boomed and crashed in deepening peals over the hills.

In a sudden tropical torrent the rain descended, and I stepped forward
into the room. Its occupant rose to his great height to greet me.

"I am Dr. Damar Greefe," he said, and bowed formally.

I made myself known to him in turn, and with a sort of stately
courtesy he set a high-backed chair for me and himself resumed his
former seat.

"You are a stranger to this neighborhood, I gather?" he continued.

Now, in spite of his polished courtesy, there was that about Dr. Damar
Greefe which I did not and could not like. The voice was the voice of
a gentleman, but the face was a mask--a mask of Anubis; and seated
there in that strange untidy apartment, amid varied relics of the past
and obscure experiments possibly designed to pry into the future,
whilst thunder boomed high over the Bell House, I determined to
withhold from Dr. Damar Greefe the true nature of my mission. In fact
already I regretted having told him my name--although to have given a
fictitious one would have been a gross violation of hospitality
unhesitatingly offered.

Even now I find it hard to explain the mingled sentiments which
claimed me on the occasion of this my first meeting with a very
singular man.

"I am taking a brief rest cure," I replied; "and as I am given to
understand that Friar's Park is of much historical interest, I had