‘I am sure it is the house,—certain! I know it,—I feel it here,—and here.’
Mr Holt touched his breast, and his forehead. His manner was distinctly odd. He was trembling, and a fevered expression had come into his eyes. Sydney glanced at him, for a moment, in silence. Then he bestowed his attention upon me.
‘May I ask if I may rely upon your preserving your presence of mind?’
The mere question ruffled my plumes.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What I say. I am going to knock at that door, and I am going to get through it, somehow. It is quite within the range of possibility that, when I am through, there will be some strange happenings,—as you have heard from Mr Holt. The house is commonplace enough without; you may not find it so commonplace within. You may find yourself in a position in which it will be in the highest degree essential that you should keep your wits about you.’
‘I am not likely to let them stray.’
‘Then that’s all right.—Do I understand that you propose to come in with me?’
‘Of course I do,—what do you suppose I’ve come for? What nonsense you are talking.’
‘I hope that you will still continue to consider it nonsense by the time this little adventure’s done.’