'There are no wolves about, said the senator. 'There are no wolves at all. There haven't been for a century or more.

'But I saw one, wailed the guard. 'There was that big flash of lightning and I saw it, on the hill across the creek.

The senator said to Blake, 'I'm sorry to keep you standing with all this bickering. It's no night to be out.

'It seems that I am lost, said Blake, fighting to keep his teeth from chattering. 'If you'll tell me where I am and point out the way…

'Turn off that light, the senator told the guard, 'and get back to your job.

The torch snapped off.

'Wolves, indeed! said the senator, incensed.

To Blake, he said, 'If you'd step in, so I could close the door.

Blake stepped in and the senator closed the door behind him.

Blake looked around him. He stood in a foyer flanked on either side by floor-to-ceiling doors and in the room beyond a fire burned in a great stone fireplace. The room was crammed with heavy furniture upholstered in bright prints.

The senator stepped past him and stopped to look at him. 'My name is Andrew Blake, said Blake, 'and I am afraid I am messing up your floor.

Rain dripping from his robe had made puddles on the floor and a line of wet footprints led from the door 1o where he stood.

The senator, he saw, was a tall, lean man, with close clipped white hair and a silvery moustache, beneath which was a firm, straight mouth that had a trap-like quality. He wore a robe of white, with a purple jigsaw motif worked around its edges.

'You look like a drowning rat, said the senator, 'if you don't mind my saying so. And you have lost your sandals.

He turned and opened one of the flanking doors to reveal a rack of clothing. Reaching in, he pulled out a thick, brown robe.

'Here, he said, handing it to Blake. 'This should serve. Real wool. I take it you are cold.