“Why, it’s childishly simple! David was knocked over by a force, an influence, to which he is unaccustomed. He is not at all a drinking man, you understand. Quite the reverse. With him the effect of drink would not be in the least like ordinary intoxication. From two former experiences I know that it would be far subtler. It would produce what you would call a pseudo-hypnosis, a condition of abnormal psychology.”
“Well?”
“Don’t you see what happened?”
“I have not had your experience with David,” was the sarcastic reply.
“It is not a question of mere personal experience,” said Raoul irritably; “it involves what we know—or guess—of the eccentricities of the human soul.”
“You are an enthusiast. Be more explicit. Don’t wander off in your statements.”
“Very well. I’ll put it in the lingo of science as nearly as I can. It appears to me, then, that David, by this little exchange of pistol shots, as you call them, with General Herran, brought into activity a portion of his brain that had not, for a number of years, intruded itself upon his conscious life. It had literally been sleeping all that time. On the last occasion when it was awake—when, in other words, he was under the sway of this subconscious ego—he was here, amid the very scenes in which he again finds himself. A moment ago you connected his first disappearance with the one which has just taken place on the road from Honda. Well, the General’s ‘pistol,’ as he calls it, suddenly threw David back into the memory of that first subconscious experience.”
“The Ghost of the Forgotten found at last,” mused Leighton, more to himself than to Raoul.
“Exactly! That’s a good way to put it.”