which he had laid aside, and blew through it carefully before answering.
“That?” he said, with what seemed to the boy an affected carelessness. “That? Oh, that’s a common experience. Don’t think about that too much, Mr. Baxter. It’s never very healthy—”
“I am sorry,” said Laurie deliberately. “But I must ask you to tell me what you think. I must know what I’m doing.”
The medium filled his pipe again. Twice he began to speak, and checked himself; and in the long silence Laurie felt his fears gather upon him tenfold.
“Please tell me at once, Mr. Vincent,” he said. “Unless I know everything that is to be known, I will not go another step along this road. I really mean that.”
The medium paused in his pipe-filling.
“And what if I do tell you?” he said in his slow virile voice. “Are you sure you will not be turned back?”
“If it is a well-known danger, and can be avoided with prudence, I certainly shall not turn back.”
“Very well, Mr. Baxter, I will take you at your word. … Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘The Watcher on the Threshold’?”
Laurie shook his head.
“No,” he said. “At least I don’t think so.”
“Well,” said the medium quietly, “that is what we call the Fear you spoke of. … No; don’t interrupt. I’ll tell you all we know. It’s not very much.”