communicative about his discovery in the wood. His position as a
parish councillor and justice of the peace seemed somehow
compromised by the fact that he was harbouring a personality of such
doubtful repute on his property; there was even a possibility that a
heavy bill of damages for raided lambs and poultry might be laid at
his door. At dinner that night he was quite unusually silent.

"Where's your voice gone to?" said his aunt. "One would think you
had seen a wolf."

Van Cheele, who was not familiar with the old saying, thought the
remark rather foolish; if he HAD seen a wolf on his property his
tongue would have been extraordinarily busy with the subject.

At breakfast next morning Van Cheele was conscious that his feeling
of uneasiness regarding yesterday's episode had not wholly
disappeared, and he resolved to go by train to the neighbouring
cathedral town, hunt up Cunningham, and learn from him what he had
really seen that had prompted the remark about a wild beast in the
woods. With this resolution taken, his usual cheerfulness partially
returned, and he hummed a bright little melody as he sauntered to
the morning-room for his customary cigarette. As he entered the
room the melody made way abruptly for a pious invocation.
Gracefully asprawl on the ottoman, in an attitude of almost
exaggerated repose, was the boy of the woods. He was drier than
when Van Cheele had last seen him, but no other alteration was
noticeable in his toilet.

"How dare you come here?" asked Van Cheele furiously.