It’s not very much.  Really the phrase I used just now sums it up pretty well.  We who have tried to get beyond this world of sense have become aware of certain facts of which the world generally knows nothing at all.  One of these facts is that the door between this life and the other is guarded by a certain being of whom we know really nothing at all, except that his presence causes the most appalling fear in those who experience it.  He is set there—­God only knows why—­and his main business seems to be to restrain, if possible, from re-entering the body those who have left it.  Just occasionally his presence is perceived by those on this side, but not often.  But I have been present at death-beds where he has been seen—­”

“Seen?”

“Oh! yes.  Seen by the dying person.  It is usually only a glimpse; it might be said to be a mistake.  For myself I believe that that appalling terror that now and then shows itself, even in people who do not fear death itself, who are perfectly resigned, who have nothing on their conscience,—­well, personally, I believe the fear comes from a sight of this—­this Personage.”

Laurie licked his dry lips.  He told himself that he did not believe one word of it.

“And ... and he is evil?” he asked.

The other shrugged his shoulders.

“Isn’t that a relative term?” he said.  “From one point of view, certainly; but not necessarily from all.”

“And ... and what’s the good of it?”

The medium smiled a little.

“That’s a question we soon cease to ask.  You must remember that we hardly know anything at all yet.  But one thing seems more and more certain the more we investigate, and that is that our point of view is not the only one, nor even the principal one.  Christianity, I fancy, says the same thing, does it not?  The ‘glory of God,’ whatever that may be, comes before even the ‘salvation of souls.’”