"Yes," said David. A vivid flash of understanding had come to him. "Bell shall do as I tell him. Come along."
"Hold him up, dear doggies," Enid murmured. "Hold him up and I'll love both of you for ever."
CHAPTER XV
A MEDICAL OPINION
David Steel followed his guide with the feelings of the man who has given himself over to circumstances. There was a savour of nightmare about the whole thing that appealed distinctly to his imagination. The darkness, the strange situation, the vivid streaks of the crimson blinds—the crimson blind that seemed an integral part of the mystery—all served to stimulate him. The tragic note was deepened by the whine and howling of the dogs.
"There is a man over there," David whispered.
"A man who is going to stay there," Enid said, with grim satisfaction. "It is virtually necessary that Mr. Reginald Henson should not be disturbed. The dogs have a foolish weakness for his society. So long as he shows no signs of boredom he is safe."
David smiled with a vague grasp of the situation. Apparently the cue was to be surprised at nothing that he saw about the House of the Silent Sorrow. The name of Reginald Henson was more or less familiar to him as that of a man who stood high in public estimation. But the bitter contempt in his companion's voice suggested that there was another side to the man's character.
"I hope you are not asking me to do anything wrong," David murmured.
"I am absolutely certain of it," the girl said. "It is a case of the end justifying the means; and if ever the end justified the means, it does in this case. Besides—"