It was that of a
powerfully built man, on whose wrists were curious red circles.
And Chick shouted in a great voice:
"Hobart!"
And then came blackness.
XLVII
THE LAST LEAF
Watson's story was now completed. During the entire recital his
auditors had spoken scarcely a word. It had been marvellous--
almost a revelation. With the possible exception of Sir Henry
Hodges, not one had expected that it would measure up to this. For
the whole thing backed up Holcomb's original proposition:
"The Occult is concrete."
Certainly, if what Watson had told them was true, then Infinity
had been squared by itself. Not only was there an infinity that we
might look up to through the stars, but there was another just as
great, co-existent, here upon the earth. The occult became not
only possible, but unlimited.
The next few minutes would prove whether or not he had told the
truth.
It was now close to midnight.
Jerome and General Hume had returned from Berkeley. Their quest
had been successful; Watson now had the missing green stone. A
number of soldiers were stationed about the house. Watson noted
these men when he had finished his account, and said:
"Good. We may need them, although I hope not. Fortunately the Spot
is small, and a few of us can hold it against a good many. What we
must do is to extricate our friends and close it. Afterward we may
have time for more leisurely investigation.
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