Instinctively I knew that here was the source of my alarm. It was something that my subconscious self had picked up from him. He was sitting motionless in his chair, his hand that held his cigar half raised to his lips, staring away into the distant gardens.
There is something bad for the spirit in the sight of an entirely motionless figure. The reason is simply that it is out of accord with nature—that the very soul of things, from the tree on the hill to the stars in the sky, is motion never ending. A figure suddenly changed to stone focuses the attention much more surely than any sudden sound or movement. Perhaps it has its origin in the deep-hidden instincts, harking back to those long ago times when the sudden arresting of all motion on the part of the companion indicated the presence of some great danger and an attempt to escape its gaze. Even to-day it indicates a thought so compelling that the half-unconscious physical functions are suspended: a fear or a sensation so violent that life seems to die in the body.
Van Hope couldn’t get his cigar to his lips. He held it between his fingers, a few inches in front. He was watching so intently that his face looked absolutely blank. A little shiver that was some way related to fear passed over me, and I had all the sensations of being violently startled. Then Van Hope suddenly got to his feet with a short, low exclamation.
Our nerves on edge, instantly all three of us were beside him—Weldon, myself, and Joe Nopp. All of us tried to follow his gaze into the gloom. “What is it?” Weldon asked.
Van Hope, seemingly scarcely aware of us before, instantly rallied his faculties and turned to us. In a single instant he had wrenched back complete self-control—an indication of self-mastery such as I had rarely seen surpassed. He smiled a little, in the gloom, and dropped his hand to his side.
“I suppose it was nothing,” he answered. “I guess I’m jumpy. Maybe half asleep. But I saw some one—walking through the gardens down by the lagoon.”
Van Hope spoke rather lightly, in a wholly commonplace voice. He had not been, however, half asleep. The frozen face I had seen was of complete wakefulness.
“A man, you say—down by the lagoon?” Weldon asked.
“Yes. Of course there’s always a chance for a mistake. Probably it wouldn’t be anything anyway—just one of the men getting a little air. Watch a minute—maybe you’ll see him again.”