The large man seemed to come to a decision. He reached inside his jacket and pulled something from round his neck. It gleamed in the firelight as he drew it over his head. A metal chain, silver perhaps, Stobbold thought. And attached to it was a small figure, also silver. Nepath leaned forward and held out the necklace. The Doctor reached across and took it. He held it up so that everyone could see it as he examined the small figure.
'A good luck charm?'
'I suppose so. It has certain sentimental values.'
The Doctor hefted it experimentally. 'Heavy. Silver?'
Nepath nodded, watching as the Doctor handed the figure and the chain to Stobbold. It was a male figure, naked with a large belly overhanging thin legs, about an inch and a half tall. The face was round, the features intricately cast in the heavy metal. On its head the figure wore a head*dress, like a crown, but made of fire. The chain was threaded through a hole in the centre of tallest tongue of flame. The figure was certainly not attractive, but there was something intriguing about it, a quality that drew the eye, inspired the curiosity. Almost reluctantly, Stobbold passed it to Lord Urton.
Urton took the figure and passed it straight on to his wife. She too did not even look at it, but handed it directly to Gaddis.
'I obtained it in southern India,' Nepath said, watching Gaddis's interest keenly. 'It is a representation of the god Agni.'
'God of fire,' the Doctor said.
Nepath's attention snapped towards him. 'You are are well informed.' well informed.'
'As I said, I have travelled.' The Doctor leaned forward so as to point out features to Gaddis, who held the figure dangling from the chain so that all could see it. 'His belly is full because fire consumes everything. Note the flames on the head*dress. They assumed there was an essentially human form for the gods of the elements. Anthropomorphism in their deities.'
Nepath too was watching the small figure as it spun slightly on the chain, reflecting the light from its polished surfaces. 'Wherever there is fire, Agni is born,' he said. There was a note of reverence in his voice unmistakable to Stobbold. Because he is present in every home, he can hear all secrets,' Nepath went on.
Dobbs took the necklace from Gaddis and returned it to Nepath. 'Superstitious mumbo*jumbo,' he said. 'Though I dare say the silversmiths make a profit from it.'
Stobbold could see from Nepath's expression that the man was not amused. 'In your scientific scientific opinion,' Nepath said shortly. opinion,' Nepath said shortly.
Dobbs nodded dumbly, apparently taken aback by the strength of Nepath's retort. Stobbold quickly intervened. 'I do apologise,' he said to Lord Urton, 'but I shall shortly have to take my leave.' He folded his napkin and placed it beside his empty plate. He smiled round at the others. 'It is my daughter's seventeenth birthday today. I promised I would return and bid her good night. She does not like to be kept up late.'
In response, the Doctor pulled a watch from his waistcoat pocket and consulted it. 'Indeed,' he agreed, nodding his head emphatically. Stobbold could see the face of the watch clearly the white background, the Roman numerals. But it had no hands. 'How the time goes,' the Doctor added as he returned it to his pocket and for a moment his eyes met Stobbold's. Then he folded his napkin, set it down exactly as Stobbold had, and stood up. He gently pulled on the back of Stobbold's chair encouraging him to stand. 'We must be on our way,' he said to the assembled diners.
Stobbold turned as he rose, the question obvious on his face.
The Doctor frowned in response. When he spoke, his voice was an impossibly quiet whisper. Stobbold seemed to hear it inside his head rather than through the air. 'I am sorry,' the Doctor murmured. 'I understood that Lord Urton had agreed with you that I should lodge at the Rectory.'
And, because it seemed such a reasonable request, because it seemed merely to confirm how Urton's manners and humour had deserted him, because he did not wish to embarrass the Doctor or Lord Urton or the others, Stobbold said: 'Of course, Doctor. We must be on our way. Betty will be wondering where we have got to.'
Everyone else rose to their feet to bid their farewells. Lord and Lady Urton were reserved and clinical in their demeanour as throughout the meal. Both Dobbs and Gaddis seemed genuinely friendly. Nepath was polite, but beneath his smile was a hard edge, a suppressed anger. It was only as they finished shaking hands and made their way to the door that it occurred to Stobbold that they had all assumed that the Doctor was his guest, that they were together. Yet Nepath had asked the Doctor his name. And neither Lord nor Lady Urton had made any allusion to seeing the Doctor again soon, or given an indication that they had met before.
The realisation caused Stobbold to pause just inside the dining room door. Mrs Webber was standing in the doorway, ready to see them out. He turned back to face the Doctor. The Doctor had also paused, his head cocked slightly to one side as his eyes again met Stobbold's. As if Stobbold had given him the idea he turned back towards the table.
'I understand that Professor Dobbs and Mr Gaddis must also find accommodation.' As they nodded their agreement, the Doctor turned back to Stobbold. 'Perhaps they would be glad of a lift?' But there was more in his meaning than in his words.
Stobbold cleared his throat. 'Of course,' he said. 'They are welcome to join us at the Rectory, if they do not mind being a little cramped. It is not,' he said pointedly, 'a large house. But what room we have is of course at the disposal of our friends.'
Dobbs and Gaddis exchanged glances. Dobbs murmured a few words which Stobbold did not catch, and then both men rose to their feet.
'You are too kind, sir,' Dobbs said. He looked from Lord Urton to Nepath, his feelings apparent. 'Extremely hospitable.'
Nepath seemed to grow larger at the implication. He drew himself upright and turned to face Stobbold. For a moment, for a split second, something in his attitude made Stobbold shudder. But then Nepath's face split into a smile. 'I feel awkward, I confess, at having been the instigator, however unwittingly and unwillingly, of these gentlemen's situation.' He was holding the tiny figure of Agni in his hand, extending that hand towards Stobbold as he approached. 'Your daughter's birthday, you say?'
Stobbold nodded. He made to speak, but his throat felt hot, constricted and no sounds came out. He found himself taking the necklace from Nepath.
'Give her this,' Nepath said. 'With my... blessing. A gift. Recompense in some small manner for your enforced hospitality.'
'Thank you,' he stammered. 'But surely... Great sentimental value, you said...'
Nepath dismissed the objection with a wave of his hand. 'My collection of such trinkets is enormous,' he purred. 'I can spare you a little good luck, I think.' He reached out and put his hand under Stobbold's, folding Stobbold's fingers round the pendant.
Stobbold was aware of Gaddis and Dobbs now standing beside him at the door. The Doctor was waiting in the corridor outside with Mrs Webber. Stobbold looked down at his closed fist, and drew a deep breath. Then he pushed the necklace into his pocket, nodded to Nepath, and hastened from the room. Behind him he could hear a log shifting in the grate the sudden flurry of disintegrating wood and the hiss of rising sparks.
Chapter Six.
By the Light of the Fire A light sprinkling of snow misted the late evening sky. Dobbs and Stobbold watched as the Doctor and Gaddis hefted the luggage on to Stobbold's cart. Once loaded, there was little room for anyone but Stobbold himself.
'Don't worry,' the Doctor assured him. 'The walk will do us good.' He seemed to know the way to the Rectory.
'I'll ask Betty to make up rooms for you. They should be ready by the time you and your colleagues arrive,' Stobbold said as he took the reins.
'Colleagues?' The Doctor frowned. Then his face cleared. 'Of course, yes,' he said.
A thought occurred to Stobbold, as he encouraged the horse to start moving. 'Don't you have a coat?' he asked. The man was standing there in only his jacket, snow scratching at its surface and evaporating.
'I did have one, once,' the Doctor said. 'And a hat. But they weren't really my style. So I picked this up instead.' He gestured down at the bottle*green velvet. 'It seems much more me. somehow.' He turned back to Dobbs and Gaddis.
It took Stobbold only a few minutes to get back home. The snow was beginning to settle on the driveway as he stabled the horse and called for Betty to help him with the bags. He could have left them until the others arrived, but that was less than hospitable.
Betty stood in the doorway and watched as he reached down the last of the luggage. 'I take it,' she said, 'that these are not birthday gifts from Lord and Lady Urton.'
'You take it correctly, my dear.' He caught his breath in the cold air and went to kiss her. He could feel her stiffen as she awaited an explanation. 'We have guests,' he said. 'I'm sorry.'
'How many?'
'Three. Betty, darling, there was nothing I could do. They need somewhere to stay.'
She regarded him for a moment in the moonlight. A flake of snow landed on his shoulder and she brushed it off. She sighed. 'Of course not,' she said. 'It's a cold night.' She smiled weakly. 'I'll make up beds. I think we have enough sheets.'
'Thank you.' He collected the first of the luggage and struggled with it into the house. 'I don't know what I'd do without you.'
She was already disappearing upstairs. 'Nor do I,' he heard her say. 'But maybe one day we shall find out.'
He smiled as he returned for the rest of the cases. It did not occur to him that she might not be joking.
The snow was deep enough now for them to leave footprints. She could see the faint trail of dark blotches behind the three men as they approached the Rectory. She stood at the window of a small bedroom, shaking a pillow into its case. The pale light within the room reflected her image back at her white face framed by dark hair. She could only make out the vague shape of herself as she focused through the glass on the approaching men.
As she watched, one of them, the one with long dark hair, suddenly threw back his head and laughed silently. She could imagine the sound, the humour and mirth and life in it. She could tell he was not from anywhere nearby. She could tell he had a life, interesting things to do, interesting people to meet and places to go.
The men passed beneath the window, out of sight as they reached the door. Just their footprints were left, fading beneath the virgin snow that fell into them. She refocused on the glass in the window, on her reflection, and tried to smile. Her image did not smile back.
Drawing a deep breath, she turned and threw the pillow on to the bed, pummelling it into shape.
Despite himself, Professor Dobbs was enjoying the conversation. The Doctor showed a remarkable grasp of the latest discoveries and a keen interest in Dobbs's opinion of them. He also seemed exceptionally curious about Gaddis's fields of expertise.
'You pick up some resonance, some vibration or feeling from other people?' the Doctor asked as Gaddis explained about how he had felt no emotional feedback from Lord Urton.
They were approaching the Rectory and their feet were melting holes in the thin crisp of snow adhering to the gravel driveway.
'Nothing. And again, when Lady Urton joined us for dinner nothing.'
'Yet you discerned her emotions, her tension with her husband earlier, you said.' The Doctor nodded as he walked, head down. staring at the snow. 'How curious.'
'It's a rare gift,' Gaddis agreed. But Dobbs thought the Doctor had been referring to the emotional state of the Urtons.
'A question of tuning, I suspect,' the Doctor said. He looked up and smiled, his face caught in the moonlight as it reflected off the gathering snow. 'I think we are all aware of the emotions of others, tipped off by a million signals and receivers. Clues we have either forgotten or never knew how to interpret.'
'Oh?' Gaddis seemed unsure.
'And you are lucky enough to be tuned into this non*verbal communication.'
'There you are Gaddis,' Dobbs said with a snort of laughter. 'A scientific, rational explanation for this gift of yours.'
'An interesting theory, no more,' Gaddis replied with a sniff of disdain. 'I think there is more to it than that.'
At this the Doctor threw back his head and laughed. 'You're right of course,' he said through his sudden mirth. 'There is always more to it than that.' As abruptly, he was serious again. They were almost at the door now, and the Doctor turned to Gaddis. 'What do you get from me?' he asked, his voice a hush of mist in the cold night.
'From Lord Urton, I got nothing,' Gaddis said slowly. 'And later from lady Urton too.'
The Doctor nodded with an eagerness that contrasted with his slight frown.
'From you...' Gaddis paused, his eyes narrowing in concentration. 'From you, Doctor, I get too much.'
The door was opening, and the Reverend Matthew Stobbold welcomed them into his house.
Both weary from a day's travel, Dobbs and Gaddis took their leave of Stobbold and the Doctor almost immediately. Stobbold helped them with their luggage and Betty showed them to the rooms she had prepared.
It was only as he returned downstairs that Stobbold realised that they had taken all the luggage to Dobbs's and Gaddis's rooms. He found the Doctor in an armchair in the drawing room. He was leaning forward, chin resting on his cupped hand as he stared into the dying embers of the fire. Stobbold raked through the cinders, sending up a shower of sparks, then added more coal.
'I could not help remarking,' he said as he took the armchair opposite the Doctor, 'that you seem to have no luggage.'
The Doctor did not move. His attention was still firmly fixed on the fire. 'Mmm,' he murmured. 'Just one small box. I prefer to travel light.'
They sat in silence for several moments, Stobbold unsure quite what to say. It was the Doctor who broke the silence. 'Won't you introduce me to your charming daughter?' he asked.
Startled, Stobbold turned, and found Betty standing in the doorway. He was not sure how long she had been there, but she was leaning against the door frame, watching him.
'I'm sorry, Betty. I was just...' His voice tailed off. He was not altogether sure what he had been doing. He stood, and went to his daughter. Behind him the Doctor was also getting to his feet. 'This is the Doctor.'
Betty nodded. She was smiling, a genuine smile, not just a formality born of politeness. 'Doctor,' she acknowledged.
He gave a short bow. His mouth twitched into what might have been a smile. 'I'm afraid,' he said gravely, 'that I haven't brought you a present.'
She laughed. Stobbold loved his daughter's laugh. He had forgotten how much until he heard it again above the crackle of the fire. And he found that he was laughing too.
'That's quite all right, Doctor,' Betty said. 'It's the thought that counts.'
'I know, I know,' the Doctor assured her. 'And thoughts are so much more difficult than gifts.'
'Gifts, of course.' Stobbold exclaimed. 'I'm so sorry, my dear. I have something for you' He went out to the hall in search of his coat. 'I had forgotten.'
'But, father, you've already '
'Oh, not from me.' He rummaged through his pockets, coming at last upon the pendant. 'It's from Mr Nepath.' He examined the figure on its chain as he came back into the drawing room. 'Though whether you will appreciate it...' he began dubiously.
Betty was already lifting the ornament from his hand, holding it up to twirl in the firelight. 'It's beautiful,' she said. The light reflected off the surfaces of the silver, glittering in her eyes. 'Such detail...' Carefully, she lifted the thin chain and hung it around her neck, continuing to look down at the small figure resting on her blouse.
'It's some Indian god,' Stobbold explained. 'Their god of fire, apparently.'
'Agni,' the Doctor said from across the room. The name sounded harsh and ugly when he said it. Betty let go of the figure.
'Thank you,' she said.
'Well, as I say, it's from Nepath,' Stobbold reminded her. 'But happy birthday.'
'It's lovely.' She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. 'Thank you for everything, father.' Then she turned and walked quickly from the room. 'See you in the morning,' her voice floated back to them, followed by the sound of her footsteps on the stairs.
When he turned back, Stobbold saw that the Doctor was once again in the armchair. He held a small box, a plain black cube about two inches along each side. He was turning it over in his hands, as if looking for a way to open it. After a few seconds he tossed it into the air, caught it, and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
'Are you not tired, Doctor? After your travel?'
'Oh, I'm used to travel,' the Doctor said. 'It's sitting still doing nothing that tires me.' He turned to face Stobbold, and their eyes met. 'Are you you tired?' tired?'
And suddenly Stobbold found that he was not. He was wide awake and alert. Curious, even. 'Can I offer you a small glass of sherry, perhaps?' he asked.
The smile spread slowly across the Doctor's entire face, as if thawing it out after a hard winter. 'I'd like that,' he said. 'Yes, I'd like that very much.'
They sat in silence for many minutes. Stobbold watched the Doctor. The Doctor watched the fire. Occasionally, the Doctor raised his sherry glass and took a sip. The firelight, captured in the facets of the crystal, threw patterns dancing across his face.