"During the war, when most men were fighting, I was in prison." Again Zoberg grinned, briefly and without cheer. "I had found it easy and inspiring to kill persons, with a sense of added strength following. But they caught me and put me in what they called an asylum. I was supposed to be crazy. They confined me closely, but I, reading books in the library, grew to know what the change was that came upon me at certain intervals. I turned my attention to it, and became able to control the change, bringing it on or holding it off at will." He looked at Susan again. "But I'm ahead of my story. Once, when I was at school, I met a girl--an American student of science and philosophy. She laughed at my wooing, but talked to me about spirits and psychical phenomena. That, my dear Susan, was your mother. When the end of the war brought so many new things, it also brought a different viewpoint toward many inmates of asylums. Some Viennese doctors, and later Sigmund Freud himself, found my case interesting. Of course, they did not arrive at the real truth, or they would not have procured my release." "After that," I supplied, writing swiftly, "you became an expert psychical investigator and journeyed to America." "Yes, to find the girl who had once laughed and studied with me. After some years I came to this town, simply to trace the legend of this Devil's Croft. And here, I found, she had lived and died, and left behind a daughter that was her image." Judge Pursuivant cleared his throat. "I suspect that you're leaving out part of your adventures, Doctor." Zoberg actually laughed. "_Ja_, I thought to spare you a few shocks. But if you will have them, you may. I visited Russia--and in 1922 a medical commission of the Soviet Union investigated several score mysterious cases of peasants killed--and eaten." He licked his lips, like a cat who thinks of meat. "In Paris I founded and conducted a rather interesting night school, for the study of diabolism in its relationship to science. And in 1936, certain summer vacationists on Long Island were almost frightened out of their wits by a lurking thing that seemed half beast, half man." He chuckled. "Your _Literary Digest_ made much of it. The lurking thing was, of course, myself." We stared. "Say, why do you do these things?" the constable blurted. Zoberg turned to him, head quizzically aslant. "Why do you uphold your local laws? Or why does Judge Pursuivant study ancient philosophies? Or why do Wills and Susan turn soft eyes upon each other? Because the heart of each so insists." Susan was clutching my arm. Her fingers bit into my flesh as Zoberg's eyes sought her again. "I found the daughter of someone I once loved," he went on, with real gentleness in his voice. "Wills, at least, can see in her what I saw. A new inspiration came to me, a wish and a plan to have a comrade in my secret exploits." "A beast-thing like yourself?" prompted the judge.