A knocker? Of course, he told himself, a house like this would have a knocker. A house so deep into the past…

A wild fear surged through him. Not space, but time, he wondered. Had he been moved (if he had been moved) not in space, but time?

He lifted the knocker and hammered with it. He waited. There was no sign he had been heard. He hammered once again.

A footstep crunched behind him and a cone of light speared out and caught him. He spun about and the round eye of light held steady, blinding him. Behind the light he sensed the vague figure of a man, the faint outline of a deeper shadow against the darkness of the night.

Back of him the door jerked open and light from the inside of the house flooded out and now be saw the man who held the torch, a kilted figure, with a sheepskin jacket and in his other hand a glint of metal that Blake took to be a gun.

The man who had opened the door asked sharply, 'What is going on out here?

'Someone trying to get in, senator, said the man who held the torch. 'He must have managed to slip past me.

'He slipped past you, said the senator, 'because you were huddled somewhere, hiding from the rain. If you fellows have to play at being guards, I wish you'd do some guarding.

'It was dark, protested the guard, 'and he slipped past…

'I don't think he slipped past, said the senator. 'He just walked up and banged the knocker. If he'd been trying to sneak in, he'd not have used the knocker. He walked in, like any ordinary citizen, and you didn't see him.

Blake turned slowly to face the man standing in the door. 'I'm sorry, sir, he said. 'I didn't know. I didn't mean to raise a ruckus. I just saw the house…

'And that's not all, senator, broke in the guard. 'There've been strange things out tonight. Just a while ago I saw a wolf…