Billy shuffled slowly round and the two sat side by side, facing the fog-draped chamber.
"It was like this," he began softly, "only I was standing instead of sitting, looking over to that door as you and I do now. Hyman moved to and fro in the faint glow of the gas logs against the far wall, playing that 'crepuscular' thing in his most inspired sort of way, so that the music seemed to issue from himself rather than from the shining bit of wood under his chin, when--I noticed something coming over me that was"--he hesitated, searching for words--"that wasn't _all_ due to the music," he finished abruptly.
"His personality put a bit of hypnotism on you, eh?"
"The air was thickish with fog and the light was dim, cast upwards upon him from the stove," he continued. "I admit all that. But there wasn't light enough to throw shadows, you see, and----"
"Hyman looked queer?" the other helped him quickly.
"Changed there before my very eyes"--he whispered it--"turned animal----"
"That's the only way I can put it. His face and hands and body turned otherwise than usual. I lost the sound of his feet. When the bow-hand or the fingers on the strings passed into the light, they were"--he uttered a soft, shuddering little laugh--"furry, oddly divided, the fingers massed together. And he paced stealthily. I thought every instant the fiddle would drop with a crash and he would spring at me across the room."
"He moved with those big, lithe, striding steps one sees"--John held his breath in the little pause, listening keenly--"one sees those big brutes make in the cages when their desire is aflame for food or escape, or--or fierce, passionate desire for anything they want with their whole nature----"
"And every minute getting nearer and nearer to the door, as though he meant to make a sudden rush for it and get out."
"With the violin! Of course you stopped him?"
"In the end. But for a long time, I swear to you, I found it difficult to know what to do, even to move. I couldn't get my voice for words of any kind; it was like a spell."
"It _was_ a spell," suggested John firmly.
"Then, as he moved, still playing," continued the other, "he seemed to grow smaller; to shrink down below the line of the gas. I thought I should lose sight of him altogether. I turned the light up suddenly. There he was over by the door--crouching."