"has reared its ugly head. He's thinking."

Coghlan turned away, lost in concentrated thought. Ghalil said mildly: "A finger, please." He took Coghlan's hand. He paused, and then deliberately took the bandage off the thumb. He pressed the thumb against the sooted scraper. Mannard, curious and uneasy, held up the book. Ghalil pressed the thumb down.

It hurt. Coghlan said: "Wait a minute! What's this?" as if startled awake.

Ghalil took the book to a window. He looked. Mannard crowded close. In silence, Ghalil passed over his pocket magnifying-glass. Mannard looked, exhaustively."That's hard to explain," he said heavily. "The scar and all...."Coghlan said:"All of you, look at this!"He moved the alnico magnet to and fro. The silvery film appeared and disappeared. Ghalil looked at it, and at Coghlan's face."That silvery appearance," said Coghlan painfully, "will appear under the plaster wherever it's cold. I doubt that this magnet alone will silver the whole space at once, though--and it's twenty times as strong as a steel magnet, at that. Apparently a really powerful magnetic field is needed to show this up."The silvery film vanished again when he pulled back the magnet."Now," said Ghalil mildly, "just what would that be? A--what you would call a gadget?"Coghlan swallowed."No," he said helplessly. "There's a gadget, all right, but it must be back in the thirteenth century. This is--well--I guess you'd call this the gadget's ghost."
VI
It grew dark in the room, and Coghlan finished clearing away the plaster from the wet spot by the light of police flashlights. As he removed the last layer of plaster, frost appeared. As it was exposed to view it melted, reluctantly. Then the wall was simply wet over colorings almost completely obliterated by the centuries of damp. At the edges of the square space, the wetness vanished. Coghlan dug under its edge. Plaster only. But there were designs when he cleared plaster away back from the edge. The wall had been elaborately painted, innumerable years ago.Duval looked like a man alternately rapt in enthusiasm at the discovery of artwork which must extend under all the later plaster of this room, and hysterical as he contemplated the absolute illogic of the disclosure.Mannard sat on a camp-chair and watched. The flashlight beams made an extraordinary picture. One played upon Coghlan as he worked. Laurie held it for him, and he worked with great care."I take it," said Mannard after a long silence, and still skeptically, "that you're saying that this is a sort of ghost of a gadget that was made in the thirteenth century.""When," said Ghalil, from a dark corner, "there were no 

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