To be sure, there was
a quantity of up-turned earth, the result of Jerome's vigorous
efforts to see whether or not there was any connection between the
Blind Spot phenomena which he had witnessed and the cellar. He had
secured nothing but an appetite for all his digging.
However, it was still too dark for me to identify what I saw at
once. I stood for a few moments, accustoming my eyes to the light.
Except that the thing gleamed oddly like a piece of glass, and
that it possessed a nearly circular outline about two feet across,
I couldn't tell much about it.
Then I stooped and examined it closely. At once I became conscious
of a smell which, somehow, I had hitherto not noticed. Small
wonder; it was as indescribable a smell as one could imagine. It
seemed to be a combination of several that are not generally
combined.
Next instant it flashed upon me that the predominating odour was a
familiar one. I had been smelling it, in fact, all the morning.
But this did not prevent me from feeling very queer, indeed, as I
realised what lay before me. A curious chill passed around my
shoulders, and I scarcely breathed.
At my feet lay a pool, composed of all the various liquids that
had been poured, upstairs, into that baffling spot in the wood.
XXI
OUT OF THIN AIR
Except for the incident just related, when several pints of very
real fluids were somehow "materialised" at a spot ten feet below
where they had vanished, nothing worth recording occurred during
the first seven days of our stay at Chatterton Place.
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