“We’ll insert the end of the wedge first--say in some public print, now. How would this look? We have it on good authority that Mr. Trender, our esteemed fellow-townsman, is the lucky discoverer of----” “Be silent, you!” My father spoke fiercely; then added in a low tone: “D’ye wish all the world to know?” “Not by any means,” said the other, quietly, “and they shan’t if you fall in with my mood.” “If I only once had your head in the mill wheel,” groaned my father, with a curse. “Now, harken! I don’t put much value on your threat; but this I’ll allow that I court no interference with my manner of life. Take the concession for what it is worth. Come to me by and by and you shall have another.” “A couple,” said the doctor. “Very well--no more, though I rot for it--and take my blessing with them.” “When shall I come?” said the doctor, ignoring the very equivocal benediction. “Come to-night--no, to-morrow,” said my father, and turning on his heel strode heavily off toward the town. I heard the doctor chuckling softly with a malignant triumph in his note. I clenched my teeth and fists and would have risen had not Zyp noiselessly prevented me. It was wormwood to me; the revelation that, for some secret cause, my father, the strong, irresistible and independent, was under the thumb of an alien. But the doctor walked off and I fell silent. On our homeward way we came across Jason lying on his back under a tree, but he took no notice of us nor answered my call, and Zyp stamped her foot when I offered to delay and speak to him. Nevertheless I noticed that more than once she looked back, as long as he was in view, to see if he was moved to any curiosity as to our movements, which he never appeared to be in the least. Great clouds had been gathering all the afternoon, and now the first swollen drops of an advancing thunderstorm spattered in the dust outside the yard. Inside it was as dark as pitch, and I had almost to grope my way along the familiar passages. Zyp ran away to her own den. Suddenly, with a leap of the blood, I saw that some faintly pallid object stood against the door of the room of silence as I neared it. It was only with an effort I could proceed, and then the thing detached itself and was resolved into the white face of my brother Modred. “Is that you, Renny?” he said, in a loud, tremulous voice. “Yes,” I answered, very shakily myself. “What in the name of mystery are you doing there?” “I feel queer,” he said. “Let’s get to the light somewhere.” We made our way to the back, opened the door leading on to the little platform and stood looking at the stringed rain. Modred’s face was ghastly and his eyes were awakened to an expression that I had never thought them capable of. “You’ve been in there?” I said. “Yes,” he whispered.