He moved into High Holborn like a man in a dream, and stood for a few seconds watching the faces of the passers-by.
"And not one of them seems to realise that the spirit world is all around them," he reflected.
He never thought of disobeying the commands he had received. The voice had come to him with a note of authority; the message was one which must be obeyed.
Slowly he made his way westward again, and presently came to a post office. He entered without hesitation, wrote a telegram, gave it to the clerk, and, having paid for its dispatch, again made his way along the street.
"There, that's done with," he said, with a sigh of relief.
At nine o'clock that night he found himself in Drury Lane following the instructions he had received. He was quite calm, although his heart throbbed with expectancy. He had little or no thought of what he was going to see or hear; enough for him that he was obeying instructions, that he was acting upon the commands which had come to him for his good. For he had no doubt that these commands were somehow for his benefit. Almost unconsciously he associated the presence near him with the one who had hovered over him with arms outstretched when he had been sinking in the stormy sea.
He had no difficulty in finding Blot Street, and quickly found himself at the third turning of that shabby-looking thoroughfare.
"Chainley Alley," he read in the dim light of the darkened street lamp at the corner.
The place was very quiet. He was now away from the traffic of the broad streets, and ordinary business had ceased for the day. There was nothing to mark Chainley Alley from a hundred others which may still be found in the centre of London. It was simply a dark, grimy little opening which, to the ordinary passer-by, presented no interest whatever. A minute later he stood at 13a. All was dark here, and it was with difficulty that he discerned the number. He listened intently, but heard no sound, and then, with a fast-beating heart, he knocked five times in quick succession. Then, waiting five seconds, he knocked again according to instructions.
The door opened as if by magic. It might seem that he was expected. But the passage into which he looked was as black as ink; neither could he hear anything.