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Updated: May 26, 2025
Sangree hesitated a moment, as though the question took him by surprise. But he met the doctor's gaze unflinchingly across the fire, and with complete honesty. "Really," he faltered, with a little shrug of the shoulders, "I can hardly tell you. The phrase seemed to come out of its own accord.
Only Sangree felt otherwise, I suppose, for presently we heard him sighing; and I can well imagine that he absorbed the whole wonder and passion of the scene into his aching heart, to swell the pain there that was more searching even than the pain at the sight of such matchless and incomprehensible beauty. The splash of a fish jumping broke the spell.
"We didn't wake you for fear of getting the whole Camp up," he went on, meaning, by the Camp, I supposed, Sangree. "It was just before dawn when the screams woke me." "The dog again?" I asked, with a curious sinking of the heart. "Got right into the tent," he went on, speaking passionately but very low, "and woke my wife by scrambling all over her.
He glanced from one to the other, smiling. "You tell it, Mr. Hubbard," Sangree interrupted abruptly, and went off a little way to wash the dishes, yet not so far as to be out of earshot. And while he splashed with the hot water, and scraped the tin plates with sand and moss, my voice, unbroken by a single question from Dr.
"There are footmarks all round the mouth of my tent," he said with excitement. "The animal has been here again in the night. Dr. Silence, you really must come and see them for yourself. They're as plain on the moss as tracks in snow." But later in the day, while Sangree went off in the canoe to fish the pools near the larger islands, and Joan still lay, bandaged and resting, in her tent, Dr.
"I am quite certain I know what it is," he replied very low, for we heard the footsteps of Sangree approaching, "though I am not so certain yet as to the best means of dealing with it. But in any case it is not wise to leave precipitately " "Oh, Timothy, does he think it's a devil ?" cried the Bo'sun's Mate in a voice that even the Canadian must have heard.
There was no need to speak of Sangree, or of any one else, until we knew a little more. "The fundamental fact in this most curious case," he went on, "is that the 'Double' of a man " "You mean the astral body? I've heard of that, of course," broke in Maloney with a snort of triumph.
But now, follow me closely," he added, "for we must waste no time if I am to save this poor man from his affliction and lead his werewolf Double to its rest. And, unless I am much mistaken" he peered at me through the darkness, whispering with the utmost distinctness "Joan and Sangree are absolutely made for one another. And I think she knows it too just as well as he does."
And, without further speech, or attempt at explanation, Maloney moved off abruptly to mix the porridge for an early breakfast; Sangree to clean the fish; myself to chop wood and tend the fire; Joan and her mother to change their wet garments; and, most significant of all, to prepare her mother's tent for its future complement of two.
The realisation that Sangree lay confined in that narrow space with this species of monstrous projection of himself that he was wrapped there in the cataleptic sleep, all unconscious that this thing was masquerading with his own life and energies added a distressing touch of horror to the scene.
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