Mask

I'll never know whether it was some kind of presentiment. I couldn't tell what was wrong with him, only that something was wrong with him. Eventuality I persuaded him to tell me, to show me, what it was that had upset him. He took me down to the cellar where, lying under the ancient fuse box, amongst the old toys and tennis racquets was the black mask. I started to explain that there was nothing to be scared of, just as my father had explained it to me. But, when I looked at the carved face, I remembered my own fear and the way that, for years, I had avoided my father's study and, how, when the old man died I had hidden the thing away down here. 'You are right.' I told him. 'It IS a bad thing and, first thing in the morning, we will have a clear out and a bonfire.'
He was cheered by this and obediently went to bed.

In the event, we didn't have to wait until the morning for the bonfire. It happened that night. Bad wiring in the ancient fuse box. I was lucky to escape.

I was lucky.