With the first flush of the morning Ethel appeared at the door of the
house on Riverside Drive. She had not heard from Ernest, and had been
unable to obtain connection with him at the telephone. Anxiety had
hastened her steps. She brushed against Jack, who was also directing his
steps to the abode of Reginald Clarke.
At the same time something that resembled Ernest Fielding passed from
the house of the Vampire. It was a dull and brutish thing, hideously
transformed, without a vestige of mind.
"Mr. Fielding," cried Ethel, beside herself with fear as she saw him
descending.
"Ernest!" Jack gasped, no less startled at the change in his friend's
appearance.
Ernest's head followed the source of the sound, but no spark of
recognition illumined the deadness of his eyes. Without a present and
without a past ... blindly ... a gibbering idiot ... he stumbled down
the stairs.