A white bone, six inches long, the broadened knobs at each end a little darker than the rest—horizontal, perfectly still.
Perhaps I had gazed at this thing in fascination for twenty or thirty seconds before it stirred at all. Then the faintest swinging motion seemed to occur, on a horizontal plane, and suddenly—now my heart was going mad—it rose a couple of feet as if jerked by a string, and remained motionless once more, until the swinging recommenced, one end and then the other moving slightly toward me and away.
The comforting tones of voices had died; it might have been that I and that apparition were alone in the Vale, a man and a white irrational bone. I was of no mind to linger there until the thing should leap up again and drive me into an apoplexy. And all the while the basis of reason in me was firm, and there was a voice bidding me quit my folly, for there could be no bone in the unsupporting air of the Hall. Yet I did not enter the chamber and get within the same walls as the apparition; instead I abandoned the place to its ghostly visitant, hastened around to the front entrance of the House and rang the bell, although the door itself was unlatched.
I wanted hot water for shaving.
Soames, answering the ring, I met at the foot of the winding staircase. My voice, I believe, was controlled out of its excitement when I ordered the water, which he promised to bring at once.
It was with a doubtful, distracted mind that I entered my room and caused a tiny apex of flame to glow on the fresh candles standing at either side of my writing-table. For a breath of open air, I swung the casement window inward. The breeze, forerunner of storm, brushed past outside, but no more than writhed the candle-flames.
I looked out.
As I have stated, my window gives on what I suppose I must call the balcony, though part of the ancient battlement stands there in lieu of a balustrade, remnant of an age before even this room was built and when the top of the wall was no higher than the window-sill. Odd that the old parapet with its indentations remained when this lofty course of rooms was made. This wall above the second storey cut off my view of the lawn, save where a gap of the crenellation permitted me to look almost straight down to the drive. Directly below me I now saw nothing, and far beyond the gate-house towers, rising to the level of the roof of the mansion, was only the dusky dark expanse to Aidenn Water. But about the twin-legged gate-house itself the afterglow lingered in a tiny pool.
I suddenly remembered Crofts’ admonition to have a look at the tomb on Vron Hill, and my promise that I would. With an athletic effort I squeezed through my window and stood on the roof outside. To my disappointment, the sky beyond the Hill was darkened with clouds whose purple came near to black. The tumulus was indistinguishable against them.
I moved to the edge of the parapet and leaned over one of the cops of the crenelled wall for a better look about.