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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Black Box"

What is it, I wonder? I ask you but I think I know. It is the
conviction that there is some alien presence, something disturbing lurking
close at hand."
He suddenly rose to his feet, pushed his chair back and walked to the
window, which opened level with the ground. He threw it up and listened.
The others came over and joined him. There was nothing to be heard but the
distant hooting of an owl, and farther away the barking of some farmhouse
dog. Lord Ashleigh stood there with straining eyes, gazing out across the
park.
"There was something here," he muttered, "something which has gone. What's
that? Quest, your eyes are younger than mine. Can you see anything
underneath that tree?"
Quest peered out into the grey darkness.
"I fancied I saw something moving in the shadow of that oak," he muttered.
"Wait."
He crossed the terrace, swung down on to the path, across a lawn, over a
wire fence and into the park itself. All the time he kept his eyes fixed
on a certain spot. When at last he reached the tree, there was nothing
there. He looked all around him. He stood and listened for several
moments. A more utterly peaceful night it would be hard to imagine. Slowly
he made his way back to the house.
"I imagine we are all a little nervous to-night," he remarked. "There's
nothing doing out there."
They strolled about for an hour or more, looking into different rooms,
showing their guest the finest pictures, even taking him down into the
wonderful cellars.


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