He probed carefully at the surface of the marsh. Viscous mud parted, revealing the oily sheen of water in the last of the light. He cast the reed down and joined me on the bank. He pulled at the lobe of his left ear and looked thoughtfully across to where the final shafts of the dying day stained the depths of the marsh.
"A bad place, Parker," he said softly. "No wonder old Grimstone was frightened."_
"It is unpleasant indeed, Pons," I asserted. "Did you discover anything?"
"Nothing of any great significance. Though the terrain here has strengthened the tentative theories I have formed."
And he led the way across a heavy-timbered bridge that spanned a section of ice-bound water. Once on the dyke the dark seemed to encroach and the light was fast disappearing from the sky, the afterglow remaining. Even the birds were silent now and the only sounds were the faint trembling of the wind, our footsteps on the hard-packed mud of the causeway, and the pumping of my own heart.
We followed the heavy wooden handrail that bounded the causeway on either side, while now and again Pons flashed his torch to make sure of our bearings.
"What about this man Tobias Jessel, Pons?" I said as we neared the massive gates of Grimstone Manor. A thin curl of smoke rose from a single chimney in the multitude that jutted from the jumbled roofs of the ancient building.
"Ah, you have realized the significance of that factor, Parker?" said Pons with a thin smile. "I am glad to see that my training has not been wasted. Silence, if you please."
He switched off his torch and grasped me by the arm. We halted in the shadow of some bushes and a few moments later I caught what his keen ears had already picked out; the thin, furtive shuffle of some moving figure ahead.
Pons worked his way forward quietly and I followed, placing my feet with some difficulty as there was so much heavy shrubbery about the manor that it was almost — totally dark now. There was a muffled exclamation and Pons' light flashed on the terrified face of old Silas Grimstone. He wore a heavy padded dressing gown over his indoor clothes and a sort of velvet skullcap.
"Who's there?" he shouted in a quavering voice, screwing up his eyes against the light.
"Solar Pons and Dr. Parker," said my companion, stepping forward.
"Mr. Pons!" the old man stammered, relief in his voice. "I heard a noise and came to investigate."
"Very unwise, Mr. Grimstone," said Pons. "My advice is to stay indoors. If this apparition means you harm, you are playing into its hands by wandering around alone at night like this."
"You are right, Mr. Pons," said Grimstone, putting a shriveled claw on Solar Pons' arm and leading us forward through a large cobbled courtyard surrounded by substantial stone outbuildings. The manor itself looked to be of Tudor construction with plenty of exposed beams, but even in the dim light coming from the windows I could see that it was in deplorable condition.
There was a huge porch of oak beams, sagging and moss-hung, and our client led the way into the house without further ceremony. We found ourselves in a large, musty-smelling hall lit by only one oil lantern hanging from a beam. The floor was composed of rose-colored tiles. I had been prepared for a squalid and uncared-for interior but was surprised to see that things were fairly clean and tolerably tidy.
Silas Grimstone looked at me with a furtive smile, as though he read my thoughts.
"We keep most of the house locked up," he said, slamming the great door behind us and ramming home the bolt as if to emphasize his words. "My niece, whom you will meet in a moment, spends far too much time and money in maintaining the five rooms remaining open."
He turned his back and led the way forward into a large, paneled chamber. Pons smiled faintly at me as we followed.
The drawing room, or whatever Grimstone called it, had a great stone fireplace in which a tolerable fire burned. A few dim oils, portraits mostly, stared somberly at us from the wainscot and the heavy oak furniture made the apartment look more like the taproom of an inn.
Grimstone waved us into two uncomfortable wooden chairs by the fireside and went to sit in a padded armchair opposite.
"This is the room in which you had such an unpleasant experience, Mr. Grimstone?"
"Yes, Mr. Pons."
Pons went forward and drew aside the faded red curtains from the window at Grimstone's back. He looked out into the darkness, his eyes brooding as though he could see across the bleak miles of marsh to the heart of the secret it contained. He examined the window and its frame carefully and then closed the curtains once more.
As he turned away there came the sound of footsteps from the hall outside and Grimstone's niece, Miss Sylvia Grimstone, entered. She was a tall woman of about fifty years of age but, contrary to what I expected, not at all grim and forbidding. In fact she was quite smartly dressed and she bore a tray on which were silver tea-things and plates of buttered scones.
I managed to conceal my consternation when the old man remarked, "You'll take tea with us, of course, Mr. Pons. Allow me to present my niece. Mr. Solar Pons, Dr. Lyndon Parker."
"I am delighted to meet you, gentlemen."
Miss Sylvia Grimstone had a square, strong face and her features were quite pleasant when she smiled, which she did briefly at the introductions.
Silas Grimstone smirked maliciously as I watched the preparations
for tea and rubbed his blue-veined hands together.
"I do not stint myself in the matter of bodily comforts, doctor. That would be foolish at my age, living here on the marsh as we do."
"Very wise," observed Solar Pons, taking a steaming cup Miss Grimstone handed him. "And most welcome in this weather."
His piercing eyes fixed Miss Grimstone thoughtfully as she set down teacups and a plate of buttered scones before her uncle.
"Tell me, Miss Grimstone. What do you make of this apparition which so startled you and Mr. Grimstone here?"
The woman turned a worried face toward us and then she looked rather defiantly, it seemed to me, toward the old man.
"It was more than startling, Mr. Pons. It was terrifying. I have never been so frightened in my life."
"That is understandable," said Pons gently. "But I asked for your impressions."
There was a faint hesitation as the niece put down the silver teapot and seated herself in a carved wooden chair at the apex of a triangle formed by ourselves, Grimstone and herself.
"It was a human figure, in slightly old-fashioned clothing, Mr. Pons. It burned with a blue fire and appeared and disappeared with incredible rapidity."
"Was it a human figure or did it appear to you a supernatural phenomenon?"
Miss Grimstone shook her head.
"I do not know what to think."
"That is honest at any rate."
Pons turned back to Grimstone.
"I shall be in touch with you daily, Mr. Grimstone. In the meantime do not stir outside at night. Bolt and bar your doors. You may reach me at the inn by telephone if you wish to communicate with me urgently."
"Very well, Mr. Pons. What will you be doing?"
"I shall not be idle, Mr. Grimstone. I propose to take a walk round the marshes in the morning and may drop by here. Incidentally, I met your family physician, Dr. Strangeways earlier today. In fact he gave us a lift to Stavely."
Silas Grimstone smiled sourly.
"He is my physician no longer, Mr. Pons. I found his services far from satisfactory."
Once again a somewhat disapproving look passed from niece to uncle.
"Nevertheless, Mr. Grimstone, it seems likely that he will be an invaluable witness to what goes on in the marshes. He tells me for instance that one of his patients has seen this fiery figure of yours."