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heard it, too,” I argued.
    â€œMaybe you did,” said Dr. Jarvis offhandedly.
    â€œDoctor,” I said, angry. But Dr. Jarvis turned on me before I could tell him how I felt.
    â€œBefore you start censuring me for lack of imagination, just remember that I work here,” he snapped. “Everything I do has to be justified to the hospital board, and if I start raving about demonic possession and eyes that glow red in the dark, I’ll suddenly find that my promotion has been shelved for a while and that I only get half the facilities and finance I need.”
    He came around the bed and faced me directly. In a low, urgent voice, he said, “I saw Mr. Machin’s eyes go red, and so did you. But if we want to do anything about it, anything effective, we’d better keep it quiet. Do you understand?”
    I looked at him curiously. “Are you trying to tell me that you believe he’s really possessed?”
    â€œI’m not trying to tell you anything. I don’t believe in demons and I don’t believe in possession. But I do believe that there’s something wrong here that we need to work out for ourselves, without the knowledge of the hospital.”
    At that moment, Dan stirred and groaned. I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle upright in alarm, but when he spoke, he was obviously back to some kind of normal.
    â€œ John …” he murmured. “ John …”
    I leaned over him. His eyes were only open in slits, and his lips were cracked.
    â€œI’m here, Dan. What’s wrong? How do you feel?”
    â€œ John …” he whispered. “ Don’t let me go …”
    I glanced across at Dr. Jarvis. “It’s okay, Dan. Nobody’s going to let you go.”
    Dan weakly raised one of his hands. “Don’t let me go, John. It’s the heart, John. Don’t let me go .”
    Dr. Jarvis came close. “Your heart? Is your heart feeling bad? Do you have any constriction? Any pain?”
    Dan shook his head, just a fraction of an inch each way. “It’s the heart,” he said, in a voice almost too faint to hear. “It beats and it beats and it beats. It’s still beating. It’s the heart, John, it’s still beating! Still beating! ”
    â€œDan,” I whispered urgently. “Dan, you mustn’t work yourself up like this! Dan, for Christ’s sake!”
    But Dr. Jarvis held me back. Dan was already settling back on to his pillow, and his eyes were closing. His breathing became slow and regular again, slow and painful and heavy, and even though it still reminded me of the breathing we’d heard at Seymour Wallis’s house, he seemed at last to be catching some rest. I stood up straight, and I felt shaken and tired.
    â€œHe should be okay now. At least for an hour or two,” Dr. Jarvis said quietly. “These attacks seem to come at regular ninety-minute intervals.”
    â€œCan you think of any reason for that?” I asked him.
    He shrugged. “There could be any number of reasons. But ninety minutes is the time cycle of REM sleep, the kind of sleep in which people have their most vivid dreams.”
    I looked down at Dan’s drawn and haggard face. “He mentioned dreams to me earlier on,” I said. “He had dreams about doorknockers coming to life, and statues moving. That kind of thing. It was all to do with that house we visited last night.”
    â€œAre you going back there? To the house?” Dr. Jarvis asked.
    â€œI was planning a trip up there this evening. One of my engineering people thinks that what we heard could have been an unusual kind of downdraft. Why?”
    Dr. Jarvis kept his eyes fixed on Dan. “I’d like to come with you, that’s why. There’s something happening here that I don’t understand, and I want to understand it.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “All of a sudden you’re not so sure of