Two and a half years at Murder Point had made Granger undogmatic on problems of metempsychosis, and of the extent to which the barriers which hedge in Man's spiritual life may be pushed back.
It seemed not unlikely to him that there were men whose souls, consciously or unconsciously, either by reason of their crimes or for the better accomplishment of an evil desire, could go out from their bodies while they slept, and be changed into the forms of beasts of prey between sunset and dawn-rise. At all events, this was a phenomenon which could not be disproved, and there were many who believed it true.
So he recalled unjudgingly the story of Jacques, also he remembered an instance still nearer home—that of the Hudson Bay factor, who had prayed to God that he might gaze with his living eyes upon his disembodied soul.
It was not the possibility of the fact which he doubted, but Spurling's motive in telling him such a tale.
Might he not have shown him the gold only in order to regain his friendship, and then have lied to him in order to restrain him from investigating, and, perhaps, with the purpose of sowing distrust in his mind concerning Beorn and Eyelids? Whatever had been his purpose, there was the gold; Granger was determined, in spite of the risk, to see the Forbidden River for himself. Spurling was speaking, "And his eyebrows meet," he said.
Granger knew to what he was referring, for, all the world over, where this belief is current, it is supposed that the werewolf may be detected in his human guise by the meeting of his eyebrows, which appear like wings, as if his soul were prepared for flight.
He was about to reply, when his hand, straying about his throat, chanced upon the silver chain by which the locket of Mordaunt was suspended, which he had stolen from the body of Strangeways. It was like a warning voice, recalling the past, which urged him to distrust this man. Spurling must have seen the change, for he leant over towards him appealingly, as if he were about to entreat him to be patient. With a gesture of annoyance Granger rose to his feet and commenced to walk away; but he halted sharply and drew into the shadow, signing to Spurling to keep quiet. From very far away, borne on the stillness of the night, they could hear the rhythmic beat of several paddle-blades.
Crawling upon his hands and knees, Spurling joined him. "What is it?" he asked. "Is it Eyelids again?" Granger pointed up-river. "They're coming from the west," he whispered, "and there are at least four men by the sound of the blades."
"What men come from the west at this season? Surely, they should be travelling in the opposite direction, going towards God's Voice?"
"They should be, and it is for that reason that I fear for your safety."