The cold air from the sea stung our cheeks sharply as we left the close
atmosphere of the little crowded tent. The sighing of the trees, the
waves breaking below on the rocks, and the lines and patches of mist
driving about us seemed to create the momentary illusion that the whole
island had broken loose and was floating out to sea like a mighty raft.
The doctor moved just ahead of me, quickly and silently; he was making
straight for the Canadian's tent where the sides still boomed and shook
as the creature of sinister life raced and tore about impatiently
within. A little distance from the door he paused and held up a hand to
stop me. We were, perhaps, a dozen feet away.
"Before I release it, you shall see for yourself," he said, "that the
reality of the werewolf is beyond all question. The matter of which it
is composed is, of course, exceedingly attenuated, but you are partially
clairvoyant--and even if it is not dense enough for normal sight you
will see something."
He added a little more I could not catch.
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