And there was something in the lightness and youth of his vanishing gesture that seemed really like Icarus spurning the earth, the first man to mount upon wings.
Perhaps this literally flying figure shone the more vividly in their memories because, when they saw it again, it was in a subtle sense changed. When the other two next saw Hilary Pierce on the steps of the Air Ministry, they were conscious that his manner was a little quieter, but his wild eye rather wilder than usual. They adjourned to a neighbouring restaurant and talked of trivialities while luncheon was served; but the Colonel, who was a keen observer, was sure that Pierce had suffered some sort of shock, or at least some sort of check. While they were considering what to say Pierce himself said abruptly, staring at a mustard-pot on the table:
“What do you think about spirits?�
“Never touch ’em,� said the Colonel. “Sound port never hurt anybody.�
“I mean the other sort,� said Pierce. “Things like ghosts and all that.�
“I don’t know,� said Owen Hood. “The Greek for it is agnosticism. The Latin for it is ignorance. But have you really been dealing with ghosts and spirits down at poor White’s parsonage?�
“I don’t know,� said Pierce gravely.
“You don’t mean you really think you saw something!� cried Hood sharply.
“There goes the agnostic!� said Pierce with a rather weary smile. “The minute the agnostic hears a bit of real agnosticism he shrieks out that it’s superstition. I say I don’t know whether it was a spirit. I also say I don’t know what the devil else it was if it wasn’t. In plain words, I went down to that place convinced that poor White had got some sort of delusions. Now I wonder whether it’s I that have got the delusions.�
He paused a moment and then went on in a more collected manner: