POPULAR NOVELS

BY

JOSEPH HOCKING

 * * * * *

THE STORY OF ANDREW FAIRFAX

JABEZ EASTERBROOK

ALL MEN ARE LIARS

FIELDS OF FAIR RENOWN

WEAPONS OF MYSTERY

THE PURPLE ROBE

THE SCARLET WOMAN

THE BIRTHRIGHT

MISTRESS NANCY MOLESWORTH

LEST WE FORGET

GREATER LOVE

THE COMING OF THE KING

ROGER TREWINION

THE PRINCE OF THIS WORLD

GOD AND MAMMON

AN ENEMY HATH DONE THIS

THE RING OF DESTINY

HEARTSEASE

THE TENANT OF CROMLECH COTTAGE

NANCY TREVANION'S LEGACY

THE SIGN OF THE TRIANGLE

The Weapons of Mystery

by Joseph Hocking

AUTHOR OF "ALL MEN ARE LIARS", "THE PURPLE ROBE", "THE SCARLET WOMAN", ETC. 

WARD. LOCK & CO. , LIMITED

LONDON AND MELBOURNE_Made and Printed in Great Britain by_ Ward, Lock & Co. , Limited, London. 

1890

CONTENTS

Chap. 

I. INTRODUCES THE WRITER AND OTHERS

II. CHRISTMAS EVE

III. CHRISTMAS MORNING

IV. VOLTAIRE'S STORY OF THE EAST

V. CHRISTMAS NIGHT--THE FORGING OF THE CHAIN

VI. AFTERWARDS

VII. DREARWATER POND

VIII. DARKNESS AND LIGHT

IX. THE HALL GHOST

X. THE COMING OF THE NIGHT

XI. DARK DREAMS AND NIGHT SHADOWS

XII. A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE

XIII. A MESMERIST'S SPELL

XIV. GOD

XV. BEGINNING TO SEARCH

XVI. STRUGGLING FOR VICTORY

XVII. USING THE ENEMY'S WEAPONS

XVIII. NEARING THE END

XIX. THE SECOND CHRISTMAS EVE

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCES THE WRITER AND OTHERS

My story begins on the morning of December 18, 18--, while sitting atbreakfast. Let it be understood before we go further that I was abachelor living in lodgings. I had been left an orphan just before Icame of age, and was thus cast upon the world at a time when it isextremely dangerous for young men to be alone. Especially was it so inmy case, owing to the fact that at twenty-one I inherited a considerablefortune. One thing saved me from ruin, viz. A passionate love forliterature, which led me to make it my profession. I had at the time ofmy story been following the bent of my inclinations for two years with afair amount of success, and was regarded by those who knew me as a luckyfellow. That is all I think I need say concerning myself prior to thetime when my story opens, except to tell my name; but that will drop outvery soon. I had not made very great inroads into the omelette mylandlady had prepared for me when I heard the postman's knock, and soonafter a servant entered with a letter. One only. I had expected at leasthalf-a-dozen, but only one lay on the tray before me. 

"Are you sure this is all, Jane?" I asked. 

"Quite sure, sir, " said Jane, smiling, and then with a curtsey she tookher leave. 

The envelope was addressed in a bold hand-writing to--

_Justin M. Blake, Esq. , Gower Street, London, W. _

"Surely I know the writing, " I mused, and then began to look at thepostmarks as if a letter were something of very uncommon occurrence. Icould make nothing of the illegible smear in the corner, however, and soopened it, and read as follows:--

Dear old Justin Martyr, I suppose you have about forgotten your old schoolfellow, Tom Temple, and it's natural you should; but he has not forgotten you. You see, youhave risen to fame, and I have remained in obscurity. Ah well, such isthe fate of that community called 'country gentlemen. ' But this is notwhat I want to write about, and I am going straight to the real objectof this letter. 

We--that is, mother, the girls, and myself--are contemplating a realjolly Christmas. We are inviting a few friends to spend Christmas andNew Year with us, and we wish you to make one of the number. Will youcome and spend a fortnight or so at Temple Hall? Of course it is ratherquiet here, but we are going to do our best to make it more lively thanusual. The weather looks frosty, and that promises skating. We have afew good horses, so that we can have some rides across the country. There is also plenty of shooting, hunting, etc. , etc. Altogether, if youwill come and help us; we can promise a fairly good bill of fare. Whatdo you say? You must excuse me for writing in this unconventionalstrain, but I can't write otherwise to my old schoolfellow. 

We shall all be really disappointed if you say 'no, ' so write at onceand tell us you will come, also when we may expect you. All the newswhen we meet. 

Your sincere friend, Tom Temple. 

P. S. --I might say that most of the guests will arrive on Christmas Eve. 

"Just the very thing, " I exclaimed. "I had been wondering what to do andwhere to go this Christmas time, and this invitation comes insplendidly. "

Tom Temple lived in Yorkshire, at a fine old country house some distancefrom the metropolis of that county, and was a really good fellow. As forhis mother and sisters, I knew but little about them, but I judged fromthe letters his mother wrote him when at school, that she must be atrue, kind-hearted, motherly woman. 

I accordingly turned to my desk, wrote to Tom, telling him to expect meon the 24th inst. , and then, without finishing my breakfast, endeavouredto go on with my work. It was very difficult, however. My thoughts wereever running away to Yorkshire, and on the pleasant time I hoped tospend. Between the lines on my paper I was ever seeing the old baronialhall that was Tom Temple's home, and the people who had been invited tospend the festive season there. Presently I began to chide myself for myfoolishness. Why should the thoughts of a Christmas holiday so unfit me, a staid old bachelor of thirty, for my usual work? Nevertheless it did, so I put on my overcoat, and went away in the direction of Hyde Park inorder, if possible, to dispel my fancies. I did dispel them, and shortlyafterwards returned to my lodgings, and did a good morning's work. 

Nothing of importance happened between the 18th and the 24th, and earlyin the afternoon of the latter date I found my way to St. PancrasStation, and booked for the station nearest Tom Temple's home. Althoughit was Christmas Eve, I found an empty first-class carriage, and sooncomfortably ensconced myself therein. I don't know why, but we Englishpeople generally try to get an empty carriage, and feel annoyed whensome one comes in to share our possession. I, like the rest of mycountrymen are apt to do in such a case, began to hope I might retainthe entire use of the carriage, at least to Leeds, when the door opened, and a porter brought a number of wraps and shawls, evidently theproperty of a lady. 

"Bother it!" I mentally exclaimed, "and so I suppose I am to have somefidgety old women for my travelling companions. "

The reader will imagine from this that I was not a lady's man. At anyrate, such was the case. I had lived my thirty years without ever beingin love; indeed, I had from principle avoided the society of ladies, that is, when they were of the flirtable or marriageable kind. 

No sooner had the porter laid the articles mentioned on a corner seat, the one farthest away from me, than their owner entered, and myirritation vanished. It was a young lady under the ordinary size, and, from what I could see of her, possessed of more than ordinary beauty. Her skin was dark and clear, her eyes very dark, her mouth pleasant yetdecided, her chin square and determined. This latter feature would inthe eyes of many destroy her pretensions to beauty, but I, who likedpersons with a will of their own, admired the firm resoluteness thefeature indicated. 

She took no notice of me, but quietly arranged her belongings as if shewere accustomed to take care of herself. She had only just sat down, when she was followed by another lady, who appeared, from the sign ofrecognition that passed between them, an acquaintance. 

Evidently, however, the younger lady was not delighted at the advent ofthe elder. A look of annoyance swept across her face, as if she couldhave very comfortably excused her presence. I did not wonder at it. Thissecond comer was a woman of about fifty-five years of age. She hadyellow wrinkled skin, a square upright forehead, shaggy grey eyebrows, beneath which, in two cavernous sockets, were two black beady-lookingeyes. Her mouth was large and coarse, and, to make that feature stillmore objectionable, two large teeth, like two fangs, stuck out at aconsiderable angle from her upper jaw and rested on the lower lip. Altogether the face was repulsive. Added to this, she was tall and bony, and would have passed anywhere for one of the witches of olden time. 

"I have altered my mind, Gertrude, and am going with you. " This was saidin a harsh, thick voice. 

"I see you are here, Miss Staggles, " said the younger lady very coolly. 

"I did not intend coming at first, but your aunt, poor silly thing, saidyou would not take your maid with you, and so I thought it would be asin for a young girl like you to travel alone to Yorkshire on a day likethis. "

"Yorkshire?" I thought. "Is that old woman to be in this carriage withme for five or six long hours? I'll get out. "

I was too late; at that moment the guard's whistle blew, and the trainmoved slowly out of the station. At all events, I had to remain untilthe train stopped, so I composed myself as well as I could, and resolvedto make the best of it. Neither of them paid the slightest attention tome. The elder lady sat bolt upright opposite the younger, and began toharangue her. 

"Don't you know it was very foolish of you to think of coming alone?"

"No, " said the younger lady; "I'm tired of having a maid dogging myevery footstep, as if I were a child and unable to do for myself. "

"Nevertheless, Gertrude, you should have brought her; no young ladyshould travel alone. However, you will have a chaperon, so thedeficiency will be more than remedied;" and there was grim satisfactionin the woman's voice. 

There was no satisfaction in the young lady's face, however, and sheturned with what I thought an angry look towards the scrawny duenna, whohad claimed guardianship over her, and said----

"But, Miss Staggles, you are in a false position. You have received noinvitation. "

"No, I have not; but your aunt had one, poor silly creature, and so, forduty's sake, I am breaking the rules of etiquette. Those fine people youare about to visit did not think it worth their while to invite youraunt's late husband's step-sister--perhaps because she is poor; but shehas a soul above formalities, and so determined to come and take care ofher niece. "

The young lady made no reply. 

"You will be thankful, Gertrude Forrest, some day that I do care foryou, " Miss Staggles continued, "although I never expect to get anyreward for my kindness. "

By this time the train was going rapidly, and so loud was the roar itmade that I heard only the growling of Miss Staggles' voice withoutdistinguishing any words. Indeed, I was very glad I could not. It was byno means pleasant to have to sit and listen to her hoarse voice, so Ipulled down the laps of my travelling cap over my ears and, closing myeyes, began to think who Gertrude Forrest was, and where she was going. 

I did not change carriages as I intended. Miss Staggles got tired afterawhile, and so there was relief in that quarter, while my seat was mostcomfortable, and I did not want to be disturbed. Hour after hour passedby, until night came on; then the wind blew colder, and I began towonder how soon the journey would end, when the collector came to takeall the tickets from the Leeds passengers. Shortly after we arrived atthe Midland station, for which I was truly thankful. I did not waitthere long; a train stood at another platform, which stopped at astation some two miles from Tom Temple's home. By this time there wasevery evidence of the holiday season. The train was crowded, and I wasglad to get in at all, unmindful of comfort. 

What had become of my two travelling companions I was not aware, butconcluded that they would be staying at Leeds, as they had given uptheir tickets at the collecting station. I cannot but admit, however, that I was somewhat anxious as to the destination of Gertrude Forrest, for certainly she had made an impression upon me I was not likely toforget. Still I gave up the idea of ever seeing her again, and tried tothink of the visit I was about to pay. 

Arrived at the station, I saw Tom Temple, who gave me a hearty welcome, after which he said, "Justin, my boy, do you want to be introduced tosome ladies at present?"

"A thousand times no, " I replied. "Let's wait till we get to TempleHall. "

"Then, in that case, you will have to go home in a cab. I retained onefor you, knowing your dislike to the fair sex; for, of course, they willhave to go in the carriage, and I must go with them. Stay, though. I'llgo and speak to them, and get them all safe in the carriage, and then, as there will be barely room for me, I'll come back and ride home withyou. "

He rushed away as he spoke, and in a few minutes came back again. "I amsorry those ladies had to be made rather uncomfortable, but guests havebeen arriving all the day, and thus things are a bit upset. There arefive people in yon carriage; three came from the north, and two from thesouth. The northern train has been in nearly half-an-hour, so the threehad to wait for the two. Well, I think I've made them comfortable, so Idon't mind so much. "

"You're a capital host, Tom, " I said. 

"Am I, Justin? Well, I hope I am to you, for I have been really longingfor you to come, and I want you to have a jolly time. "

"I'm sure I shall, " I replied. 

"Well, I hope so; only you don't care for ladies' society, and I'mafraid I shall have to be away from you a good bit. "

"Naturally you will, old fellow. You see, you are master of the hall, and will have to look after the comfort of all the guests. "

"Oh, as to that, mother will do all that's necessary; but I--that is--"and Tom stopped. 

"Any particular guest, Tom?" I asked. 

"Yes, there is, Justin. I don't mind telling you, but I'm in love, and Iwant to settle the matter this Christmas. She's an angel of a girl, andI'm in hopes that--Well, I don't believe she hates me. "

"Good, Tom. And her name?"

"Her name, " said Tom slowly, "is Edith Gray. "

I gave a sigh of relief. I could not help it--why I could not tell; andyet I trembled lest he should mention another name. 

We reached Temple Hall in due time, where I was kindly welcomed by Mrs. Temple and her two daughters. The former was just the kind of lady I hadpictured her, while the daughters gave promise of following in thefootsteps of their kind-hearted mother. 

Tom took me to my room, and then, looking at his watch, said, "Makehaste, old fellow. Dinner has been postponed on account of you latearrivals, but it will be ready in half-an-hour. "

I was not long over my toilet, and soon after hearing the first dinnerbell I wended my way to the drawing-room, wondering who and what kind ofpeople I should meet, but was not prepared for the surprises thatawaited me. 

CHAPTER II

CHRISTMAS EVE

Just before I reached the drawing-room door, Mrs. Temple came up andtook me by the arm. 

"We are all going to be very unceremonious, Mr. Blake, " she said, "and Ishall expect my son's friend to make himself perfectly at home. "

I thanked her heartily, for I began to feel a little strange. 

We entered the drawing-room together, where I found a number of peoplehad gathered. They were mostly young, although I saw one or twoancient-looking dames, who, I supposed, had come to take care of theirdaughters. 

"I am going to introduce you to everybody, " continued the old lady, "forthis is to be a family gathering, and we must all know each other. Iknow I may not be acting according to the present usages of society, butthat does not trouble me a little bit. "

Accordingly, with the utmost good taste, she introduced me to a numberof the people who had been invited. 

I need make no special mention of most of them. Some of the young ladiessimpered, others were frank, some were fairly good looking, while otherswere otherwise, and that is about all that could be said. None hadsufficient individuality to make a distinct impression upon me. Theyoung men were about on a par with the young ladies. Some lisped andwere affected, some were natural and manly; and I began to think that, as far as the people were concerned, the Christmas gathering would be asomewhat tame affair. 

This thought had scarcely entered my mind when two men entered the room, who were certainly not of the ordinary type, and will need a few wordsof description; for both were destined, as my story will show, to haveconsiderable influence over my life. 

I will try to describe the more striking of the two first. 

He was a young man. Not more than thirty-five. He was fairly tall, wellbuilt, and had evidently enjoyed the education and advantages of a manof wealth. His hair was black as the raven's wings, and was brushed in aheavy mass horizontally across his forehead. His eyes were of a colourthat did not accord with his black hair and swarthy complexion. Theywere of an extremely light grey, and were tinted with a kind of green. They were placed very close together, and, the bridge of the nose beingnarrow, they appeared sometimes as if only one eye looked upon you. Themouth was well cut, the lips rather thin, which often parted, revealinga set of pearly white teeth. There was something positively fascinatingabout the mouth, and yet it betrayed malignity--cruelty. He wasperfectly self-possessed, stood straight, and had a soldier-likebearing. I instinctively felt that this was a man of power, one whowould endeavour to make his will law. His movements were perfectlygraceful, and from the flutter among the young ladies when he entered, Ijudged he had already spent some little time with them, and made noslight impression. 

His companion was much smaller, and even darker than he was. His everyfeature indicated that he was not an Englishman. With small wiry limbs, black, restless, furtive eyes, rusty black hair, and a somewhatunhealthy colour in his face, he formed a great contrast to the man Ihave just tried to describe. I did not like him. He seemed to carry ahundred secrets around with him, and each one a deadly weapon he wouldsome day use against any who might offend him. He, too, gave you theidea of power, but it was the power of a subordinate. 

Instinctively I felt that I should have more to do with these men thanwith the rest of the company present. 

Although I have used a page of good paper in describing them, I was onlya very few seconds in seeing and realizing what I have written. 

Both walked up to us, and both smiled on Mrs. Temple, whereupon sheintroduced them. The first had a peculiar name; at least, so it seemedto me. 

"Mr. Herod Voltaire--Mr. Justin Blake, " she said; and instantly we werelooking into each other's eyes, I feeling a strange kind of shiver passthrough me. 

The name of the smaller man was simply that of an Egyptian, "Aba WadyKaffar. " The guests called him Mr. Kaffar, and thus made it as muchEnglish as possible. 

Scarcely had the formalities of introduction been gone through betweenthe Egyptian and myself, when my eyes were drawn to the door, which wasagain opening. Do what I would I could not repress a start, for, to mysurprise, I saw my travelling companions enter with MissTemple--Gertrude Forrest looking more charming and more beautiful thanever, and beside her Miss Staggles, tall, gaunt, and more forbiddingthan when in the railway carriage. 

It is no use denying the fact, for my secret must sooner or later dropout. My heart began to throb wildly, while my brain seemed on fire. Ibegan to picture myself in conversation with her, and becomingacquainted with her, when I accidentally looked at Herod Voltaire. Hiseyes were fixed on Miss Forrest, as if held by a magnet, and I fancied Isaw a faint colour tinge his cheek. 

What I am now going to write may appear foolish and unreal, especiallywhen you remember that I was thirty years of age, but the moment I sawhis ardent, admiring gaze, I felt madly jealous. 

The second dinner bell rang, and so, mechanically offering my arm to alady who had, I thought, been neglected on account of her plain looks, Ifollowed the guests to the dining-room. 

Nothing happened there worth recording. We had an old-fashioned Englishdinner, and that is about all I can remember, except that the tablelooked exceedingly nice. I don't think there was much talking; evidentlythe guests were as yet strangers to each other, and were only graduallywearing away the restraint that naturally existed. I could not see MissGertrude Forrest, for she was sitting on my side of the table, but Icould see the peculiar eyes of Herod Voltaire constantly looking at someone nearly opposite him, while he scarcely touched the various dishesthat were placed on the table. 

Presently dinner came to an end. The ladies retired to the drawing-room, while the gentlemen prepared to sit over their wine. Being an abstainer, I asked leave to retire with the ladies. I did this for two reasonsbesides my principles of abstinence. First, I thought the custom afoolish one, as well as being harmful; and, second, I hoped by enteringthe drawing-room early, I might have a chance to speak to Miss Forrest. 

I did not leave alone. Two young Englishmen also declared themselves tobe abstainers, and wanted to go with me, while Herod Voltaire likewiseasked leave to abide by the rules he had ever followed in the countriesin which he had lived. 

Of course there was some laughing demur among those who enjoyed theirafter-dinner wine, but we followed the bent of our inclination, andfound our way to the drawing-room. 

Evidently the ladies were not sorry to see us, for a look of pleasureand surprise greeted us, and soon the conversation became general. Presently, however, our attention was by degrees drawn to that part ofthe room where Herod Voltaire sat, and I heard him speaking fluently andsmoothly on some subject he was discussing with a young lady. 

"Yes, Miss Emery, " he said, "I think European education is poor, isone-sided. Take, for example, the ordinary English education, and whatdoes it amount to? Arithmetic, and sometimes a little mathematics, reading, writing, French, sometimes German, and of course music anddancing. Nearly all are educated in one groove, until there is in theEnglish mind an amount of sameness that becomes monotonous. "

"You are speaking of the education of ladies, Mr. Voltaire?" said MissEmery. 

"Yes, more particularly, although there is but little more variationamong the men. Take your University degrees--your Cambridge and OxfordMaster of Arts, for example; what a poor affair it is! I have beenlooking over the subjects of examination, and what are they? A couple oflanguages, the literature of two or three countries, mathematics, andsomething else which I have forgotten now. "

"You are scarcely correct, sir, " said one of the young men who came inwith me. "I happen to have passed through Cambridge, and have taken thedegree you mention. I found it stiff enough. "

"Not so stiff, when it can be taken at your age, " replied Voltaire. "But, admitting what you say, you are all cast in the same mould. Youstudy the same subjects, and thus what one of you knows, all know. "

"And what may be your ideas concerning education?" said Miss Forrest. 

Herod Voltaire turned and looked admiringly on her, and I saw that ablush tinged both their cheeks. 

"My ideas are such as would not find much favour in ordinary Englishcircles, " he said smilingly. "But I should do away with much of thenonsense of ordinary English education, and deal with the more occultsciences. "

"Pardon me, but I do not quite understand you. "

"I will endeavour to make my meaning plain. There are subjects relatingto the human body, mind, and soul, which cannot be said to have beenreally studied at all, except by some recluse here and there, who isgenerally considered mad. You deal with the things which are seen, butthink not of the great unsolved spiritual problems of life. For example, the effect of mind upon mind, animal magnetism, mesmerism, biology, andkindred subjects are unknown to you. The secrets of mind and spirit areleft unnoticed by you Western people. You seek not to solve the occulttruths which exist in the spirit of all men. You shudder at the problemof what you call death, and fancy nothing can be known of the spiritwhich leaves the world in which you live; whereas there is no such thingas death. The spirits of the so-called dead are living forces all aroundus, who can tell their condition to those who understand some of thesecrets of spiritualism. Nay, more than that. There are occult laws ofthe soul which, if understood by some powerful mind, can be made toexplain some of the deepest mysteries of the universe. For example, aman versed in the secrets of the spirit life can cause the soul of anyhuman being to leave its clay tenement, and go to the world of spirits, and learn its secrets; and by the powers of his soul life, which can bea thousand times strengthened by means of a knowledge of the forces atthe command of all, he can summon it back to the body again. Of course Ican only hint at these things here, as only the initiated can understandthese secret laws; but these are the things I would have studied, andthus lift the life of man beyond his poor material surroundings. " Bythis time the drawing-room was pretty well full. Nearly all the men hadleft their wine, and all were listening intently to what Voltaire wassaying. 

"You have lived in the East?" said Miss Forrest, evidently fascinated bythe strange talk. 

"For the last ten years. I spent a year in Cairo, two more up by thebanks of the Nile, among the ruins of ancient cities, where, in spite ofthe degradation that exists, there is still to be found those who havesome of the wisdom of past ages. Four years did I live in India amongthe sages who hold fast to the teaching of Buddha. The three remainingyears I have spent in Arabia, Syria, and Chaldea. "

"And do you mean to say that what you have mentioned exists in reality?"said Miss Forrest. 

"I have only hinted at what really exists. I could record to you factsthat are strange, beyond the imagination of Dumas; so wonderful, thatafterwards you could believe the stories told by your most renownedsatirist, Dean Swift. "

"Favour us with one, " I suggested. 

Voltaire looked at me with his green-tinted eyes, as if he would read myinnermost thoughts. Evidently his impression of me was not favourable, for a cynical smile curled his lips, and his eyes gleamed with a steelyglitter. "One has to choose times, occasions, and proper circumstances, in order to tell such facts, " he said. "I never speak of a sacred thingjestingly. "

We were all silent. This man had become the centre of attraction. Bothmen and women hung upon his every word. I looked around the room and Isaw a strange interest manifested, except in the face of the Egyptian. Aba Wady Kaffar was looking at the ceiling as if calculating how manysquare feet there were. 

"Perhaps you find it difficult to believe me, " went on Voltaire. "Thetruth is, I am very unfortunate in many respects. My way of expressingmy thoughts is perhaps distasteful to you. You see, I have lived so longin the East that I have lost much of my European training. Then, my nameis unfortunate. Herod killed one of your Christian saints, whileVoltaire was an infidel. You English people have strong prejudices, andthus my story would be injured by the narrator. "

"Nay, Voltaire, " said Tom Temple, "we are all friendly listeners here. "

"My good host, " said Voltaire, "I am sure you are a friendly listener, but I have been telling of Eastern knowledge. One aspect of thatknowledge is that the learned can read the minds, the thoughts of thosewith whom they come into contact. "

The ladies began to express an intense desire to hear a story of magicand mystery, and to assure him that his name was a delightful one. 

"I trust I am not the disciple of either the men whose name I bear. Certainly I am susceptible to the influence of ladies"--and he smiled, thereby showing his white, shining teeth--"but I am a great admirer ofhonest men, whoever they may be, or whatever be their opinion. I am nota follower of Voltaire, although I admire his genius. He believed butlittle in the powers of the soul, or in the spirit world; I, on theother hand, believe it to be more real than the world in which we live. "

"We are not altogether strangers to stories about spiritualism ormesmerism here, " said Miss Forrest, "but the votaries of these so-calledsciences have been and are such miserable specimens of mankind thateducated people treat them with derision. "

There was decision and energy in her voice. Evidently she was not one tobe easily deceived or trifled with. 

"Counterfeits prove reality, " said Voltaire, looking searchingly at her;"besides, I seek to impose none of my stories on any one. I am not aprofessional spiritualist, psychologist, or biologist. I simply happento have lived in countries where these matters are studied, and, as aconsequence, have learned some of their mysteries. Seeing what I haveseen, and hearing what I have heard, I beg to quote your greatest poet--

 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy. '"

"Your quotation is apropos, " she said in reply, "but it so happens thatI have taken considerable interest in the matter about which you havebeen speaking, and after seeing various representations of theseso-called occult sciences, and carefully examining them, I have come tothe conclusion that they are only so many fairly clever juggling tricks, which have been attempts to deceive credulous people. Moreover, thesehave been so often exposed by cultured men, that they have no weightwith people of intelligence. "

His eyes gleamed savagely, but he smiled upon her, and said, "Perhaps Imay have an opportunity of undeceiving you, some time in the nearfuture. "

"Meanwhile you will tell us an Eastern story, " said one of the youngladies. 

"Pardon me, " replied Voltaire, "but tonight is Christmas Eve, and as mystory might be regarded as heathenish, I will wait for some morefavourable time, when your minds will not be influenced by the memoriesof the birth of the Christian religion. Besides, I know many of you arelonging for other amusement than stories of the unseen. "

As he spoke I saw his eyes travel towards Aba Wady Kaffar, and theyexchanged glances; then he looked towards Miss Forrest, and again a lookof intelligence passed between him and the Egyptian. 

Soon after Kaffar began to talk fluently to one of the Misses Temple, while several members of the party prepared for a charade. Then, whenthe attention of the guests was drawn towards those who displayed theirpowers at acting, I saw Voltaire rise and go out, and soon after he wasfollowed by his friend. 

Acting upon sudden impulse, which I think was caused by the remembranceof the meaning glances that passed between them after Voltaire hadlooked at Miss Forrest, I followed them out into the silent night. Somehow I felt that this fascinating man did not like me, while I wassure he had been deeply impressed by the woman who had that daytravelled with me from London. 

CHAPTER III

CHRISTMAS MORNING

When I got out on the lawn, I accused myself of doing a very foolishthing. "Why, " I thought, "should I follow these men? I know nothingagainst them. They have as much right here as I have, and surely twofriends can leave the house and come out for a stroll without beingwatched?"

With this thought in my mind I turned to go back again, when I heardvoices close by me. Evidently they were behind some large laurel busheswhich hid them from my sight. I stopped again for an instant; but, knowing I had no right to listen to what might be private conversation, I started a second time for the house, when I heard the name of GertrudeForrest, and then I seemed chained to the ground. 

"You have inquired about her?" said a voice, which I recognized asbelonging to Voltaire. The answer was in Arabic, and was spoken byKaffar. 

Five years prior to the time of which I am writing I had been engaged ina work that required a knowledge of the Arabic language, and although itcannot be said I had become anything like proficient in that tongue, Ihad been taught by an Arabian, and could enter into ordinaryconversation. Thus I understood the Egyptian's reply. 

"With regard to Miss Forrest, " he said, "I answer not in the languagewhich every one here knows. Miss Forrest must be yours, and that forseveral reasons. She is a flower in herself. She is an orphan. She has alarge fortune. She has absolute control over it. She has a fine house inEngland's capital. She has a large estate and a grand country mansion inthe south of this country. Win her, Herod Voltaire, and you can be alittle king, and I your prime minister. We heard much about her beforewe came; but we did not think to find such a queen. Win her, man, andour fortunes are made. "

This was said quickly, and with all the fervour of an Eastern. 

"Yes, Kaffar. It would be well if it could be done. To be an Englishgentleman, with an _entree_ into the best English society, is what Ihave long longed for. It will not only satisfy my taste, but give mepower, and power is what I must have. It is by good luck we are here, but neither of us have the means to pass as English aristocrats verylong. As you say, something must be done, and, upon my honour, I havevery nearly fallen in love with her. But she must be won, and wonfairly. She is evidently strong and determined, and can be forced to donothing. "

"Nonsense, " snarled the Egyptian. "Use all your seductive arts first, and if you fail to win her by those, trust me to weave such a chain ofevents as shall make her become Mrs. Voltaire. "

Up to this point I listened attentively, and then a minute's silence ontheir part aroused me to myself. Was it right to stand listening thus?And yet a thousand things justified the act. 

They moved on from the spot where they had been standing, but I was toomuch stunned to follow them. At that moment I realized that I had givenmy heart to Gertrude Forrest, and that another man had designsconcerning her. 

This sudden falling into love may appear foolish, especially when it isremembered that I had passed the age of boyhood, and yet I have knownseveral cases similar to my own. Anyhow, I, who had never loved before, loved now--loved, perhaps, foolishly; for I knew nothing of the lady Iloved, and, of course, had not the slightest hope of her caring for me. 

Thus it was with a throbbing heart that I stood there alone upon thelawn, with the knowledge of my new-found love just breaking upon me, and, more than that, I had every reason to fear that she was to be madethe dupe of two clever villains. 

I turned to follow them, but they were gone I knew not whither, and so Iwent back to the house determined that, if I could be nothing else, Iwould be Miss Forrest's protector. 

I had been back in the drawing-room perhaps ten minutes, when Voltaireand Kaffar returned, and apparently entered with great zest into thefestivities of the evening. There is no necessity that I should write ofwhat took place during the remainder of Christmas Eve. It was held ingood old English style, and to most, I am sure, it was very enjoyable. Igot an opportunity of speaking to Miss Forrest, but only for a veryshort time; at the same time, I noticed that Voltaire took not theslightest notice of her. 

When I awoke the following morning and looked out, I saw that the greatYorkshire hills were covered with snow, the air was bitingly cold, andthe leaden sky promised us some real Christmas weather. 

I was soon dressed and ready to go down, but on looking at my watch Ifound I had an hour to spare before breakfast. Arrangements had beenmade for us to breakfast at ten, and thus be just in time for service atthe little village church. 

On my way down-stairs I saw Tom Temple, who told me to find my way tothe library, where I should be able to pass the time pleasantly. Ientered the room, an old-fashioned dark place lined on every side withbooks. I felt in no mood for looking at them just then, however, and sowalked to a window and looked out on the snow-draped landscape thatstretched away on every hand. It was a wondrous scene. The snow hadfallen steadily all through the night, and no breath of wind had stirredthe feathery flakes. Thus trees and bushes were laden with snowcrystals, while the spotless white was relieved here and there by someshining evergreen leaves which peeped out amidst their snowy mantles. Ordinarily I should have been impressed by it. Now, however, I could nothelp thinking of other matters. One face was ever before me, and Iconstantly wondered whether she were in real danger from these strangemen, and whether I should have any part in the labour of delivering herfrom them. As yet I could do nothing. I knew nothing wrong of them. Theymight be impostors, they might be penniless adventurers, but I could notprove it. Neither could I tell Miss Forrest what I had heard, whilecertainly Voltaire had as much right as I had to seek to win heraffections. 

These thoughts had scarcely passed through my mind when, hearing a soundbehind me, I turned and saw Miss Forrest, who met me with a bright"Good-morning" and the compliments of the season. I blushed almostguiltily at the sound of her voice--I, who had for years declared thatno woman could interest me enough to make my heart throb one whit thequicker. 

"This is a pleasant surprise, " I said, after responding to her greeting. "I quite expected to be alone for an hour at least. You see, we allremained up so late last night that it was to me a settled matter thatnone of you would appear until it was time to start for church. "

"I hope I am not disturbing you in your morning's meditations, Mr. Blake, " she replied; "I would have stayed in my room had I thought so. "

"On the other hand, I am delighted to see you here. Whether you know itor not, I rode from London to Leeds with you yesterday, and I havethought ever since I should like to know you. "

She looked straight at me as if she would read my thoughts, and thensaid pleasantly, "I was on the point of asking you whether such was notthe case. I was not sure, because you had your travelling cap pulledover your face. "

"How strange, though, that we were both bound for the same place!" Isaid. 

"Yes, it does seem remarkable; and yet it is not so wonderful, afterall. I am an old friend and schoolfellow of Emily Temple, while you, Iam told, are an old friend and schoolfellow of her brother. Thus nothingis more natural than that we should be invited to such a gathering asthis. "

"Do you know any of the people who are here?" I asked. 

"I have met nearly all the young ladies, but only two of thegentlemen--Mr. Voltaire and Mr. Kaffar. I saw them on the Continent. "

"Indeed?" I said, while I have no doubt a dark look passed over my face. 

"Do you not like them?" she asked. 

"I do not know enough of either, " I replied, "to give an answerreasonably, either in the affirmative or the negative. I think myfailing is to form hasty judgments concerning people, which, of course, cannot be fair. "

I said this rather stammeringly, while she watched me keenly. 

"That means that you do not like them, " she said. 

"Are you quite justified in saying that?" I replied, scarcely knowingwhat else to say. 

"Quite, " she said. "You feel towards them just as I do. I was introducedto them in Berlin. Mr. Tom Temple had formed their acquaintance somehow, and seemed wonderfully fascinated by them. I scarcely spoke to them, however, as I left Germany the next day, and was rather surprised to seethem here last night. "

"Mr. Voltaire is a very fascinating man, " I suggested. 

"There can be no doubt about that, " was her reply. 

"And yet I fancy much of his high-flown talk about spiritualism was mereimagination. "

"I was inclined to think so at first, but I have heard strange thingsabout him. However, it is perhaps scarcely fair to talk about him thus. "

All this time we had stood looking out of the window upon the wintrylandscape, and I, at least, was oblivious to all else but the fact thatI was talking with the woman whose interest for me was paramount, when alump of coal fell from the grate upon the fire-irons. 

We both turned, and saw Herod Voltaire standing by a bookcase with anopen volume in his hand. A disinterested person might have fancied hehad not heard a word of our conversation, but I was sure I saw a steelyglitter in his eyes, and a cruel smile playing around his mouth. 

"Then you go to church this morning?" I said, seeking to turn theconversation as naturally as I could. 

"Yes, I always do on Christmas morning, " she replied, as if thankful Ihad given her an opportunity of speaking about other matters. 

"Then I hope I shall have the pleasure of escorting you, " I replied. 

Ordinarily I should not have dared to mention such a matter to a lady Ihad seen so little of, but the request slipped out unthinkingly; andshe, no doubt confused by the presence of Voltaire, cheerfully assented. 

Our embarrassment came to an end just then, for several others came intothe room, and the conversation became general. 

As the reader may guess, I was highly elated at the turn matters weretaking, and in my heart I began to laugh at Voltaire's idea of winningGertrude Forrest. Moreover, she had willingly consented to walk tochurch with me, and had expressed a dislike for the man I, in spite ofmyself, was beginning to fear. 

Only a very few of the party found their way to the old time-honouredbuilding to join in the Christmas service that morning. Some were tiredand remained in their rooms, while others enjoyed sitting around thecheerful fires. I was not sorry, however, for I was thus enabled toenjoy more of Miss Forrest's society. Need I say that my morning wastruly enjoyable? I think not. I found in my companion one who was inevery way delightful. Widely read, she was able to converse about booksshe loved, and possessing a mind that was untrammelled by societynotions, it was refreshing to hear her talk. Far removed from the giddysociety girl, she was yet full of mirth and pleasantness. Ready witted, she was quick at repartee; and possessing a keen sense of humour, shesaw enjoyment in that which to many would be commonplace. 

Only one thing marred my happiness. That was the memory of a cruel lookwhich rested on Voltaire's face as we went away together. From thatmoment I am sure he regarded me as his rival, and from that moment hesought to measure his strength with mine. I could see in his face thathe had guessed my secret, while I fancied I could see, beneath hissomewhat cynical demeanour, indications of his love for GertrudeForrest. 

On our way back from church we met Voltaire and Kaffar, who were eagerlyconversing. They took but little notice of us, however, and, for my ownpart, I felt relieved when they were out of sight. 

"Do you know what is on the programme for to-night?" I said, when theywere out of hearing. 

"Yes; Mr. Temple has arranged for a conjuror and a ventriloquist tocome, and thus we shall have something to occupy our attention besidesordinary chitchat. "

"I'm very glad, " I replied, "although I should be delighted to spend theevening as I have spent this morning. "

I said this with an earnestness about which there could be no doubt, andI fancied I saw a blush mount to her cheek. At any rate, I felt that wewere good friends, and my heart beat high with hope. 

Arriving at Temple Hall, I saw Tom reading a letter. "Disappointing, Justin, my boy, " he said. 

"What's the matter?" I asked. 

"Why, I engaged some fellows to come here and give us an entertainmentto-night, and they write to say they can't come. But never mind; we mustdo the best we can among ourselves. You are good at all sorts of oddgames; while at--yes, the very thing!--that's delightful!"

"What's delightful?"

"You'll know to-night! 'Pon my word, it's lucky those juggling fellowscan't come. Anyhow, I can promise you a jolly evening. "

Had I known then what that evening would lead to, I should not haveentered the house so joyously as I did; but I knew nothing of what layin the future, while Miss Forrest's great dark eyes beamed upon me insuch a way as to make earth seem like heaven. 

CHAPTER IV

VOLTAIRE'S STORY OF THE EAST

When lunch-time came, I, to my delight, obtained a seat next to MissForrest, and soon I became oblivious to all else but her. I was sure, too, that she liked me. Her every word and action disclaimed the idea ofher being a coquette, while her honest preference for my society wasapparent. 

As we left the table I turned towards Voltaire, and I found that he waslooking at us. If ever hate and cruelty were expressed in any humanface, they were expressed in his. Evidently he regarded me as his rival, and thus his natural enemy. A little later in the afternoon he was againtalking with Kaffar, and instinctively I felt that I was the subject ofhis conversation. But I did not trouble, for was not Gertrude Forrestnear me, and did we not have delightful conversation together? It seemedas if we had known each other for years, and thus it was natural for usto converse freely. 

Just before dinner, Voltaire came to me, as if he wished to enter intoconversation. He commenced talking about Yorkshire, its customs, legends, and superstitions, and then, with a tact and shrewdness which Icould not resist, he drew me into a talk about myself. I felt that hewas sifting me, felt that he was trying to read my very soul, and yet Icould not break myself from him. 

One thing was in my favour. I knew his feelings towards me, felt surethat he hated me, and thus I kept on my guard. Time after time, by somesubtle question, he sought to lead me to speak about the woman dear tomy heart, but in that he did not succeed. He fascinated me, and in adegree mastered me, but did not succeed in all his desires. I knew hewas weighing me, testing me, and seeking to estimate my powers, butbeing on my guard his success was limited. 

When our conversation ceased I felt sure of one thing. It was to be afight to the death between me and this man, if I would obtain the womanI loved. Perhaps some may think this conclusion to be built on a veryinsufficient foundation, nevertheless I felt sure that such was thecase. When I was quite a lad, I remember an old Scotchwoman visited ourhouse. It is little I can recall to memory now concerning her, but Iknow that when she first set her eye upon me she said--

"Eh, Mrs. Blake, but yon bairn has the gift o' second sight. "

My mother laughed at the idea, whereupon the old woman began to correctherself. 

"I'll no say he has the gift o' second sight properly, " she said, "buthe'll _feel_ in a minute what it'll tak soom fowk years to fin' out. Eh, lad"--turning to me--"if ye coom across some one as ye doesna like, haeas leetle to do wi' 'em as ye can. "

I am inclined to think there is truth in this judgment of the old Scotchlady. I have found her words true in many cases, and I was sure in thecase of Voltaire my feelings told me what actually existed. 

There was one thing in my favour. Evidently he did not think I guessedhis wishes; nevertheless I felt sure that if I was to obtain the masteryover such a man, it would be little short of a miracle. 

Dinner passed over without anything worthy of note, but as soon as itwas over we hurried to the drawing-room. Even those who loved theirafter-dinner wine joined the ladies, as if in expectation of somethingwonderful. The truth was, it had gone around that Mr. Voltaire was goingto tell us a story concerning the mystic rites that are practised inEastern lands, and the subject was an attractive one. The ladiesespecially, evidently fascinated by the witchery of this man's presence, anxiously waited for him to commence. 

"What do you wish me to tell you about?" he said in answer to repeatedrequests for him to begin, from several young ladies. 

"Oh, tell us a story of second sight, and spiritualism, and all that, you know, " replied a young lady with a doll's face and simpering manner. 

"You promised you would, " said another. 

"True, I promised, but not to-day. This Christmas Day is like Sunday toyou English folk, and I do not wish to mar its sacredness. "

"Oh, the Sunday part of it is all ended at twelve o'clock, " cried theyoung lady who had spoken first. "As soon as church is over we commenceour fun. Do, Mr. Voltaire; we shall be disappointed if you don't. "

"I cannot resist the ladies, " he said, with a smile, "but you must notbe frightened at my story. For, remember, what I tell you is true. I donot weave this out of my own brain like your average English novelisthas to do. "

I fancied this was directed at me. Not that I deserved the appellation. I had written only one novel, and that was a very poor one. Still Ifancied I saw his light glittering eyes turned in my direction. 

"I must make a sort of apology, too, " he went on. "Many of you do notbelieve in what will be the very marrow of my story. "

"Come, Voltaire, never mind apologies, " said Tom Temple; "we are allanxious to hear it. "

"I mentioned last night, " said Voltaire, "that I had spent some time inEgypt up by the Nile. The story I have to tell relates to that part ofthe world. 

"I had sailed up the Nile, by one of the ordinary river steamers, to aplace called Aboo Simbel, close to the Second Cataract. Here theordinary tourist stops, and stops too at the beginning of what reallyinterests an imaginative mind. There are, however, some fine ruins herewhich well repay one for a visit. Ah me! _One_ wishes he had lived threeor four thousand years ago when he stands among those ancient piles. There was some wisdom then, some knowledge of the deep things of life!However, I did not stay here. I went with my friend Kaffar away furtherinto the heart of Nubia. 

"I cannot speak highly of the rank and file of the people there. Theyare mostly degraded and uncultured, lacking"--here he bowed to theladies--"that delightful polish which characterizes those who live inthe West. Still I found some relics of the wisdom of the ancients. Oneof the sheiks of a village that lay buried among palm trees was deeplyversed in the things I longed to know, and with him I took up my abode. 

"Abou al Phadre was an old man, and not one whom the ladies wouldlove--that is, for his face, for it was yellow and wrinkled; his eyes, too, were almost buried in their cavernous sockets, and shaded by bushywhite eyebrows. Those who love the higher powers, however, and canrespect the divine power of knowledge, would have knelt at Abou's feet. 

"This wonderful man had a daughter born to him in his old age, born, too, with the same love for truth, the same thirst for a knowledge ofthings unseen to the ordinary eye. So much was this so, that she wascalled 'Ilfra the Understanding One. ' As the years went on sheoutstripped her father, and obtained a knowledge of that for which herfather had unsuccessfully studied all his life. 

"When Kaffar and I entered this village, she was nearly twenty years ofage, and was fair to look upon. It was rarely she spoke to me, however, for she dwelt with the unseen and talked with the buried dead. Abou, onthe other hand, was kind to me, and taught me much, and together wetried to find out what for years he had been vainly searching. What thatsecret was I will not tell. Only those who live in the atmosphere ofmystery can think rightly about what lies in the mind and heart of thetrue magician. 

"As I before hinted, 'Ilfra the Understanding One' had found out thesecret; her soul had outsoared that of her father and of all the sagesfor many miles around, and she would have revealed her knowledge both toher father and to me, but for one thing. Seven is a perfect number, andall the Easterns take it into consideration, and it is a law that no oneshall reveal a secret that they may have found until three times sevenyears pass over their heads. Thus it was, while we eagerly sought forthe mysterious power I have mentioned, we were buoyed up by the hopethat, though we might not be successful, Ilfra would reveal to us whatwe desired to know. "

"And thus the time passed on until we reached Ilfra's twenty-firstbirthday, with the exception of seven days. Both Abou and I were glad atheart; for although the secret, to me, would be as nothing compared towhat it would be to him, yet I could put it to some use, while, to him, it would dispel distance, time, and physical life. Through it thesecrets of astronomer and astrologer would be known, while the pages ofthe past would lie before him like an open book. 

"Judge his anguish then, and my disappointment, when, seven days beforeher twenty-first birthday, she was bitten by a cerastes, and her bodydied. Had she been near her home, her knowledge would have defied thepowers of this most deadly serpent's bite; for she knew antidotes forevery poison. As it was, however, the same kind of serpent that had laidthe beautiful Cleopatra low, likewise set at liberty the soul of Ilfra. Do not think Abou grieved because of her death. Death was not death tohim--his eyes pierced that dark barrier; he suffered because theglorious knowledge he longed for was rudely snatched from him. "

"'Thou man of the West who bearest the name of a Jewish king, ' he saidto me, 'this is a heavy blow. '

"'Not too heavy for you, Abou, ' I said. 'The soul has flown, but whenthe three times seven years is complete you can call her back and learnher wisdom. '"

"'I can call her back, but the secret--ah, I know it not, ' he said. "

By this time there was a deadly silence in the room. Every ear wasstrained, so that not one sound of Voltaire's voice might be missed. Asfor him, he sat with his eyes fixed, as if he saw beyond the presenttime and place, while his face was like a piece of marble. Kaffar, Inoticed, fixed his eyes upon his friend, and in his stony stare heseemed possessed of an evil spirit. 

None of the English guests spoke when Voltaire stopped a second in hisnarration. All seemed afraid to utter a sound, except Kaffar. 

"Go on, Herod, " he said; "I am up in Egypt again. "

"It was little we ate, " said Voltaire, "during the next seven days. Wewere too anxious to know whether the secrets of the dead were to berevealed. Neither could we speak much, for the tongue is generallysilent when the soul is wrapped in mystery; and right glad were we whenthe day dawned on which the veil should be made thicker or altogetherdrawn aside. 

"We did not seek to know the mystery after which we were panting untilthe midnight of Ilfra's birthday. Then, when the earth in its revolutionspelt out that hour, we entered the room of the maiden whose soul haddeparted. 

"The Egyptians have lost much of the knowledge of the ancients, especially in the art of embalming. Often the sons of Egypt moan overthat departed wisdom; still the art is not altogether gone. The body ofIlfra lay embalmed before us as we entered. She had been beautiful inlife, but was more beautiful in death, and it was with reverence forthat beauty that I stood beside her. 

"'Fetch Helfa, ' said Abou to a servant, 'and then begone. '

"Helfa was Abou's son. Here, in England, you would cruelly designate himas something between a madman and an idiot, but the Easterns look notthus upon those who possess not their ordinary faculties. Through Helfa, Abou had seen many wonderful things, and now he was going to use himagain. 

"'Howajja Herod, ' he said to me, 'I am first going to use one of our oldmeans of getting knowledge. It has failed me in the past, but it willbe, perchance, more potent in the presence of Ilfra the UnderstandingOne. '

"With that he took some ink, and poured it in Helfa's hand. This ink wasthe most precious in his possession, and obtained by means not lawful torelate. When it was in his son's hands he looked at me straight in theeyes, until, while I was in possession of all my senses, I seemed tolive a charmed life. My imagination soared, my heart felt a wondrousjoy. 

"'Look, ' said Abou, 'look in Helfa's hand. '

"I looked intently. 

"'What see you, son Herod?'

"'I see a paradise, ' I replied, 'but I cannot describe it. The beautiesare incomparable. Ilfra is there; she mingles with those who are mostobeyed. '

"'See you anything by which the mystery can be learned?'

"'I can see nothing. '

"I heard a sigh. I had returned to my normal condition again, and hadtold nothing. 

"'I expected this, ' he said, 'but I will try Helfa. '

"The experiment with Helfa, however, was just as fruitless. 

"Then he turned to me. 'Son Herod, ' he said, 'prepare to see the greatestdeed ever done by man. All the knowledge and power of my life are to beconcentrated in one act. '

"With that he looked at Helfa, who staggered to a low cushion. 

"'Spirit of Helfa, leave the body, ' he said. 

"Instantly the eyes of Helfa began to close; his limbs grew stiff, and ina few seconds he lay lifeless by us. 

"'I have a mission for you, spirit of Helfa. Flee to the home of spirits, and bring back the soul of thy sister, that she may tell me what we wishto know. '

"When the command was given, I felt that a something--an entity--was gonefrom us. Abou and I were alone with the two bodies. 

"'What expect you, Abou?' I said, anxiously. 

"'If the labour of a lifetime has not been a failure, ' he said, 'thesetwo bodies will soon possess their spirits. '"

Again Voltaire stopped in his recital, and looked around the room. Hesaw that every eye was fixed upon him, while the faces of some of theyoung ladies were blanched with terror. Evidently they were deeplymoved. Even some of the young men shuddered, not so much because of thestory that was told, as the strange power of the man that told it. As hesaw these marks of interest, a smile crept over his face. He evidentlyfelt that he was the strongest influence in the room--that all had toyield to him as their superior. 

"I confess, " he went on, "that my heart began to beat quickly at thesewords. Fancy, if you can, the scene. An Egyptian village, not farremoved from some of the great temples of the dead past. Above our headswaved tall palm trees. Around was a strange land, and a wild, lawlesspeople. The hour was midnight, and our business was with the dead. 

"We had not waited above three minutes when I knew that the room waspeopled--by whom I knew not, except that they came from that land fromwhose bourne, your greatest poet says, 'no traveller returns. ' I lookedat Abou. His face was as the face of the dead, except for his eyes. Theyburned like two coals of fire. He uttered some strange words, themeaning of which was unknown to me, and then I knew some mighty forceswere being exerted in that old sheik's hut. My brain began to whirl, while a terrible power gripped me; but still I looked, and still Iremembered. 

"'Spirit of Ilfra, ' said Abou, 'are you here?'

"No voice spoke that I could hear, and yet I realized that Abou hadreceived his answer. 

"'Enter thy body then, spirit of my daughter, and tell me, if thoudarest, the secret I have desired so long. '

"I looked at the embalmed body. I saw the eyelids quiver, the mouthtwitch, and then the body moved. 

"'Speak to me, my daughter, and tell me all, ' said Abou. 

"I only heard one sound. My overtaxed nerves could bear no more; theliving dead was too terrible for me, and I fell senseless to the ground. 

"When I awoke to consciousness, I found only Abou and Helfa there. Thebody of Ilfra had been removed, where, I know not, for I never saw itagain; but Helfa was like unto that which he had been before. 

"'The secret is mine, son Herod, ' said Abou, 'but it is not for you tolearn yet. Be patient; when your spirit is prepared, the knowledge willcome. '"

Voltaire stopped abruptly. One of the young ladies gave a slight scream, and then he apologized for having no more to tell. 

"But has the knowledge come since?" asked a voice. 

I did not know who spoke, but it sounded like Gertrude Forrest's voice. I turned towards her, and saw her looking admiringly at this man whom Icould not help fearing. 

His answer was a beaming smile and a few words, saying that knowledgeshould never be boasted of. 

That moment my jealousy, which had been allayed, now surged furiously inme, and I determined that that very night I would match the strength ofmy mind with the strength of his. 

CHAPTER V

CHRISTMAS NIGHT--THE FORGING OF THE CHAIN

"You have more than redeemed your promise, Voltaire, " said Tom Temple, after a silence that was almost painful. "Certainly there is enoughromance and mystery in your story to satisfy any one. What do you thinkof it, Justin?"--turning to me. 

"Mr. Voltaire used the word 'imagination' in his story, " I replied, "andI think it would describe it very well. Still, it does not account formuch after one has read Dumas' _Memoirs of a Physician_. "

"Am I to understand that you doubt the truth of my words?" askedVoltaire sharply. 

"I think your story is all it appears to be, " I replied. 

Honestly, however, I did not believe in one word of it. On the very faceof it, it was absurd. The idea of taking a spirit from a living body andsending it after some one that was dead, in order that some secret mightbe learned, might pass for a huge joke; but certainly it could not bebelieved in by any well-balanced mind. At any rate, such was myconviction. 

"I have heard that Mr. Blake has attempted to write a novel, " saidVoltaire. "Perhaps he believes my story is made on the same principle. "

"Scarcely, " I replied. "My novel was a failure. It caused no sensationat all. Your story, on the other hand, is a brilliant success. See withwhat breathless interest it was listened to, and how it haunts thememories of your hearers even yet!"

This raised a slight titter. I do not know why it should, save that someof the young ladies were frightened, and accepted the first opportunitywhereby they could in some way relieve their feelings. Anyhow it arousedMr. Voltaire, for, as he looked at me, there was the look of a demon inhis face, and his hand trembled. 

"Do you doubt the existence of the forces I have mentioned?" he asked. "Do you think that the matters to which I have referred exist only inthe mind? Are they, in your idea, no sciences in reality?"

"Pardon me, Mr. Voltaire, " I replied, "but I am an Englishman. We arethought by foreigners to be very conservative, and perhaps there may betruth in it. Anyhow, I, for one, like tangible proof before I believe inanything that does not appeal to my reason. Your story does not appearreasonable, and, although I hope I do not offend you by saying so, Icannot accept it as gospel. "

"Perhaps, " said Kaffar, who spoke for the first time, "Mr. Blake wouldlike some proofs. Perhaps he would like not only to _see_ manifestationsof the power of the unseen, but to _feel_ them. Ah! pardon me, ladiesand gentlemen, but I cannot stand by and hear the greatest of allsciences maligned, and still be quiet. I cannot be silent when thatwhich is dearer to me than life itself is submitted to the cool test ofbigoted ignorance. You may not believe it true, but I would give much toknow what Ilfra the Understanding One knew. I was reared under Egypt'ssunny skies; I have lain under her stately palms and watched thetwinkling stars; I am a child of the East, and believe in the truthsthat are taught there. I have only dabbled in the mysteries of theunseen, but I know enough to tell you that what my friend says is true. "

Was this a ruse on the part of the Egyptian? Looking at the whole matterin the light of what followed I believe it was. And yet at the time Idid not know. 

"I am sorry, " I replied, "if I have caused annoyance. But we Englishpeople possess the right of our opinions. However, I do not wish to biasother minds, and trust that my scepticism may cause no unpleasantness. "

"But would Mr. Blake like to be convinced?" said Voltaire. 

"I am perfectly indifferent about the matter, " I replied. 

"That is very convenient for one who has stated his beliefs so doggedly. Certainly I do not think that is English; if it is, I am glad I am notan Englishman. "

With this he fixed his eyes steadily on me, and tried to fasten myattention, but did not at the time succeed. 

"I was asked for my opinion, " I said; "I did not force it. But still, since you place it in that light, I _should_ like to be convinced. "

By this time the interest manifested in the matter was great. Every onewatched breathlessly for what was to be done or said next, and certainlyI felt that I was regarded by the guests in anything but a favourablelight. 

I saw Voltaire and Kaffar exchanging glances, and I felt sure that Iheard the former say in Arabic, "Not yet. "

After this the two arranged to give us some manifestations of theirpower. While they were conversing I went across the room and spoke toMiss Forrest; but she was very reserved, and I thought her face lookedvery pale. 

"This is becoming interesting, " I said. 

"I wish you had said nothing about his story, " was her reply. 

"Pray why?"

She only shook her head. 

"Surely you do not believe in his foolish story or conjuring tricks?" Isaid laughingly. 

But she did not reply in the same vein. 

"Mr. Voltaire is a wonderful man, " she said, "a clever man. If I were aman I should not like to make him my enemy. "

"I have heard of an old saying at my home, " I replied, "which ransomething like this, 'Brag is a good dog, but Holdfast is better. '"

"Still I should have nothing to do with Brag, " she said. 

"I hope you will not, " I replied meaningly. 

She did not answer me, but I fancied she blushed; and again I felthappy. 

By this time Voltaire was ready with his performance. "You will see, " hesaid, "that here we have no chance for stage tricks. All is plain andopen as the day. Moreover, I will have no secrets from you even withregard to the subject itself. The phenomena that will be brought beforeyou are purely psychological. The mind of my friend Kaffar will be, by asecret power, merged into mine. What I see he will see, although in youridea of the matter he does not see at all. Now, first of all, I wish youto blindfold my friend Kaffar. Perhaps Mr. Blake, seeing he longs fortruth, may like to do this. No? Well, then, perhaps our host will. Thankyou, Mr. Temple. "

With this Tom Temple completely blindfolded the Egyptian, and then weawaited the further development of the matter. 

"Would you mind leading him to the library?" Voltaire continued. "Hewill certainly not be able to see anything of us here, and still he willnot be out of earshot. "

Kaffar was accordingly led into the library, blindfolded. 

"Now, " said Voltaire, "I told you that by a secret power his mind andmine became one. I will prove to you that I have not spoken boastingly. Will any gentleman or lady show me any curiosity he or she may have?"

Accordingly several of the party pulled from their pockets articles ofinterest, and of which neither Voltaire nor Kaffar could have known. Each time the former asked what the article was, and each time thelatter, although at a distance, correctly described it. 

A look of wonder began to settle on the faces of the guests, andexclamations of surprise and bewilderment were apparent. It was apparentthat nearly all were converts to his beliefs, if beliefs they might becalled. After a number of articles were shown and described, Kaffar wasrecalled, and was loudly applauded. 

"You see, " said Voltaire, "the evident truth of this. Certainly this isa very simple affair, and my old friend Abou al Phadre would have smiledat its littleness. Still it must convince every unprejudiced mind thatthere is something deeper and more wonderful than those things which areconstantly passing before your view. "

Miss Staggles, who had been almost as silent as a sphinx, spoke now. "Weare convinced that you are a wonderful man, " she said; "and what I haveseen to-night will be ever a matter of marvel, as well as thankfulnessthat I have been privileged to see it. "

This was evidently the opinion of every one in the room. Even GertrudeForrest was carried away by it, while Miss Edith Gray was enraptured atwhat she termed "a glorious mystery. "

"I should like, " said Miss Staggles, "to hear what Mr. Blake, the Thomasof the party, has to say to it. "

There was an ugly leer in the old woman's eye as she spoke, and thethought struck me that Voltaire had been making friends with her. 

"Yes, " said Voltaire; "I am sure we should all like to know whether Mr. Blake is convinced. "

"I am convinced that Mr. Kaffar has a good memory, " I said. 

"Good memory! What do you mean?"

"Why, Mr. Voltaire and his friends have come a few years too late tomake a good impression. I have not only seen a better performance at adozen entertainments, but I have found out the secret of what is called'thought-reading. '"

"Do you mean to say you have seen similar feats before?" asked Voltaire, savagely. 

"At least a dozen times, " I replied. "In a few years' time, we shall seethe like performed on the sands at our fashionable watering-places. "

"I am glad, " said Kaffar, "that the education of your country has so faradvanced. "

I went on talking, not realizing that I was all the time forging a chainthat should hold me in cruel bondage. "I am afraid it says very littlefor our education, " I replied. "Some clever fellow has invented a cleversystem for asking and answering questions, and those who have taken thetrouble to learn it have been able to deceive a credulous public. "

Voltaire's eyes flashed fire. All the malignity and cruelty that couldbe expressed in a human face I thought I saw expressed in his. And yethe wore his old fascinating smile; he never lost his seemingself-possession. 

"I must deny Mr. Blake's statement, " he said; "and, further, I woulddefy him to find or produce such a code of questions as he mentions. "

I immediately left the room, and soon afterwards returned with a book bya renowned thought-reader, wherein he explained what, to so many, hasappeared marvellous. I pointed out how, according to his system, byasking a question, the first word of which should begin with a certainletter, a particular thing should be indicated, and all that would beneeded was that the performers should be perfectly conversant with thesystem. 

The company quickly saw the truth of what I was saying, and for thetime, at any rate, Mr. Voltaire's marvellous knowledge was held at adiscount. "But does Mr. Blake mean to insinuate that Mr. Kaffar andmyself have learnt such a code as this?" said Voltaire at length. 

"I insinuate nothing, " I replied. "I am simply showing how yourperformance can be done by those possessing no knowledge of the occultsciences. "

"But does Mr. Blake decline to believe that we know nothing of themysterious--that we have not dived into subjects of which the ordinarymind can know nothing?" said Kaffar. 

"Pardon me, " I replied, "but I decline to answer. I have not volunteeredany opinion either as to Mr. Voltaire's story or your performance. I wasasked my opinion, and I gave it. "

I watched Mr. Voltaire's face as I spoke. He seemed to be pondering somematter in his mind, and appeared irresolute as to what action he shouldtake. At length, a strange light shot from his eyes, and he raised hishead and spoke. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, " he said, "evidently Mr. Blake, with his hardEnglish common-sense, has raised some amount of doubt in your minds asto the validity of my story and of our performance. I am sure you willallow me to vindicate and prove any assertion I have made. If I haveclaimed a knowledge of the mysterious, I have not done so withoutreason. "

"We believe that is true, " said Miss Staggles; "we believe you are awonderful man. "

"Thank you, " said Voltaire. "I am sure I have Miss Staggles' sympathies, but will some one assist me in what I am about to do? I will allow nopossibility of a _system_ in this, and consequently I shall be glad ifany gentleman will help me in the manifestation of the hidden powers ofthe human mind. Perhaps"--turning, I thought, eagerly to me--"Mr. Blakewill be the one?"

"No, " I said; "I prefer to be a spectator. "

I could no longer mistake the hate that flashed from his eyes; but hesaid nothing, and waited quietly for a volunteer. No one wasforthcoming. At length Tom Temple said--

"Would one of the servants do, Voltaire?"

"I would rather have a visitor, " said Voltaire, "and for two reasons:first, you could not then have any reason for suspecting a collusion;and, second, the ordinary English servant is extremely unsusceptible tothe play of higher powers. If, however, none of you will volunteer, Ican see no other alternative. "

Accordingly, a man about my own age was brought in, and introduced asSimon Slowden. I saw that he was no ordinary character as soon as heentered, and was by no means one who could be easily imposed upon. Iafterwards found that Simon had spent his boyhood in London, had when ayouth joined a travelling circus, and tramped the country for a fewyears. He had also travelled with several "shows, " two or threetravelling theatres, and had finally settled down with a lame leg atTemple Hall, where he made himself generally useful. 

His dialect was a mixture of the Cockney and a dozen others equally bad, until it was almost impossible to tell from that source the part of thecountry from which he hailed. He was, however, a good-hearted fellow, and for a wonder, considering his history, as honest as the day. 

"Now, Simon, " said Tom Temple, "this gentleman is a scientist and wantsto show some experiments, and he can't get any one to assist him, so Ithought I'd ask you. "

"Well, " said Simon, "I don't know as I think mich on these sciencegents. They're allays a-bringin' in some new-fangled thing or other, butgenerally there's nowt in 'em. Still, to 'blige the company, I'll do owtraisonable. I'm tough has a crocodile's tongue, and can stand a goodishbit o' jingo and nonsense. Here goes, yer honour. " Voltaire eyed himdoubtfully, and Simon coolly returned the stare. 

"You are not a-gwine to waccinate me, be 'ee?" said Simon at length. 

"No--why?"

"'Cause I can't stand that, tough as I be. I lived wi' a doctor once, and says he to me, 'Simon, I want to speriment on ye, ' says he. 'I'mtough 'nough, ' says I. 'I want to waccinate you 'gainst cholera, hoopin'cough, and small-pox, ' says he. 'What's that? give 'em to me?' says I. 'No, ' says he, 'but to prevent you from a hevin' 'em. ' 'That's yersorts, ' says I. Well, gentlemen, he waccinated me, and I said to un, 'Never no more, yer honour. '"

"Why?" asked I. 

"'Cause I'd rather hev cholera, hoopin' cough, and small-pox alltogether than be waccinated. Jes like women, you never know wherethey'll break out. "

"Will you kindly sit down, " said Voltaire, "while I go to my room for abook?"

While he was gone I went to Simon, and spoke to him, and that gentlemangot very communicative. 

"I'm not overmich in love wi' that chap, " he says; "and sure's I'm aright-down Cockney, he hates you like pizen. Give 'im a wide berth, yerhonour, and doan't hev nothin' to do wi' 'im. "

"Oh, " I replied, "he can't hurt me. "

"Don't know, yer honour. You and he's got your peepers fixed in the sameplace, and scuse me; but if you give 'im a chance, he'll beat yer. He'dcharm a serpiant vith thews peepers o' hisn. "

"Aren't you afraid yourself, then?"

"He can't hurt me, for I'm too tough, and I'm noan sighin' for anybody, I ain't; and I hain't a got a good-lookin' jib, and--"

But here Voltaire entered the room and spoke to Tom Temple. 

"Simon, " said Tom a second after, "what colour are the chestnut mare'seyes?"

Simon heaved himself, struggled, looked vacant, and said dreamily, "They're loike women, and--waccination, you--you--" But a film came overhis eyes, and he was unconscious. 

Again there was deathly silence in the room, and all eyes were turnedtowards Voltaire, who had walked close to Simon Slowden. 

"The man is not very susceptible, " said Voltaire, "consequently I cannotdo so much with him as I should had he been more highly organized; but Ican at least convince sceptics. You will see, " he went on, "that I havenot touched him, and yet he is no longer conscious. I will now ask himany question, concerning either the dead or the living, that you may beinclined to ask. "

"I will ask a test question, " said Gertrude Forrest. "What are theservants doing at this time?"

"The cook's examinin' a goose, " was the reply, "and the housemaid'stalking wi' a chap as is just come from t' village. "

He went on telling what the rest were doing; but Tom Temple immediatelysent to the kitchen, and found that things were as was described. 

"Where's Dr. Sharp?" said Mrs. Temple, adding that they could easilyfind out the doctor's present whereabouts the next day. 

"He's comin' up here with his long-nosed pointer, " was the reply, "and'll be 'ere in a jiffy. "

Five minutes after, Dr. Sharp came into the room. "I did not know Icould come until half-an-hour ago, " he said as he entered, and thenstared as he saw how matters stood. 

"Will you tell me, " said Miss Forrest, "what my aunt is doing just now?"

She mentioned no name, and I do not know how the man sitting in thechair could know anything about her. 

"She is jest gwine to bed, " he said; "she's a bit ov a cold in 'erchest, and housekeeper is gwine to take some warmin' stuff to her. "

"I'll know if this is true to-morrow, " said Miss Forrest, and thenrelapsed into silence. 

Meanwhile question after question was asked and answered, while Voltaireand Kaffar stood side by side, each with a terrible glitter in his eyes. 

Under some secret influence Simon Slowden was led to the piano, andthere executed some of the latest and most difficult pieces of music, and, without hesitation, told things that were at least marvellous. Then, when excitement was at the highest, he woke up, and coolly rubbedhis eyes. 

No one uttered a word, we were all too much amazed. At last Voltaire, with a sidelong glance at me, asked whether we were convinced, and oneby one the members of the party expressed their wonder and astonishment. I, however, was silent. Some power of obstinacy seemed to possess me. Iwould not tamely admit his victory, after I had openly defeated himbefore. Still I did not speak a word. 

"Is Mr. Blake convinced?" said Miss Staggles, leering towards me. 

"Of what?" I asked. 

"Of Mr. Voltaire's power. "

"Undoubtedly. "

"Come, " said Kaffar, "Mr. Blake is still a sceptic. I think it fair thathe should consent to test this for himself. "

"Certainly not, " I replied. 

"But I think it our right, " said Voltaire. "You have expressed your wantof faith in our power; now, if you have the courage of a man with anopinion, test the matter. Sit here as Simon did, and see whether you areright. "

I thought I heard a voice saying "Don't!" close to my ear, and Ihesitated. 

At this there was a titter among the young ladies. 

"Evidently our Thomas is afraid, " said Miss Staggles. 

There was an ugly look in her eyes as she said this, but the titterincreased into a kind of derisive laugh. 

I know it was an evidence of my cowardice, but I could not withstandtheir laughter. I forgot the warning voice behind me; I refused to takenotice of Mrs. Temple's warning glance; I rose up, went to the chair inthe middle of the room, and defiantly said, "There! do all you can withme. "

Voltaire and Kaffar came up to me, while the rest crowded around. Theformer fixed his terrible eye upon me as if he would peer into my verysoul. A strange feeling began to creep over me; but I struggled againstit with all my strength, and for a minute I seemed to gain the mastery. I laughed in his face, as if I scorned his boasted strength. A strangegleam was emitted from his light grey eyes, while his lips became ashypale. Then I saw him grip Kaffar's hand. Instantly the room was peopledwith a strange crowd. Dark forms seemed to come from Voltaire's eyes;peculiar influences were all around me. The faces of the two men becamedimmer and dimmer, the people appeared to float in mid air, and I withthem; then something heavy seemed to move away, I thought I heardstrange creeping noises, like that of an adder crawling amidst thick drygrass, and then all was blank. 

CHAPTER VI

AFTERWARDS

When I awoke to consciousness I was in my bedroom. For some time I couldnot gather up my scattered senses; my mind refused to exercise itsproper functions. Presently I heard some one speak. 

"I had no idea he was so far gone, " a voice said. "You see, his power ofresistance is very great, and it needed four times the magnetism tobring him under that it did your servant. "

"I'm sorry you experimented on him at all, " said another voice. 

"Oh, I can assure you no harm's done. There, you see, he's coming to. "

I felt something cold at my temples, then a strange shivering sensationpassed over me, and I was awake. 

Voltaire, Kaffar, Tom Temple, and Simon Slowden were in the room. "Howdo you feel, Mr. Blake?" asked Voltaire, blandly. 

I lifted my eyes to his, and felt held by a strange power. "I'm allright, " I said almost mechanically, at the same time feeling as if I wasunder the influence of a charm. 

"Then, " said Voltaire, "I will leave you. Good-night. "

Immediately he left, followed by Kaffar, I experiencing a sense ofrelief. "Did I do anything very foolish?" I asked, recollecting theevents of the evening. 

"Oh no, Justin, " replied Tom. "And yet that Voltaire is a terriblefellow. Half the young ladies in the room were nearly as much mesmerizedas you were. You acted in pretty nearly the same way as Simon here, butnothing else. Do you feel quite right?"

"I am awfully weak, " I said, "and cold shivers creep down my legs. "

"You were such a long time under the influence, whatever it is, " saidTom. "But you'll go back to the drawing-room?"

"No; I don't feel up to it. But don't you remain. I'm feeling shaky, butI shan't mind a bit if you'll let Simon remain with me. "

And so Tom left me with Simon. "Do you feel shaky and shivery, Simon?" Iasked. 

"Not a bit on it, sir, " was the reply. "Never felt better. But 'tweenyou and me and the gatepost, yon hinfidel hain't a served me like he hevyou. I don't like the look o' things, yer honour. "

"Why, Simon?"

"Why, sir, 'tain't me as ought to tell, and yet I don't feelcomfortable. I wish I could 'a had a confabulation with yer afore thisperformance come off. I hain't got no doubts in my mind but thathinfidel and his dootiful brother hev got dealin's with the devil. "

Simon rose and went to the door, opened it, and peered cautiouslyaround. "That Egyptian is a watcher, " he said grimly, "and I don't likeeither of 'em. "

"What's the matter, Simon?"

"Why, this yer morning, I wur exchangin' a few pleasant remarks with oneof the maid-servants, when I hears the Egyptian say, 'It's gwinebeautiful. ' 'How?' says t'other. 'He'll nibble like hanything, ' was theanswer, and then I hearn a nasty sort o' laugh. Soon after, I see youwith a bootiful young lady, and I see that hinfidel a-watchin' yer, witha snaky look in his eyes. And so I kep on watchin', and scuse me, yerhonour, but I can guess as 'ow things be, and I'm fear'd as 'ow thiswaccination dodge is a trick o' this 'ere willain. "

"Explain yourself, Simon. "

"Well, sir, I knows as 'ow you've only bin yer one day, but I could seein a minit as 'ow you was a smitten with a certain young lady, and I cansee, too, as 'ow that white-eyed willain is smitten in the same quarter, and he sees 'ow things be, and he means business. "

It was by no means pleasant to hear my affairs talked of in this way, and it was a marvel to me how Simon could have learnt so much, but Ihave found that a certain class of English servant seems to find outeverything about the house with which they are connected, and I amafraid I was very careless as to who saw the state of my feelings. Atany rate, Simon guessed how things were, and, more than that, hebelieved that Voltaire had some sinister design against me. 

"What do you mean by what you call the vaccination dodge?" I asked, after a second's silence. 

"Scuse me, yer honour, but since that doctor waccinated me and nearlykilled me by it, tough as I be, I come to call all tomfoolery by thesame name. I've been in theatres, yer honour, and played in pieces, andI've known the willain in the play get up a shindy like this. I knowsthey're on'y got up to 'arrow up the feelin's o' tender females; but I'mafeared as 'ow this Voltaire 'ev got somethin' in his head, a-concoctin'like. "

"Nonsense, Simon, " I said. "You are thinking about some terrible pieceyou've acted in, and your imagination is carrying away your judgment. "

"I hope as 'ow 'tis, sur; but I don't think so. If you chop me up, sur, you'll not find sixpenno'th of imagination in my carcase, but Icalcalate I'm purty 'eavy wi' judgment. Never mind, sur; Simon Slowdenis in the 'ouse, if you should want help, sur. "

I did not feel much inclined to talk after this, and so, dismissingSimon, I began to think of how matters stood. Certainly everything wasstrange. Everything, too, had been done in a hurry. It seemed to me Ihad lived a long life in twenty-four hours. I had fallen in love, I hadmade an enemy, and I had matched myself against men who possessed aknowledge of some of the secret forces of life, without ever calculatingmy own strength. And yet I seemed to be beating the air. Were not mythoughts concerning Voltaire's schemes about Miss Forrest all fancy? Wasnot I the victim of some Quixotic ideas? Was not the creation ofCervantes' brain about as sensible as I? Surely I, a man of thirty, ought to know better? And yet some things were terribly real. My lovefor Gertrude Forrest was real; my walk and talk with her that day werereal. Ay, and the hateful glitter of Voltaire's eyes was real too; histalk with Kaffar behind the shrubs the night before was real. Thebiological or hypnotic power that I had felt that very night was real, and, above all, a feeling of dread that had gripped my being was real. Icould not explain it, and I could not throw it off, but ever since I hadawoke out of my mesmeric sleep, or whatever the reader may be pleased tocall it, I felt numbed; weights seemed to hang on my limbs, and my wholebeing was in a kind of torpor. 

I went to bed at length, however, and, after an hour's tossing, fellasleep, from which I did not wake until ten o'clock next morning. Ifound, on descending, that nearly all had breakfasted, but the few withwhom I spoke were very kind and pleasant towards me. I had no soonerfinished breakfast than I met Miss Forrest, and entered intoconversation with her. Once with her, all my dreads and fears vanished. Her light eyes and merry laugh drove away dull care, and soon I was inParadise. Surely I could not be mistaken! Surely the quivering hand, thetremulous mouth, the downcast eye, meant something! Surely she need notbe agitated at meeting me, unless she took a special interest inme--unless, indeed, she felt as I felt! At any rate, it were heaven tothink so. We had been talking I should think ten minutes, when TomTemple came towards us. 

"Say, Justin, my boy, " he said, "what do you say to a gallop of four?"

"Who are the four?" I asked. 

"Miss Forrest, Miss Edith Gray, Justin Blake, and--myself, " was thereply. 

"I shall be more than delighted if Miss Forrest will--" I did not finishthe sentence. At that moment I felt gripped by an unseen power, and Iwas irresistibly drawn towards the door. I muttered something aboutforgetting, and then, like a man in a sleep, I put on my hat and coatand went out, I know not where. 

I cannot remember much about the walk. It was very cold, and my feetcrunched the frozen snow; but I thought little of it--I was drawn on andon by some secret power. I was painfully aware that Miss Forrest mustthink I was acting strangely and discourteously, and once or twice Iessayed to go back to her, but I could not I was drawn on and on, alwaysaway from the house. 

At length I entered a fir wood, and I began to feel more my real self. Isaw the dark pines, from whose prickly foliage the snow crystals werefalling; I realized a stern beauty in the scene; but I had not time tothink about it. I felt I was near the end of my journey, and I began towonder at my condition. I had not gone far into the wood before Istopped and looked around me. The influence had gone, and I was free;but from behind one of the trees stepped out a man, and the manwas--Herod Voltaire!

"Good-morning, Mr. Justin Blake, " he said blandly. 

"Why have you brought me here?" I asked savagely. 

He smiled blandly. "You will admit I have brought you here, then?" hesaid. "Ah, my friend, it is dangerous to fight with a man when you don'tknow his weapons. "

"I want to know what this means?" I said haughtily. 

"Not so fast, " he sneered. "Come down from that high horse and let'stalk quietly. Yes, I've no doubt you would have enjoyed a ride with acertain lady better than the lonely walk you have had; but, then, youknow the old adage, 'Needs must when the devil drives. '"

"And so you've admitted your identity!" I said. "Well, I don't want yoursociety; say what you want to say, or I'm going back. "

"Yes, " he said, revealing his white teeth, "I am going to say what Iwant to say, and you are not going back until you have heard it, and, more than that, promised to accede to it. "

Again I felt a cold shiver creep over me, but I put on a bold face, andsaid, "It always takes two to play at any game. "

"Yes it does, Mr. Blake, and that you'll find out. You feel like defyingme, don't you? Just so; but your defiance is useless. Did you not comehere against your will? Are you not staying here now against your will?Look here, my man, you showed your hand immediately you came, and you'vebeen playing your game without knowing the trump cards. It looked veryinnocent to be mesmerized last night, didn't it? Oh, mesmerism is avulgar affair; but there was more than mesmerism realized last night. Iplayed three trump cards last night, Mr. Justin Blake. The Egyptianstory was one, the thought-reading was the second, the animal and mentalmagnetism was the third. I had tested my opponent before, and knew justhow to play. When I took the last trick, you became mine--mine, body andsoul!"

I still defied him, and laughed scornfully into his face. 

"Yes, you laugh, " he said; "but I like your English adages, and one isthis, 'Those laugh best who win. ' But come, " he said, altering his tone, "you are in my power. By that one act last night you placed yourself inmy power, and now you are my slave. But I am not a hard master. Do as Iwish you, and I shall not trouble you. "

"I defy you!" I cried. "I deny your power!"

"Do you?" he said. "Then try and move from your present position. "

I had been leaning against a tree, and tried to move; but I could not. Iwas like one fastened to the ground. 

He laughed scornfully. "Now do you believe?" he said. 

I was silent. 

"Yes, " he said, "you may well be silent, for what I say is true. Andnow, " he continued, "I promise not to use my power over you on onecondition. "

"Name it, " I said. 

"I will name it. It is this. You must give up all thoughts, all hopes, all designs, of ever winning Gertrude Forrest for your wife. "

"And if I refuse?"

"If you refuse, I shall have to make you do what I would rather youwould do willingly. Think as you will, but she can never be yours. I donot mind telling you now, for you dare not speak. I have marked her formy own; and, mark you, she must be mine. No power shall stop that. Ifyou presume to speak to her, I will stop you in the act. If ever youseek to walk with her, I will drag you away from her; nay, more thanthat, I will make you act in such a way as to make you, to her, anobject of derision. "

"But, " I said, "if you possess such a power over me, which I do notadmit, I will proclaim to every one in the house the villainous means bywhich you have possessed it. I will make you an object of hatred. "

His light eyes gleamed with an unearthly glare. "Think you I have notthought of that?" he said. "Try and tell of my influence over you, seekto speak one word against me, and mark the result. I defy you to utterone word. "

Again I was silent. I seemed hemmed in on every hand by this man'sterrible power. "Come, " he said, "do you consent to my terms? Do yourelinquish all thoughts, all hopes, of ever winning Gertrude Forrest?"

In spite of my strange situation, I could not help seeing two rays oflight. One was, that this man must have seen that Miss Forrest looked onme with a degree of favour; and the other was that, if his power was asgreat as he boasted, he needed not be so anxious to obtain my consent tohis terms. If I were wholly in his power, he could do with me as hewould, and need not trouble about any promises of mine. This led me todefy him still. 

"Herod Voltaire, " I said, "villain by your own admission, I do notbelieve in your power; but, admitting it for the moment, I still refuseto do what you ask me. You have guessed my secret. I love GertrudeForrest with all my heart, and I will promise neither you nor any otherman to give up hopes of winning her. And mark you this, too. Although byunlawful means you may have obtained mastery over me, as surely as thereis a God who cares for men, your power will be broken. Meanwhile, youmay force me to act against my will, but my will you shall never have!"

"Fool, idiot!" he cried, "you shall repent this. You shall be draggedthrough mire, dirt, pain, defeat, disgrace, and then, when all is over, you will find I have had my own way!" He made a step towards me. "Staythere for a quarter of an hour, " he said, "and then you may go where youwill. "

He rushed away, and left me alone. I tried to move, but could not; andyet I realized this--although my body was chained, my mind was stillfree and active. When the quarter of an hour was up, I went away, with agreat weight upon my heart, wondering, yet dreading, what would happennext. 

CHAPTER VII

DREARWATER POND

I will not try to describe my walk back to Temple Hall, or tell of theterrible sensations that I felt. Think, if you can, of my position. Ayoung man of thirty, a slave to a deep designing villain, held fast inhis power by some secret nervous or brain forces which he possessed. More than this, he had designs upon the woman I loved, while I waspowerless, nay, worse than powerless, for he might make me do thingswhich would be altogether opposed to what I believed right and true. When you realize this, you will be able to form some idea of how I felt. And yet I 'was not altogether without hope. I felt that life and love ofliberty were strong in me, and I determined that, though I might beconquered, it should not be without a struggle. 

Arriving at the house, I saw Simon Slowden. He evidently had a messagefor me, for, making a sign for me to stop, he quickly came to my side. 

"Yer nag is saddled, sur, " he said. 

I caught his meaning instantly. "Which way did they go, and how longhave they been gone?" I asked. 

"They're gone to Drearwater Pond, yer honour. Started 'bout half-an-hourago. "

"Any message for me?"

"The guv'nor told me, if I saw yer, to tell yer where they'd gone. "

"Who went with Mr. Temple?"

"Miss Gray and the other lady, yer honour. "

He had led out the horse by this time, and I was preparing to mount it, when I saw that he had something more to communicate. 

"What is it, Simon?" I said. 

He did not speak, but winked slyly at me, and then led the horse awayfrom the stable-yard. As he did so, I saw Kaffar come away from one ofthe lads who was employed about the house. 

"He's a spy, yer honour, a reg'lar Judas Iscariot. T'other chap's calledHerod, pity this one isn't called Judas. They be a bootiful couple, yerhonour. " He looked around again, and then said, "That murderin', waccinatin' willain is gone efter 'em, Mr. Blake. He came back justafter they'd gone, and went ridin' efter 'em like greased lightnin'. "

For a minute I was stunned. 

"I thought I'd better tell 'ee, yer honour, and then you'd know 'ow toact. "

I thanked Simon heartily; then, turning my horse's head towardsDrearwater Pond, I galloped away. I had not gone far before I began toquestion the wisdom of what I was doing. Was I right in thus openlydefying the man who possessed such a terrible power? It certainly seemedfoolish, and yet I could not bear the idea of his being the companion ofGertrude Forrest. Besides, it might stagger him somewhat to find thathis words had not frightened me. 

With this thought I gave my horse the rein. He was a beautifulhigh-blooded creature, and seemed to delight in making the snow crystalsfly around him, as he scampered over the frozen ground. 

I did not know the district at all, but I had been told in whatdirection Drearwater Pond lay, so I did not doubt that I should easilyfind them. When I came to the spot, however, those I hoped to find werenowhere to be seen, and so, guiding the horse up to the dark waters, Istood and looked at the little lake that bore such a sombre name. It wasindeed a dreary place. On one side was wild moorland, and on the other aplantation of firs edged the dismal pond. It might be about a quarter ofa mile long, and perhaps one-sixth of a mile wide. There were no housesnear, and the high-road was some distance away. It was not an attractiveplace for several reasons. The region was very drear, and, moreover, theplace had a bad reputation. The pond was said to have no bottom, while amurder having been committed on the moors near by, the country peoplesaid that dark spirits of the dead were often seen to float over theDrearwaters in the silent night. 

I stood at the edge of the water for some time; then I quietly led myhorse away around to the other side, where dark fir trees made thescene, if possible, more gloomy than it would otherwise have been. I hadnot been there long before I heard voices, and, looking up, I saw theparty walking towards me. Evidently they had fastened their horses inthe near distance, and were now seeking to better enjoy themselves bywalking. 

As they came near me, I made a slight noise, which drew their attention. Certainly I ought to have felt flattered by their greeting, especially, by that of Miss Forrest. 

"We thought you had been bewitched, Mr. Blake, " said Miss Gray, after afew trivial remarks had been passed. 

"Perhaps I was, " I said, looking at Voltaire. He stared at me as if inwonder, and a curious light played in his eyes. He had uttered no wordwhen he saw me, but he gave indications of his astonishment. 

"Well, " continued Miss Gray, "this is the proper place to be bewitched. Mr. Temple has been telling some strange stories about it. What was it, Mr. Temple?--a red hand appears from the water, and whoever sees it willbe led to commit murder?"

"Oh, there are dozens of stories about the place, " said Tom. "Indeed, there is scarcely a youth or maiden who will be seen here after dark. "

"Why?" asked Voltaire, suddenly. 

"Oh, as I said just now, it is reported to be haunted; but, more thanthat, the pond is said to have an evil power. Some say that if any onesees the place for the first time alone, his hands will be red withblood before a month passes away. "

"Then that will refer to me, " I said. "But surely such nonsense is notbelieved in now?"

"These things are not nonsense, " said Voltaire. "Earth and heaven arefull of occult forces. " I paid no further attention to the subject atthe time, but this conversation came back to me with terrible force inthe after-days. 

For a while we chatted on ordinary subjects, and then, remounting ourhorses, we prepared to ride back. During this time I had felt entirelyfree from any of the strange influences I have described, and I began towonder at it; especially so as Miss Forrest had voluntarily come to myside, and we had galloped away together. 

We took a roundabout road to Temple Hall, and so were longer together, and again I was happy. 

"I thought you were not coming, " she said. "What in the world drew youaway so suddenly?"

I tried to tell her, but I could not. Every time I began to speak of theinfluence Voltaire had exerted I was seemingly tongue-tied. No wordswould come. 

"I was very sorry, " I said at length, "but you did not want a companion. Mr. Voltaire came. "

"Yes, he overtook us. Is he not a wonderful man?"

"Yes, " I said absently. 

"I was so sorry you allowed yourself to be placed under his influencelast night. Did you not hear me asking you to avoid having anything todo with him?"

"Yes, " I said, "I am sorry. I was a coward. "

"I do not understand him, " she said. "He fascinates while he repels. Onealmost hates him, and yet one is obliged to admire him. No one couldwant him as a friend, while to make him an enemy would be terrible. "

I could not help shuddering as she spoke. I had made him my enemy, andthe thought was terrible. 

"He does not like you, " she went on; "he did not like the way youregarded his magical story and his thought-reading. Were I you, I shouldhave no further communications with him. I should politely ignore him. "

I watched her face as she spoke. Surely there was more than commoninterest betrayed in her voice; surely that face showed an earnestnessbeyond the common interest of a passing acquaintance?

"I do not wish to have anything to do with him, " I said, "and might Ialso say something to you? Surely if a man should avoid him, a womanshould do so a thousand times more. Promise me to have nothing to dowith him. Avoid him as you would a pestilence. "

I spoke passionately, pleadingly. She turned her head to reply, and Iwas bending my head so as not to miss a word when a subtle power seizedme. I did not wait for her reply, but turned my head in a differentdirection. 

"Let us join the others, " I stammered with difficulty, and rode awaywithout waiting for her consent. 

She came up by my side again presently, however, but there was a strangelook on her face. Disappointment, astonishment, annoyance, and hauteur, all were expressed. I spoke not a word, however. I could not; a weightseemed to rest upon me, my free agency was gone. 

"How do you know they are in this direction?" she said at length. "Wehave come a circuitous route. "

"They surely are, " I said. The words were dragged out of me, as if bysheer force of another will, while I looked vacantly before me. 

"Are you well, Mr. Blake?" she asked again. "You look strange. "

"Well, well, " I remember saying. Then we caught sight of three peopleriding. 

"Hurrah!" I cried, "there they are. "

I could see I was surprising Miss Forrest more and more, but she did notspeak again. Pride and vexation seemed to overcome her other feelings, and so silently we rode on together until we rejoined our companions. 

"Ha, Justin!" cried Tom, "we did not expect to see you just yet Surelysomething's the matter?"

"Oh no, " I replied, when, looking at Herod Voltaire, I saw a ghastlysmile wreathe his lips, and then I felt my burden gone. Evidently bysome strange power, at which I had laughed, he had again made me obeyhis will, and when he had got me where he wanted me, he allowed me to befree. No sooner did I feel my freedom than I was nearly mad with rage. Ihad been with the woman I wanted, more than anything else, to accompany, we had been engaged in a conversation which was getting more and moreinteresting for me, and then, for no reason save this man's accursedpower, I had come back where I had no desire to be. 

I set my teeth together and vowed to be free, but, looking again atVoltaire's eyes, my feelings underwent another revulsion. I trembledlike an aspen leaf. I began to dread some terrible calamity. Before mestretched a dark future. I seemed to see rivers of blood, and over themfloated awful creatures. For a time I thought I was disembodied, and inmy new existence I did deeds too terrible to relate. Then I realized anew experience. I feared Voltaire with a terrible fear. Strange formsappeared to be emitted from his eyes, while to me his form expanded andbecame terrible in its mien. 

I knew I was there in a Yorkshire road, riding on a high-blooded horse;I knew the woman I loved was near me; and yet I was living a dual life. It was not Justin Blake who was there, but something else which wascalled Justin Blake, and the feelings that possessed me were such as Ihad never dreamed of. And yet I was able to think; I was able to connectcause and effect. Indeed, my brain was very active, and I began toreason out why I should be so influenced, and why I should act sostrangely. 

The truth was, and I felt sure of it as I rode along, I was partlymesmerized or hypnotized, whatever men may please to call it. Partly Iwas master over my actions, and partly I was under an influence which Icould not resist. Strange it may appear, but it is still true, and sowhile one part of my being or self was realizing to a certain extent thecircumstances by which I was surrounded, the other enslaved parttrembled and feared at some dreadful future, and felt bound to do whatit would fain resist. 

This feeling possessed me till we arrived at Temple Hall, when I feltfree, and, as if by the wave of some magical wand, Justin Blake washimself again. 

Instead of following the ladies into the house, I followed the horses tothe stables. I thought I might see Simon Slowden, who I was sure wouldbe my friend, and was watching Kaffar closely, but I could not catchsight of him. Herod Voltaire came up to me, however, and hissed in myear--

"Do you yield to my power now?"

I answered almost mechanically, "No. "

"But you will, " he went on. "You dared to follow me to yonder lake, butyou found you could not ride alone with her. How terrible it must be tohave to obey the summons of the devil, and so find out the truth thatwhile two is company, five is none!"

I began to tremble again. 

He fixed his terrible eye upon me, and said slowly and distinctly, "Justin Blake, resistance is useless. I have spent years of my life infinding out the secrets of life. By pure psychology I have obtained mypower over you. You are a weaker man than I--weaker under ordinarycircumstances. You would be swayed by my will if I knew no more themysteries of the mind than you, because as a man I am superior toyou--superior in mind and in will-force; but by the knowledge I havementioned I have made you my slave. "

I felt the truth of his words. He was a stronger man than I naturally, while by his terrible power I was rendered entirely helpless. Still, atthat very moment, the inherent obstinacy of my nature showed itself. 

"I am not your slave, " I said. 

"You are, " he said. "Did you feel no strange influences coming back justnow? Was not Herod Voltaire your master?"

I was silent. 

"Just so, " he answered with a smile; "and yet I wish to do you no harm. But upon this I do insist. You must leave Temple Hall; you must allow meto woo and to win Miss Gertrude Forrest. "

"I never will, " I cried. 

"Then, " said he, jeeringly, "your life must be ruined. You must be sweptout of the way, and then, as I told you, I will take this dainty duckfrom you, I will press her rosy lips to mine, and--"

"Stop!" I cried; "not another word;" and, seizing him by the collar, Ishook him furiously. "Speak lightly of her, " I continued, "and I willthrash you like a dog, as well as that cur who follows at your heels. "

For a moment my will had seemed to gain the mastery over him. He staredat me blankly, but only for a moment, for soon his light eyes glittered;and then, as Kaffar came up by his side, my strength was gone, my handsdropped by my side, and unheeding the cynical leer of the Egyptian, orthe terrible look of his friend, I walked into the house like one in adream. 

CHAPTER VIII

DARKNESS AND LIGHT

During the next few days there was but little to record. The partyevidently forgot mesmerism and thought-reading, and seemingly enjoyedthemselves without its assistance. The young men and women walkedtogether and talked together, while the matrons looked complacently on. During the day there was hunting, skating, and riding, while at nightthere was story-telling, charades, games of various sorts, and dancing. Altogether, it was a right old-fashioned, unconventional English countryparty, and day by day we got to enjoy ourselves more, because we learnedto know each other better. 

Perhaps, however, I am using a wrong expression. I ought not to havesaid "we. " I cannot say that I enjoyed myself very much. My life wasstrange and disappointing. More than that, the calamities I dreaded didnot take place, but the absence of those calamities brought me nosatisfaction. And thus, while all the rest laughed and were joyful, Iwas solitary and sad. Once or twice I thought of leaving Temple Hall, but I could not bring myself to do so. I should be leaving the woman Iwas each day loving more and more, to the man who knew no honour, nomercy, no manliness. 

During these days I was entirely free from Voltaire's influence, as freeas I was before I saw him. He always spoke to me politely, and to acasual observer his demeanour towards me was very friendly. Kaffar, onthe other hand, treated me very rudely. He often sought to turn a laughagainst me; he even greeted me with a sneer. I took no notice of him, however--never replied to his insulting words; and this evidentlymaddened him. The truth was, I was afraid lest there should be somedesign in Voltaire's apparent friendliness and Kaffar's evident desireto arouse enmity, and so I determined to be on my guard. 

I was not so much surprised at my freedom from the influence he hadexercised over me the day after I had placed myself under his power, andfor a reason that was more than painful to me. Miss Forrest avoided evermeeting me alone, never spoke to me save in monosyllables, and was coldand haughty to me at all times. Many times had I seen her engaged insome playful conversation with some members of the party; but the momentI appeared on the scene her smile was gone, and, if opportunityoccurred, she generally sought occasion to leave. Much as I loved her, Iwas too proud to ask a reason for this, and so, although we were sofriendly on Christmas Day, we were exceedingly cold and distant when NewYear's Eve came. This, as may be imagined, grieved me much; and when Isaw Voltaire's smile as he watched Miss Forrest repel any attempt ofmine to converse with her, I began to wish I had never set my foot inTemple Hall. 

And yet I thought I might be useful to her yet. So I determined toremain in Yorkshire until she returned to London, and even then I hopedto be able to shield her from the designs which I was sure Voltairestill had. 

New Year's Day was cold and forbidding. The snow had gone and the icehad melted; but the raw, biting wind swept across moor and fen, forbidding the less robust part of the company to come away from thewarm fires. 

I had come down as usual, and, entering the library, I found MissForrest seated. 

"I wish you a happy new year, Miss Forrest, " I said. "May it be thehappiest year you have ever known. " She looked around the room as if sheexpected to see some one else present; then, looking up at me, she said, with the happy look I loved to see, "And I heartily return your wish, Mr. Blake. "

There was no coldness, no restraint in her voice. She spoke as if shewas glad to see me, and wanted me to know it. Instantly a burden rolledaway from my heart, and for a few minutes I was the happiest of men. Presently I heard voices at the library door, and immediately MissForrest's kindness and cheerfulness vanished, and those who entered theroom must have fancied that I was annoying her with my company. Iremained in the room a few minutes longer, but she was studiously coldand polite to me, so that when I made a pretence of going out to thestables to see a new horse Tom Temple had bought, I did so with a heavyheart. 

I had no sooner entered the stable-yard than Simon Slowden appeared, andbeckoned to me. 

"I looked hout for yer honour all day yesterday, " he said, "but you laylike a hare in a furze bush. Things is looking curious, yer honour. "

"Indeed, Simon. How?"

"Can 'ee come this yer way a minit, yer honour?" "Certainly, " I said, and followed him into a room over the stables. I did not like havingconfidences in this way; but my brain was confused, and I could not ridmyself from the idea that some plot was being concocted against me. 

Simon looked around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers; then hesaid, "There's a hancient wirgin 'ere called Miss Staggles, ain't there, Mr. Blake?"

"There is. Why?"

"It's my belief as 'ow she's bin a waccinated ten times, yer honour. "

"Why, Simon?"

"Why, she's without blood or marrow, she is; and as for flesh, she ain'tgot none. "

"Well, what for that?"

"And not honly that, " he continued, without heeding my question, "shehain't a got a hounce of tender feelin's in her natur. In my opinion, sur, she's a witch, she is, and hev got dealin's with the devil. "

"And what for all this?" I said. "Surely you haven't taken me up here togive me your impressions concerning Miss Staggles?"

"Well, I hev partly, yer honour. The truth is"--here he sunk his voiceto a whisper--"she's very thick with that willain with a hinfidel'sname. They're in league, sur. " "How do you know?"

"They've bin a-promenadin' together nearly every day since Christmas;and when a feller like that 'ere Woltaire goes a-walkin' with a creaturelike that hancient wirgin on his arm, then I think there must besomethin' on board. "

"But this is purely surmise, Simon. There is no reason why Miss Stagglesand Mr. Voltaire may not walk together. "

"There's more than surmise, sur. You know the plantation up behind thehouse, Mr. Blake?"

"The fir plantation? Very well. "

"Well, sur, the night afore last I wur up there. They are hevin' a kindof Christmas-tree in one of the Sunday schools over in the willageto-night, and some o' the teachers came to the guv'nor and asked him fora tree to put some knick-knacks on. So he says to me, 'Simon, ' says he, 'go up in the plantation and pull up a young fir tree, and then in themorning put it in the cart and take it over to the school-room. ' Thiswas day afore yesterday, in the afternoon. I was busy jist then, so Ididn't go to the plantation till 'twas dusk. However, as you know, yerhonour, 'tis moonlight, so I didn't trouble. Well, I got a young firtree pulled up, and was jist a-going to light my pipe, when I see somefigures a-comin' threw the plantation towards a summer-'ouse that wasput up 'bout two year ago. So I lied luff. 'I believe, ' I says, 'thatit's that hinfidel and the skinny wirgin a-walkin' together. ' They goesinto the summer-'ouse, and then I creeps down, and gets behind a tree, but close enough to the couple to hear every word. Sure 'nough, sur, Iwur right; it was the wirgin Staggles and this 'ere Woltaire. 

"'They seemed quarrellin' like when I come up, for she wur sayin'--

"'Tis no use, she never will. '

"'Nonsense!' says he. 'Give her time, and poison her mind against thatBlake, and she'll come around. '

"'I've done that, ' says she. 'I've told her that Mr. Blake is a regularmale flirt; that he's had dozens of love affairs with girls; and, besides that, I told her that her marked preference for him was beingtalked about. '

"'Yes, ' says Woltaire, 'and see how she's treated him since. '

"'True enough, ' says she; 'but it's made her no softer towards you. Ifshe avoids him, she dislikes you. '

"'And do you think she cares about Blake?' says he. 

"'I don't know, ' she replies. 'She never would tell me anything, andthat's why I dislike her so. But, for all that, she's no hypocrite. '

"'Well, what for that?' he asks. 

"'I went to her room last night, and I began to tell her more about himand compare him with you. '

"'Well?' says he. 

"'Well, she got into a temper, and told me that she would not allow Mr. Blake's name to be associated with yours in her room. '

"Then, sur, that 'ere willain he swore like a trooper, and said he'd makeyou rue the day you were born. After that, they were silent for a littlewhile, and then she says to him--

"'I believe she knows what you are wanting to do, and has some idea ofthe influence you have exerted over him. She's as sharp as a lancet, andit's difficult to deceive her. '

"'If only that Blake hadn't come, ' he says, as if talkin' to hisself. 

"'Yes, ' she says, 'but he has come, ' says she. 

"'But if he can be made to leave her, and never speak to her again, willit not show to her that he's what you said he was, and thus turn heragainst him?'

"'I don't know. She's been cool enough to drive him away, ' said that 'ereMiss Staggles. 

"'But if he leaves disgraced, proved to be a villain, a deceiver, ablackleg, or worse than that, while I show up as an angel of light?'

"'I don't know, ' she says. 'You are a wonderful man; you can do almostanything. You could charm even an angel. '

"'Well, you'll do your best for me, won't you?' says he. 

"'You know I will, ' she says; 'but we must not be seen together likethis, or they will suspect something. '

"'True, ' says he, 'but I want to know how things are goin' on. ' Then hestopped a minit, and a thought seemed to strike him. 'Miss Staggles, myfriend, ' he says, 'watch her closely, and meet me here on New Year'sDay, at five o'clock in the evening. It's dark then, and everybody willbe indoors. '"

"Then, yer honour, they went away together, and I was on the look-outfor you all day yesterday. "

There was much in Simon's story to think about, and for a time all wasmystery to me. One thing, however, I thought was clear. He had eitherfound he could do no good by his mesmeric influences, or else he hadlost them, and so he was working up some other scheme against me. Ipondered long over the words, "If he leaves disgraced, proved to be avillain, a deceiver, a blackleg, or worse than that, while I show up asan angel of light?" Surely that meant a great deal! I must be on thewatch. I must be as cunning as he. I did not like eavesdropping orplaying the spy, and yet I felt there were times when it would be rightto do so, and surely that time had come in my history. There wasvillainy to be unmasked, there was a true, innocent girl to be saved, while my reputation, happiness, and perhaps life were in danger. Idetermined I would meet stratagem with stratagem. I would hear thisconference in the wood that evening. I would seek to undeceive MissForrest, too, whose behaviour was now explained. Accordingly, after afew more words with Simon, I wended my way back to the house again. 

I found Miss Forrest still in the library, together with Tom Temple andEdith Gray. All three looked up brightly at my entrance. 

"We were just talking about you, Justin, " said Tom, as I joined them. "Ihad been telling these ladies what a terrible woman-avoider you havealways been. Miss Forrest wouldn't believe me at first; but that storyof your walking five miles alone, rather than ride in a carriage withsome ladies, has convinced her. I thought you had improved the first dayor so after you came, but you seem to have fallen back into your oldways. "

"Don't put the fault on me, Tom, " I said. 

"The fault has generally been with the ladies. The truth is, I'm not aladies' man, and hence not liked by them. I have generally been put downas a kind of bore, I expect, and I've never taken the trouble to improvemy reputation. "

"Then you ought, " said Miss Gray, laughingly. "It's a shame that youshould be under such a ban, because if a man can't make himself pleasantto ladies, what _can_ he do?"

"Well, I should like to turn over a new leaf, " I replied; "but then Idon't seem to please. I've no doubt my company is very tiring, and thusI must be left out in the cold. "

"Nonsense, " replied Tom. "Let us have another ride this afternoon, andsee whether you can't make Miss Forrest a pleasant companion. "

"If Miss Forrest would allow me, I should be delighted, " I said. 

I expected an excuse, such as a cold, a headache, or some previousengagement, especially as she had looked steadily into the fire while wehad been talking. Instead of this, however, she frankly accepted myescort, and accordingly the ride was arranged. 

Nothing of importance happened before we started. We had gone outquietly, and had attracted no notice, and rode away towards the ruins ofan old castle which Tom thought we should like to visit. 

As I stated, it was a raw, cold day; but I did not feel the biting wind, or notice the weird desolation that was all around. I felt supremelyhappy as I rode by Miss Forrest's side. 

We had gone perhaps two miles from the house, when we found ourselvesseparated from Tom Temple and Miss Gray, and we slackened our horses'speed to a walk. 

"Have you thought my conduct strange since we last rode out together?"she said. 

"I have indeed, " I replied bluntly, "especially as I do not rememberhaving done anything that should merit your evident dislike to me. "

"I owe you an apology, " she said. "I have been very foolish, veryunjust. I am very sorry. "

"But might I ask why you saw fit to change your conduct fromfriendliness to extreme aversion?"

"I'm almost ashamed to tell you, Mr. Blake, but I will. If there is onething for which I have aversion and contempt, it is for flirting, coquetry, and the like. If there is any species of mankind that Idespise, it is that of a flirt, a society man, a ladies' man. "

"And have I ever given evidence of belonging to that class, MissForrest?"

"No, " she replied; "and that is why I am so ashamed of myself. But Ilistened to some foolish gossip about your boasting of your conquestswith ladies and the like. I know I ought not to have listened to it, butI did. I am very sorry; will you forgive me?"

She said this frankly, and without hesitation; yet I thought I saw ablush mount her cheek as she spoke. 

"If there is anything to forgive, I do forgive you, " I replied, "especially as I despise that class of individuals as much as you. Thevapid, dancing society mannikin is everywhere an object of contempt, while a society girl, as generally accepted, is not a whit more to mytaste. "

I saw she was pleased at this, and I felt I loved her more than ever. Did she, I wondered, care anything for me? Was there any vestige ofinterest in her heart beyond that which she felt for any passingacquaintance?

"Mr. Blake, " she said, after pausing a second, "do you remember what wewere talking about that day when we last rode out together?"

"We were talking of Mr. Voltaire, " I said. "Have you found out anythingmore about him?"

"No, I have not. Is there any mystery connected with him?"

"I think there is. I have an indistinct kind of feeling that both he andthe Egyptian are deceivers, while I am sure that Mr. Voltaire is--isyour enemy. "

"I have no doubt he is, " I said. 

She looked at me strangely. 

"I had not been in Temple Hall two hours before that man had marked meas one that he would fain be rid of. "

"Indeed, " she said; "then if that is the case, you should listen to myadvice. Have nothing to do with him. "

"But I must have something to do with him, and with his friend theEgyptian as well. "

"Don't, " she said anxiously; "the two work together, and both arecunning as serpents. I believe, " she continued, after a pause, "that thethought-reading and mesmerism were somehow designed to injure you. Ithink somehow they are acquainted with forces unknown to us, and willuse them for evil. "

"Yes, I believe all that, " I said. 

"Then why must you have any dealings with them?"

"Because they will have dealings with me; because they are plottingagainst me; because there are forces, over which I have no control, drawing me on. "

"But why will they have dealings with you? Why are they plotting againstyou?"

"Because Voltaire knows that I love, with all my soul, the woman hewants to win for his wife. "

A curious look shot across her face. What was it? Love, astonishment, pain, vexation, or joy? I could not tell; but my tongue was unloosed. 

"Do I annoy you, astonish you, Miss Forrest?" I said. "Forgive me if Ido. I have been regarded as a woman-hater, a society-avoider. That isbecause I never saw a woman in whom I was sufficiently interested tocourt her society. I have heard it said that such characters fall inlove quickly, or not at all. The first day I saw you I fell in love withyou; I love you now with all my soul. "

She looked at my face steadily, but did not speak a word. 

"Voltaire has found out this, and he too wants you for his wife; so hehas been trying--is trying--to drive me away from here. How I cannottell you; but what I have said is true!" I spoke rapidly, passionately, and I saw that her face became alternately pale and red, but she did notreply. 

"Am I bold to speak thus?" I asked. "I think I must be, for I havescarcely known you a week. But I cannot help it. My life is given up toyou. If I could but know that my love were not in vain! If you couldgive me some word of hope!"

A beautiful look lit up her eyes; she opened her mouth to speak, when avoice shouted--

"Come, Justin; don't loiter so. We shall not get back in time fordinner, if you do. "

It was Tom Temple who spoke, and a turn in the lane revealed him. To sayI was sorry would be but to hint at my feelings. But I could not hinderthe turn things had taken, so we started our horses into a gallop, Ihoping that soon another opportunity might occur for our being alone, when I trusted she would tell me what I desired to know. 

I do not know how I dared to make my confession of love, for certainly Ihad but little proof of her caring for me. If I hoped, it was almostwithout reason; and yet, as we galloped on, my heart beat rightjoyfully. 

Nothing of importance occurred during the ride. The castle we visitedwas grim and grey enough; but it was not the kind of afternoon when onecould enjoy to the full such a place, so we were not long before weturned our horses' heads homeward. Time after time, on our homewardjourney, did I contrive to be alone with Miss Forrest, but always invain. She kept by the side of Edith Gray in spite of all my schemes toget her by mine. Her lips were compressed, and her eyes had a strangelook. I longed to know what she was thinking about, but her facerevealed nothing. 

We came to the house at length, however, and then I hastened from herside to lift her from the saddle. Then my heart gave a great throb, forI thought she returned the pressure of my hand. 

"Do be careful about that man, " she said hurriedly, and then ran intothe house. 

It was joy and light to me, and I needed it in the dark days that cameafter. 

The stable-boy had scarcely taken the horses when a thought struck me. Ilooked at my watch, and it was almost too dark for me to discern thetime, but I saw, after some difficulty, that it wanted but a few minutesto five. In my joy I had forgotten my determination, but now I quicklymade my way to the summer-house that stood in the dark fir plantation. 

CHAPTER IX

THE HALL GHOST

Perhaps some of my readers may think I was doing wrong in determining tolisten to the proposed conference between Miss Staggles and Voltaire. Ido not offer any excuse, however. I felt that if this man was to befought, it must be by his own weapons; such, at any rate, as I coulduse. I remembered the terrible influence he had exercised over me, thepower of which might not yet be broken. I remembered Miss Forrest too. Evidently this man was a villain, and wanted to make her his wife. Tostop such an event, I would devote my life. Something important might bethe result of such a conversation. I might hear disclosed the secret ofhis influence, and thereby discover the means whereby I could be free, and this freedom might, I hoped, make me his master. 

Anyhow, I went. The dark clouds which swept across the sky hid the palerays of the moon, and, clothed in black as I was, it would be difficultto see me amongst the dark tall trees. I hurried to the summer-house, for I wished to be there before they arrived. I was successful in this. When I came, all was silent; so I got behind a large tree, which, whileit hid me from any one entering the house, enabled me to be withinearshot of anything that might be said, especially so as thesummer-house was a rustic affair, and the sides by no means thick. 

Silently I waited for, I should think, half-an-hour; then a woman camealone. Evidently she was cold, for she stamped her feet against the woodfloor with great vehemence. Minute after minute passed by, and stillthere was no third party. Then I heard a low "hist. "

"You're late, " said the woman's voice, which I recognized as MissStaggles'. 

"Yes; and we must not stay long. "

"Why?"

"Because I think we are watched. "

"But why should we be watched? Surely no one perceives that we aresuspicious parties?"

"I cannot say. I only know I cannot stay long. "

"Why, again?"

"I have much to think about, much to do. " "And I have much to tell you. "

"I can guess it, I think; but I must know. Tell me quickly. "

He spoke peremptorily, as if he had a right to command, while she didnot resent his dictatorial tones. 

"They've been riding together again to-day. "

"I guessed it. Bah! what a fool I've been! But there, that may meannothing. "

"But it does; it means a great deal. "

"What?"

"I believe that he's asked her to be his wife. In fact, I'm sure hehas. "

"Darkness and death, he has! And she?"

"I hardly know; but as sure as we are alive, she likes him. "

"How do you know this?"

"I saw them come in from their ride, and so I guessed that they hadbecome friendly again. "

"Well?"

"Well, I met her in the hall. She looked as happy as a girl could welllook. I am a woman, so I began to put two and two together. I determinedto listen. I went up-stairs to my room, which, you know, is close toMiss Gray's and Gertrude's. If you had known girls as long as I, youwould know that they usually make friends and confidantes of each other. I found this to be true in the present case. Gertrude had not been intheir room above five minutes before Miss Gray came to the door andasked to come in. It was immediately opened, and she entered. "

"And what then?"

"I listened. "

"Just so; I expected that. But what did you hear?"

"I could not catch all they said; but I gathered that they had adelightful ride, that Mr. Blake had made a declaration of love toGertrude. "

"And her answer?"

"I could not catch that; she spoke too low. But I should think it wasfavourable, for there was a great deal of whispering, and after a whileI heard something about that dreadful man being Mr. Blake's enemy. "

"Ah! How did they know that?"

"I gathered that Mr. Blake told her. Look here, Herod Voltaire; you areplaying a losing game. "

"I playing a losing game? Do not fear. I'll win, I'll win, or--or--"Here he paused, as if a thought struck him. 

"Why don't you get an influence over her, as you did over Blake? Thenyou could manage easily. " "I cannot. I've tried; her nature is notsusceptible; besides, even if I got such a power, I could not use it. You cannot force love, and the very nature of the case would make such athing impossible. Stay! You know Miss Forrest well, don't you, hereducation, and her disposition?"

"I've known her long enough. "

"Well, tell me whether I am correct in my estimate of her character. IfI am, I do not fear. She's very clear-headed, sharp, and clever; a haterof humbug, a despiser of cant. "

"True enough; but what's this got to do with the matter?"

"In spite of this, however, " went on Voltaire without heeding MissStaggles' query, "she has a great deal of romance in her nature; has astrong love for mystery, so much so that she is in some things a triflesuperstitious. "

"I can't say as to that, but I should think you are correct. "

"Then she's a young lady of very strong likes and dislikes, but atbottom is of a very affectionate nature. "

"Affectionate to nearly every one but me, " muttered Miss Staggles. 

"She is intensely proud--"

"As Lucifer!" interrupted Miss Staggles. "This is her great weakness, "went on Voltaire. "Her pride will overcome her judgment, and because ofit she will do things for which she will afterwards be sorry. Is thistrue?"

"True to the letter. You must be a wizard, Herod Voltaire, or youcouldn't have summed up her disposition so correctly. "

"Her sense of honour is very great. She would sacrifice her happiness todo what was thought to be honourable. "

"I believe she would. "

"Then my path is marked out, " said he, savagely. 

From that time I could catch nothing of what was said, although theyconversed for five minutes at least. But it was in whispers, so low thatI could not catch a word. 

Presently they got up and went away, while I, with aching head andfast-beating heart, tried to think what to do. Everything was mystery. Icould not see a step before me. Why should Miss Staggles be so willingto help Herod Voltaire, and what were the designs in his mind? What washis purpose in getting at a correct estimate of Miss Forrest'scharacter?

I went to the house pondering these things in my mind, and, arrivingthere, heard the hall clock strike the quarter, from which I knew it wasa quarter past six. We were to dine at seven that day, and, as I did notusually make an elaborate toilette, I knew I had plenty of time. I feltI could not go in for a few minutes; my brain seemed on fire. I turnedto take a walk towards the park gates, when I heard a footstep, andturning, saw Simon Slowden. 

"Can you give me ten minutes before dinner, sur?" he said. 

"I dare say, " I said. 

He led me into the room in which we had spoken together before. "There'ssomething wrong, yer honour, " he said in a low voice. 

"How do you know?"

"Why, that 'ere Egyptian hev bin doggin' me all day. He's got a hinklin'as how we're tryin' to match 'em, and reckons as how I'm yer friend. Besides, to-day when I see you ride hoff with the young lady, I thinksto myself, 'There's no knowin' what time he'll be back. ' I know what'tis, yer honour; hi've bin in the arms o' Wenus myself, and knows as'ow a hour slips away like a minnit. So as there wur no tellin' if youwould get to the summer-house to-night at five o'clock, I thought I'djust toddle up myself. But 'twas no go. I sees they two willainsa-talkin' together, and when that 'ere Woltaire went off by himself, theother took it 'pon him to keep wi' me. I tried to git 'im off, but 'twasno use; he stuck to me like a limpet to a rock. "

"Perhaps it was all fancy, Simon. "

"No fancy in me, but a lot o' judgment. Fact, sur, I've begun to thinkfor the fust time as 'ow some things in the Bible ain't true. In thePsalms of Solomon it reads, 'Resist the devil and he'll go awayhowlin'. ' Well, I've resisted that 'ere devil, and he wouldn't go awaytill he'd knowed as how he'd played his little game;" and Simon lookedvery solemn indeed. 

"Is that all, Simon?"

"All, yer honour. 'Tisn't much, you think; but to me it looks mightysuspicious, as I said to my sweetheart when I see her a-huggin' andkissin' the coachman. "

I went away laughing, but my heart was still heavy. Try as I would, Icould not dispel the fancy that soon something terrible would happen. 

During dinner Kaffar made himself very disagreeable. This was somewhatunusual, as he was generally very bland and polite, but to-night he wasso cantankerous that I fancied he must have been drinking. To me he wasespecially insulting, and went so far as to hint that I, unlike otherEnglishmen, was a coward; that I hadn't courage to resist a manmanfully, but would act towards an enemy in a cunning, serpent-like way. This was not the first occasion on which he had sought to pick a quarrelwith me, and I felt like resenting it. I desisted, however, as therewere ladies present, and went on quietly talking to my neighbour as ifhe hadn't spoken. This roused his ire more, while I saw that Voltairewatched me with his light glittering eye, as if expecting a scene. 

After dinner, this being New Year's Day, we passed a more than usuallymerry time. Stories were told, old ballads were sung, while Roger deCoverley was danced in downright earnest by most of those who werepresent. By midnight, however, the old hall was silent; each of us hadrepaired to his room, and most, I expect, were quietly asleep, when aterrible scream was heard, after which there were shouts for help andhysterical cries. The sounds seemed to come from the direction of theservants' hall, and, quickly putting on some clothes, I hurried thither. I soon found that the noise had roused the whole household, and so, whenI arrived, I found a number of the guests had gathered together. Onlooking into the room, I saw that the housekeeper was lying in a swoon, one of the servants was in hysterics, while Simon Slowden, who was inthe room, and the page boy looked as white as sheets, and were tremblingevidently with fear. 

"What does this mean?" asked Tom Temple, a little angrily. 

At this the housekeeper became conscious and said in a hoarse whisper, "Is she gone?"

"What? Who do you mean?" asked Tom. 

"The hall lady, " she said fearfully. 

"We are all friends here, " said Tom, and I thought I detected an amountof anxiety in his voice. 

This appeared to assure the housekeeper, who got up and tried to collecther thoughts. We all waited anxiously for her to speak. 

"I have stayed up late, Mr. Temple, " she said to Tom, "in order toarrange somewhat for the party you propose giving on Thursday. The workhad got behind, and so I asked two or three of the servants to assistme. "

She stopped here, as if at a loss how to proceed. 

"Go on, Mrs. Richards; we want to know all. Surely there must besomething terrible to cause you all to arouse us in this way. "

"I'll tell you as well as I can, " said the housekeeper, "but I canhardly bear to think about it. Twas about one o'clock, and we were allvery busy, when we heard a noise in the corridor outside the door. Naturally we turned to look, when the door opened and somethingentered. "

"Well, what? Some servant walking in her sleep?"

"No, sir, " said Mrs. Richards in awful tones. "It looked like a woman, very tall, and she had a long white shroud around her, and on it werespots of blood. In her hand she carried a long knife, which was alsocovered with blood, while the hand which held it was red. She camecloser to us, " she went on with a shudder, "and then stopped, liftingthe terrible knife in the air. I cannot remember any more, for I was soterribly frightened. I gave an awful scream, and then I suppose Ifainted. "

This story was told with many interruptions, many pauses, many cries, and I saw that the faces of those around were blanched with fear. 

"Do you know what it did, Simon, " said Tom, turning to that worthy, "after it lifted its knife in the air?"

"She went away with a wail like, " said Simon, slowly; "she opened thedoor and went out. An' then I tried to go to the door, and when I gotthere, there was nothin'. "

"That is, you looked into the passage?"

Simon nodded. "And what did you think she was like?"

"Like the hall ghost, as I've heard so much about, " said Simon. 

"The hall ghost!" cried the ladies, hysterically. "What does that mean, Mr. Temple?"

I do not think Tom should have encouraged their superstition by tellingthem, but he did. He was excited, and scarcely knew what was best to do. 

"They say that, like other old houses, Temple Hall has its ghost, " hesaid; "that she usually appears on New Year's night. If the year is tobe good to those within at the time, she comes with flowers and dressedin gay attire; if bad, she is clothed in black; if there's to be deathfor any one, she wears a shroud. But it's all nonsense, you know, " saidTom, uneasily. 

"And she's come in a shroud, " said the servant who had been inhysterics, "and there was spots of blood upon it, and that means thatthe one who dies will be murdered; and there was a knife in her hand, and that means that 'twill be done by a knife. "

It would be impossible to describe the effect this girl's words made. She made the ghost very real to many, and the calamity which she wassupposed to foretell seemed certain to come to pass. I looked atGertrude Forrest and Ethel Gray, who, wrapped in their dressing-gowns, stood side by side, and I saw that both of them were terribly moved. 

Voltaire and Kaffar were both there, but they uttered no word. They, too, seemed to believe in the reality of the apparition. 

After a great deal of questioning on the part of the lady guests, andmany soothing replies on the part of the men, something like quietnesswas at length restored, and many of the braver ones began to return totheir rooms, until Tom and I were left alone in the servants' hall. Weagain questioned the servants, but with the same result, and then wewent quietly up-stairs. Arriving at the landing, we saw Miss Forrest andMiss Gray leaving Mrs. Temple at the door of her room. Tom hurried toMiss Gray, and took her by the hand, while I, nothing loth, spoke toMiss Forrest. 

"There's surely some trick in this, " I said to her. 

I felt her hand tremble in mine as she spoke. "I do not know. It seemsterribly real, and I have heard of such strange things. "

"But you are not afraid? If you are, I shall be up all night, and willbe so happy to help you. "

I thought I felt a gentle pressure of her hand, but I was not sure; butI know that her look made me very happy as she, together with EdithGray, entered her room a few minutes after. 

When they had gone, I said to Tom, "I am not going to bed to-night. "

"No?" said Tom. "Well, I'll stay up with you. "

"This ghost affair is nonsense, Tom. I hope you will not find anyvaluables gone to-morrow. "

"Real or not, " said Tom, gaily, "I'm glad it came. "

"How's that?"

"It gave me nerve to pop the question, " he replied. "I told my littlegirl just now--for she is mine now--that she wanted a strong man toprotect such a weak little darling. "

"And she?"

"She said that she knew of no one, whom she liked, that cared enough forher to protect her. So I told her I did, and then--well, what followedwas perfectly satisfactory. "

I congratulated him on his audacity, and then we spent the night inwandering about the first floor of the house, trying to find the ghost, but in vain; and when the morning came, and we all tried to laugh at theghost, I felt that there was a deep, sinister meaning in it all, andwondered what the end would be. 

CHAPTER X

THE COMING OF THE NIGHT

Directly after breakfast I went away alone. I wanted to get rid of anawful weight which oppressed me. I walked rapidly, for the morning wascold. I had scarcely reached the park gates, however, when a handtouched me. I turned and saw Kaffar. 

"I hope your solitary walk is pleasant, " he said, revealing his whiteteeth. 

"Thank you, " I replied coldly. 

I thought he was going to leave me, but he kept close by my side, as ifhe wanted to say something. I did not encourage him to speak, however; Iwalked rapidly on in silence. 

"Temple Hall is a curious place, " he said. 

"Very, " I replied. 

"So different from Egypt--ah, so different. There the skies are bright, the trees are always green. There the golden sandhills stretch away, the palm trees wave, the Nile sweeps majestic. There the cold windsscarcely ever blow, and the people's hearts are warm. "

"I suppose so. "

"There are mysteries there, as in Temple Hall, Mr. Blake; but mysteriesare sometimes of human origin. "

As he said this, he leered up into my face, as if to read my thoughts;but I governed my features pretty well, and thus, I think, deceived him. 

"Perhaps you know this?" he said. 

"No, " I replied. "I am connected with no mysteries. "

"Not with the appearance of the ghost last night?"

I looked at him in astonishment. The insinuation was so far from truethat for the moment I was too surprised to speak. 

He gave a fierce savage laugh, and clapped his hands close against myface. "I knew I was right, " he said; and then, before I had time toreply, he turned on his heel and walked away. 

Things were indeed taking curious turns, and I wondered what wouldhappen next. What motive, I asked, could Kaffar have in connecting mewith the ghost, and what was the plot which was being concocted? Therein the broad daylight the apparition seemed very unreal. The servants, alone in the hall at midnight, perhaps talking about the traditionalghost, could easily have frightened themselves into the belief that theyhad seen it. Or perhaps one of their fellow-servants sought to play thema trick, and ran away when they saw what they had done. I would sift alittle deeper. I immediately retraced my steps to the house, wheremeeting Tom, I asked him to let me have Simon Slowden and a couple ofdogs, as I wanted to shoot a few rabbits. This was easily arranged, andsoon after Simon and I were together. Away on the open moors there wasno fear of eavesdroppers; no one could hear what we said. 

"Simon, " I said, after some time, "have you thought any more of thewonderful ghost that you saw last night?"

Instantly his face turned pale, and he shuddered as if in fear. At anyrate, the ghost was real to him. 

"Yer honour, " he said, "I don't feel as if I can talk about her. I'veplayed in 'Amlet, yer honour, along with Octavius Bumpus's travellin'theatre, and I can nail a made-up livin' ghost in a minnit; but thisghost didn't look made up. There was no blood, yer honour; she looked asif she 'ad bin waccinated forty times. "

"And were the movements of her legs and arms natural?"

"No j'ints, Master Blake. She looked like a wooden figger without properj'ints! Perhaps she 'ad a few wire pins in her 'natomy; but no j'intsproper. "

"So you believe in this ghost?"

"Can't help it, yer honour. "

"Simon, I don't. There's some deep-laid scheme on foot somewhere; and Ithink I can guess who's working it. "

Simon started. "You don't think that 'ere waccinatin', sumnamblifyin'willain 'ev got the thing in 'and?"

I didn't speak, but looked keenly at him. 

At first he did nothing but stare vacantly, but presently a look ofintelligence flashed into his eyes. Then he gave a shrug, as if he wasdisgusted with himself, which was followed by an expression of grimdetermination. 

"Master Blake, " he said solemnly, "it's that waccinatin' process as hevdone it. Simon Slowden couldn't hev bin sich a nincompoop if he hadn'tbin waccinated 'gainst whoopin' cough, measles, and small-pox. Yerhonour, " he continued, "after I wur waccinated I broke out in a kind ofrash all over, and that 'ere rash must have robbed me of my senses; butI'm blowed--There, I can't say fairer nor that. "

"Why, what do you think?"

"I daren't tell you, yer honour, for fear I'll make another mistake. Ithowt, sur, as it would take a hangel with black wings to nick me likethis 'ere, and now I've bin done by somebody; but it's the waccinatin', yer honour--it's the waccination. In the Proverbs of Job we read, 'fooland his money soon parted, ' and so we can see 'ow true the teachin' isto-day. "

"But what is to be done, Simon?"

Simon shook his head, and then said solemnly, "I'm away from mybearin's, sur. I thought when I wur done the last time it should be thelast time. It wur in this way, sur. I was in the doctor's service aswaccinated me. Says he, when he'd done, 'Simon, you'll never havesmall-pox now. ' 'Think not?' says I. 'Never, ' says he; and when Susanthe 'ousemaid heard on it, she says, 'I am so glad, Simon. ' Then, saysI, 'Susan, when people are married they're converted into one flesh. That's scripter. You get married to me, ' says I, 'and you'll be keptfree from small-pox, without goin' threw this yer willifyin' process. 'Wi' that she looks at me, and she says, 'You are purty, and I'll try youfor three months; if you don't get small-pox in that time, whythen--we'll talk about it. ' So I says, 'Say yes at once, Susan. Thedoctor says I can't get it, so there's no sort o' fear. ' I wur young andsimple then, and thowt doctors never made a mistake. Well, sur, in twomonths more I were down wi' small-pox, and when I got up again I wur asight to behold. As soon as I wur fit to be seen I went to Susan to gita mite o' comfort, and then I see 'er a-courtin' wi' the coachman. And Isays to myself, 'Simon Slowden, ' I says, 'this yer is the last time youmust be ever taken in;' and now I'm right mad that I should 'a binlicked in this yer way. "

I could not help laughing at Simon's story, in spite of my heavy heart, and so I asked him what the doctor said when he found vaccination afailure. 

"Sent me off without a character, sur, " he replied grimly. "Said hecouldn't keep a servant as would be a livin' advertisement as 'ow hispet 'obby wer a failure. And so I allays say as 'ow waccination is myruin. It's ruined my blood and weakened my brain. Still, " continuedSimon, with a sly look, "I reckon as 'ow I'll be a match for that 'eredoubly waccinated ghost as frightened me so. "

I could get nothing more from him. He had formed some notion about theapparition which he would not divulge, so we devoted our attention tosport, and, after frightening a good many rabbits, we returned to thehall. 

Nothing of importance happened through the day, except an inquiry whichTom made among the servants. Each declared that they were entirelyignorant as to the appearance of the ghost, and all were evidently toofrightened to doubt the truth of their statement. Thus when evening camenothing was known of it. 

Kaffar did not speak to me from the time I had seen him in the morningto dinner-time, and evidently avoided me. Voltaire, on the contrary, wasunusually bland and smiling. He was pleasant and agreeable to every one, especially so to me. 

After dinner we all found our way to the drawing-room, when the usualsinging, flirting, and dancing programme was carried out. Suddenly, however, there was comparative silence. One voice only was heard, andthat was the Egyptian's. 

"Yes, " he was saying, "I am what is called a superstitious man. Ibelieve in dreams, visions, and returned spirits of the dead. But, ah! Ido not believe in made-up ghosts. Oh, you cold-blooded English people, don't mistake the impulsive Egyptian; don't accuse him of lack of faithin the unseen. So much do I believe in it, that sometimes I long to bewith those who have gone. But, bah! the ghost last night was to deceive, to frighten. Got up by some villain for a purpose, and I can guess whohe is. "

"This is serious, " said Tom Temple. "I have inquired of the servants, who all assure me of their entire ignorance of the matter, and I cannotthink that any of my guests would assume the person of the traditionalghost for no other purpose than to frighten the housekeeper and two orthree servants. I'm by no means superstitious, but I do not see how Ican trace it to human origin. "

"I cannot see why any guest should assume the person of the traditionalghost, but some men have deep designing minds. They are like cleverdraught-players; they see half-a-dozen moves ahead, and so do that whichto a novice appears meaningless and absurd. "

Then I heard another voice, one that caused my heart to beat wildly. Itwas Gertrude Forrest's. "Mr. Kaffar says he can guess who the person iswho has personated this ghost, " she said; "I think it fair to everyguest that he should speak out. "

"I would not like to say, " he said insultingly; "perchance I shouldwound _your_ tender feelings too deeply. "

"Mr. Kaffar will remember he's speaking to a lady, I'm sure, " said TomTemple. 

"Pardon me, " said Kaffar, excitedly; "I forgot I was in England, wheremen are the slaves of the ladies. With us it is different. We speak andthey obey. I forgot I was not in Egypt. I have done very wrong. Iimplore the lady's pardon. "

"I see no meaning in your words, " said Miss Forrest, quietly, "thereforeI see nothing to forgive. "

"Ah, I live again. A heavy load is gone from my heart! I have notmerited the lady's displeasure. "

"Still I think it right, if you have grounds for suspecting any one, that we should know, " said a voice; "otherwise some one may be wronglyaccused. "

"Do not ask me, " said Kaffar. "Ask Mr. Blake. "

Instantly all eyes were turned on me, and, do as I might, I could nothelp an uncomfortable flush rising in my face. "I do not know what Mr. Kaffar means, " I replied. "I am as ignorant as to the origin of theghost as he is, perhaps more so. "

Instantly Kaffar leapt from his chair, and came up to me, his handsclenched, his black eyes gleaming, his teeth set together as if in aterrible rage. 

"You are a liar and a villain!" he screamed. 

"Ah, remember this morning. I accused him, gentlemen, of being connectedwith this ghost only to-day, and he flushed guiltily and was silent. Helooked like a Judas who betrayed his master. "

"Quietly, please, " I replied. "You did come to me this morning with somefoolish jargon about my being connected with last night's affair, but Iwas so surprised by the absurdity and foolishness of such a thing, thatI could not answer you before you ran away. "

"You hear?" shrieked the Egyptian. "So surprised, was he? If he was, itwas because I had found him out. "

"This man is mad, " I said. "Surely he ought to be shut up. "

"Mad, am I?" he shrieked. "Yes, and you are a liar, a coward, a villain!You are engaged in a fiendish plot; you are deceiving an innocent lady. Ah, I spurn you, spit upon you. "

"Mr. Kaffar, " said Tom Temple, "really this cannot be allowed. You mustremember you are among gentlemen and ladies. Please act accordingly. "

"Ladies there are, gentlemen there are, " shrieked the Egyptian; "buthe"--pointing at me--"is no gentleman. He is at once a viper, a villain, and a coward. I leave this house; I renounce pleasant society; I leavethis country--for ever; but before I go I would like to fight hand tohand with that giant, who--Ha!" He stood close to me and spat at me. "There!" he cried, and then he struck me in the face with all hisstrength. 

Instantly I leapt to my feet. This insult was too great. I couldscarcely restrain from striking him to the ground. I mastered myself, however, and so did not touch him. 

"I leave this house, " he said wildly. "Herod, send on my baggage toCairo. But"--turning to me--"you I challenge--you, with your big bodyand trained arms! But, bah! you dar'n't fight. You are a mooningcoward. "

He rushed out of the room as he spoke, and a minute later I heard thehall door slammed with vehemence. 

At that moment I became possessed of a terrible passion. I seemed to bemad. I longed to avenge the insults that had been offered. I lookedaround the room, and all seemed astounded at the behaviour of theEgyptian, save Voltaire, who was apologizing in profuse terms for hisfriend. As I looked at his terrible eyes, my passion became greater, andI felt I could not govern myself if I stayed in the room. I think someone came up to me, and congratulated me on my coolness in dealing withthe man who had insulted me so; but I did not listen--I could not. Anovermastering impulse laid hold of me to follow the Egyptian, and Idimly remember going into the hall and out into the silent night. 

I knew the probability was that I should be followed, but I did not knowwhere to go, when I seemed to hear voices all around me uttering thewords "Drearwater Pond!" With that I started running with all my might, knowing not where, yet dimly remembering that I had gone the roadbefore. Then all memory and consciousness ceased. 

CHAPTER XI

DARK DREAMS AND NIGHT SHADOWS

I suppose I must have gone on blindly for some time, for when I againbecame conscious I stood beside a river, while tall trees waved theirleafless branches overhead. Strange noises filled the air. Sometimeswailing sounds were wafted to me, which presently changed into hisses, until it seemed as if a thousand serpents were creeping all around me. The waters of the river looked black, while above me were weird, fantastic forms leaping in the stillness of the night. No words werespoken, no language was uttered, save that of wailing and hissing, andthat somehow was indistinct, as if it existed in fancy and not inreality. By and by, however, I heard a voice. 

"Onward!" it said, and I became unconscious. 

 * * * * *

Again I realized my existence in a vague shadowy way. I stood beneaththe ruined walls of an Eastern temple. Huge columns arose in the air, surmounted by colossal architraves, while the ponderous stones of whichthe temple was built were covered with lichen. Large grey lizardscrawled in and out among the crevices of the rocks, and seemed to laughas they sported amidst what was once the expression of a great religioussystem, but which was now terrible in its weird desolation. By and bythe great building seemed to assume its original shape and becameinhabited by white-robed priests, who ministered to the people who cameto worship. I watched eagerly, but they faded away, leaving nothing savethe feeling that a terrible presence filled the place. I heard a noisebehind; I turned and saw Kaffar, his black eyes shining, while in hishand he held a gleaming knife. He lifted it above his head as if tostrike; but I had the strength of ten men, and I hurled him from me. Helooked at me with a savage leer. 

"Onward!" said a distant voice. 

The temple vanished, and with it all my realization of life, save avague fancy that I was moving somewhere, I knew not where. 

 * * * * *

I stood by a well-remembered spot. I was by the side of Drearwater Pond. Around me was a stretch of common land, on which grew heather andfurze. In front of me were noiseless waters, a dismal sight at the bestof times, but awful as I saw them. Across the pond in the near distanceloomed the dark fir trees. No sound broke the stillness of the night. The wind had gone to rest, the moon shone dimly from behind the mistyclouds. 

I stood alone. 

Each minute my surroundings became more real. I recognized more clearlythe objects which had struck me during my first visit, while the storieswhich had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness. Iremembered how it had been said that the pond had no bottom, and that itwas haunted by the spirits of those that had been murdered. The story ofits evil influence came back to me, and in my bewildered condition Iwondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said. 

What was that?

The waters moved; distinctly moved near to where I stood, and from theirdark depths something appeared--I could not at first tell what. 

What could it be? A monster of frightful mien? the ghost of somemurdered man or woman? I could have believed in either just then. It wasneither. 

What then? A human hand, large and shapely, appeared distinctly on thesurface of the pond. Nothing more, not even the wrist to which it mightbe attached. It did not beckon, or indeed move at all; it was as stillas the hand of death. 

I stood motionless and watched, while the outline of the hand becamemore clear; then I gave an awful shudder. 

_The hand was red. _

I gave a shriek, and for a time remembered nothing more. 

 * * * * *

I awoke to consciousness, fighting. At first it seemed as if I wasfighting with a phantom, but gradually my opponent became more real tome. It was Kaffar. 

I had only a dim hazy idea of what I was doing, except that I sought towrest from his hand a knife. We clutched each other savagely, andwrestled there on the edge of the pond. Weights seemed to hang upon mylimbs, but I felt the stronger of the two. Gradually I knew I wasmastering him--then all was blank. 

 * * * * *

A sound of voices. A flash of light. A feeling of freedom, and I wasawake!

Where?

Still by Drearwater Pond. No phantoms, no shadow, nothing unreal, savethe memory of that which I have but dimly described. That was but as aterrible nightmare--an awful dream. 

Where was Kaffar?

I could not tell. Certainly he was not near; but two other forms stoodby me, one bearing a lantern. 

"Is it you, Justin?" said a voice. 

"It is I, Tom, " I said, looking vacantly around. 

"And where is Kaffar?" said another voice, which I recognized asVoltaire's. 

"Kaffar? I--I do not know. "

"But you have been together. "

"Have we?" I said vacantly. 

"You know you have. What is that in your hand?"

I had scarcely known what I had been saying or doing up to this time, but as he spoke I looked at my hand. 

In the light of the moon I saw a knife red with blood, and my hand, too, was also discoloured. 

"What does this mean?" cried Voltaire. 

"I do not know. I am dazed--bewildered. "

"But that is Kaffar's knife. I know he had it this very evening. Whereis Kaffar now?"

"Is it true?" I remember saying. "Have we been together?" "That's hisknife, at any rate. And what is this?"

Voltaire picked up something from the ground and looked at it. "Kaffar's, " he said. "Look, Mr. Blake; do you recognize this?"

I looked and saw a finely-worked neckcloth, on which was written inArabic characters the words "Aba Wady Kaffar. " It had every appearanceof being soiled by severe wrenching, and on it were spots of blood. 

My faculties were rapidly returning to me, yet I stood as one in adream. 

"You say, Mr. Justin Blake, that you do not know where Kaffar is, yetyou hold in your hand his knife, which is red with blood. Here is hisscarf, which has evidently been strained, and on it are spots of blood, while all around are marks indicating a struggle. I say you do know whatthis means, and you must tell us. "

I reeled under this terrible shock. What had I done? Could it be that Ihad murdered this man? Had I? Had I?

"I do not know what it means, " I said. "I think I am ill. "

"Men usually are when they have done what you have, " he said. 

"Why, what have I done?" I said, in a dazed kind of a way. "Done!" herepeated. "You know best about that, in spite of the part you play. Nevertheless, Kaffar has not gone without leaving a friend behind him, and you will have to show how you came by that"--pointing to the knife, which I had dropped with a shudder; "this"--holding up the neckcloth;"you must explain these marks"--pointing to footmarks near the water'sedge; "besides which, you will have to produce my friend. "

A terrible thought flashed into my mind. I had again been acting underthe influence of this man's power. By some means he had made me theslave of his will, and I had unknowingly killed Kaffar, and he, like thefiend he was, had come to sweep me out of his road. Perchance, too, Kaffar's death might serve him in good stead. Undoubtedly the Egyptianknew too much for Voltaire, and so I was made a tool whereby he could befreed from troublesome obstacles. The idea maddened me. I would proclaimthe story to every one. If I were hanged I cared not. I opened my mouthto tell Tom the whole truth, but I could not utter a word. My tonguerefused to articulate; my power of speech left me. 

My position was too terrible. My overwrought nerves yielded at last. Ifelt my head whirling around, while streams of icy water seemed to berunning down my legs. Then I fell down at Tom Temple's feet. 

For some time after that I remembered nothing distinctly. I have someidea of stumbling along, with Tom on one side of me and Voltaire on theother, but no word was spoken until we came to Temple Hall. Then I heardTom say--

"He's better now. You go into the drawing-room as if nothing hadhappened, and I'll take him quietly up-stairs to bed. "

I entered the silent house like one in a dream, and went with Tom to mybedroom, where I undressed like a weary child, and soon sunk into a deepdreamless sleep. 

CHAPTER XII

A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE

Some one was knocking at the door. 

"Who's there?"

"Tom Temple. "

I sprang out of bed and let him in. He looked very grave, very worried. Instantly everything flashed through my mind in relation to our terriblemeeting of the night before. 

"It's nine o'clock, Justin. "

"Yes, Tom, I suppose it must be, " I said confusedly; "but I have onlyjust awoke. "

"I thought I must come; I want to talk with you. "

"Thank you, Tom; I am glad you have come. "

"How are you this morning? Is your mind clear?"

"Fairly. Why?"

"I must have some conversation with you about last night. Everything isconfusion. I can explain nothing. "

"Neither can I. "

He looked at me keenly and sighed. "Were you with Kaffar last nightafter he had so abominably insulted you and left the house?"

"I do not know. "

"Do you know where he is now?"

"No. "

"No idea whatever?"

"Not the slightest. "

"Justin, my friend, this looks very strange. Everything is terriblyblack, terribly suspicious. "

I tried to tell him all I knew; tried to tell him of my mad passion, andthe scenes through which I seemed to go; but I could not. My mindrefused to think, my tongue refused to speak, when that was the subject. 

"I suppose Voltaire has told every one the circumstances of last night?"I said at length. 

"No. "

"No one?"

"No one that will divulge anything. Every one else thinks that Kaffarhas gone back to Egypt, as he said, and especially so as Voltaire hasbeen making arrangements for his luggage to be sent to Cairo. "

"This is astounding. I do not comprehend in the least; but, tell me, who is this some one to whom you or he has related last night's affair, and why was it done?"

"I do not know whether I ought to tell or no, but you are an old friend, and I cannot refuse. After I had come down from here last night, andfancying that every one had retired, for it was quite midnight, I, knowing I was too excited to sleep, made my way to the library. I hadjust reached the door when I heard voices. I wondered who could be up atthat time of the night, but was not left to remain long in doubt. "

"'Mr. Voltaire, ' said a voice, 'you have been out looking for Mr. Blake;have you found him?'"

"'Mr. Blake is safe in bed before this, Miss Forrest--probably asleep, 'was his reply. "

"Miss Forrest!" I cried. "Did she go to him?"

"Evidently, " replied Tom. "Indeed, I found out afterwards that she hadbeen very anxious. She had seen you go out, and watched Voltaire and me, who went in search of you, and would not retire until she knew yourwhereabouts. "

"Well, what then?"

"I went into the room. I could not stand and play the eavesdropper. MissForrest seemed very glad to see me, and said eagerly--

"'I came down to ask whether you had found Mr. Blake. I am glad he issafe. '

"'And he must remain safe!' cried Voltaire. 

"'Why?' asked Miss Forrest. 

"'Miss Forrest, ' cried Voltaire, vehemently, 'you have been deprived ofyour rest to-night in order to know about one who is guilty of what youEnglish people call a foul crime, but which I call a deed that must beavenged. '

"'I do not understand you. '

"'Ah! Miss Forrest, we Easterns are not like you English people. You arecool and considerate; we are warm and impulsive. Kaffar was not one thatcould be loved by you cold people; but I loved him. We were more thanbrothers. I know he was faulty, I know he dared the anger of yourEnglish giant, but I did not think it would come to this. '

"'Come to what?' she asked eagerly. 

"'Voltaire, ' I said, 'is this quite fair?'

"'No, no!' he cried; 'but I am so excited that I can scarcely mastermyself. I will say no more. '

"'Come to what?' repeated Miss Forrest. 

"'I will not say, ' replied Voltaire. 'I will not wound your tendernature; I will not tell you a tale of villainy; I will not cause aripple on the even stream of your life. Retire to rest, sweet lady, andthink that what I have said is a dream. '

"'Villainy!' cried she. 'Tell me what it is. Yes, there is villainy, Ithink. I will be answered! Tell me the truth!'

"Even Voltaire was cowed by her words. He stood and looked at her for aminute as if in doubt what to do. Then he burst out passionately--

"'Yes, I will answer you. I will tell you now what all the world mustknow to-morrow. I had hoped to spare your feelings, but the tone of yourdemand makes me speak. '

"'He has no proof for what he is going to say, ' I said. 

"'Proof!' cried Voltaire. 'There is sufficient proof for an English courtof law, and that law is terribly hard on murderers. '

"'Murderers!' cried Miss Forrest. 'What do you mean?'

"'This!' cried Voltaire. 'You saw Kaffar challenge Mr. Blake in thedrawing-room?'

"'I saw him insult Mr. Blake. I saw that Mr. Blake refrained fromcrushing him beneath his heel like a reptile. I saw that!' she criedexcitedly. 

"'Just so, ' said Voltaire. 'Then Kaffar went out, and Mr. Blake wentafter him. '

"'After him! Where?'

"'Mr. Temple and I did not like the look on his face, and we followedhim. I traced his footsteps along the high-road for a long while, andthen we lost sight of them. We knew not where to go, when Mr. Templethought he heard voices away in the distance. We went in the directionof the sound, and came to Drearwater Pond. '

"'Drearwater Pond? That terrible place to which we rode the other day?'

"'The same, gentle lady. '

"'And then?'

"'When we came there we found Mr. Blake in a reclining position, with abloody knife in his hand. I recognized it as belonging to Kaffar. I sawsomething lying on the ground, and, on picking it up, found it to be ascarf which Kaffar had been wearing this very night. It was twisted andsoiled, and on it were spots of blood. Footmarks were to be seen on theedge of the deep pond, indicating a struggle; but Kaffar was nowhere tobe seen. '

"'It cannot be! It cannot be!' said Miss Forrest. 'But what then?'

"'I asked Mr. Blake questions. I accused him of many things, but hedenied nothing. '

"'Denied nothing?'

"'Nothing, Miss Forrest. He tacitly admitted everything. I wish I couldthink otherwise; but oh, I am afraid my friend, my only friend, liesmurdered at the bottom of Drearwater Pond, and murdered by Mr. Blake. '

"'It cannot be!' cried Miss Forrest. 'Mr. Blake could never, _never_ doso. There is some mistake. '

"He took something from his pocket which was wrapped in a handkerchief. He removed this wrapping, and there revealed the knife you held in yourhand. 

"'This blood cries out for vengeance, ' he said; 'ay, and it shall beavenged too. '

"She gave a scream as if in pain. 'Why, what will you do?' she cried. 

"'Were I in Egypt, my vengeance would be speedy, ' he said, his light eyesglittering; 'but I am debarred from that here. Still, there is a meansof vengeance. Your English law is stern. To-morrow the whole countryshall shudder because of this dark deed, and to-morrow night that man, Justin Blake, shall sleep in a felon's cell'

"'No, no!' she cried. 'Not that. Have mercy. '

"'Yes, yes!' he said, his voice husky with passion. 'What mercy did hehave upon my friend? I will have vengeance, and my vengeance is just. '"

Try as I might, I could not help shuddering at this. A felon's cell! Myname mentioned with loathing! 'Twas too horrible. I tried to conquermyself, however, and to tell Tom to go on with his recital. Hecontinued--

"'Does any one know of these things besides you two?' she said at length. 

"'No, ' replied Voltaire. 'No one has had a chance of knowing. '"

Tom stopped in his recital, as if he would rather not tell whatfollowed. 

"What next, Tom?" I cried eagerly. 

"I am thinking whether it is fair to her to tell you, and yet it isright you should know. "

"What was it, Tom?"

She threw herself down on her knees before us, and besought us to keepthe matter in our own hearts. 

"'It is not true!' she cried; 'Mr. Blake would never do such a thing. There is some mistake. Promise me no word shall be uttered as to this. Mr. Kaffar has left, as he said, and gone back to Egypt. Why, then, should such a terrible suspicion be aroused? I will answer for Mr. Blake's innocence. '

"'You answer, Miss Forrest?' cried Voltaire. 'Nay, you cannot. I would Icould be merciful, but it must not be. My friend's spirit would hauntme from town to town and land to land. '

"'Mr. Temple, ' she cried to me, 'you will not tell, will you? You willnot spread such a deceptive story about?'

"'No, ' I replied, 'I will not. Like you, I think there must be a mistake. My friend Justin could never do this. '

"'There, ' she cried to Voltaire; 'there's only you to be silent. Do itfor my sake!'"

I could not help feeling a great throb of joy in my heart at this. I wassure now that she loved me. I could bear anything after hearing thosewords. I was happy in spite of the terrible net that was woven aroundme. 

"'For your sake, ' said Voltaire--'for your sake I could do almostanything. For your sake I could give up home, friends, happiness, life. Yes, I say this, here, in the presence of my friend Temple. I couldforego anything for you. I would sacrifice father and mother for you. '"

I gave a great start. 

"Justin, that man trembled like a leaf. His face became ashy pale; histerrible eyes became brighter than ever. 

"'You ask me much, ' he continued. 'You ask me to give up what is now thedearest object of my life--except one. But, ah! I am an Eastern. I amselfish; I cannot sacrifice disinterestedly. There is only one thing forwhich I can give up my scheme of vengeance. '

"'Tell me what it is, ' she cried. 

"'Ah, sweet lady, I dare not tell; and yet I must. It is you. Be my wife, Miss Forrest; let me call you by your name, and I will wipe the bloodfrom this knife, I will destroy every evidence of the dark deed. JustinBlake shall not lie in a prison cell; his name shall not be a synonymfor devilry; he shall not be mentioned with loathing. '"

"And what then?" I cried. "What was her answer?"

"Man, she looked at him with loathing, but he did not see it. 

"'Be your wife?' she said. 

"'My wife, Miss Forrest, ' he replied. 'Love cannot be greater than mine. I love the very ground on which you walk. Be my wife and I will be yourslave. Your every desire shall be granted, and I will give up that whichis dear to me. '

"'And if I will not?' she said. 

"'Ah, if you will not! Then--ah, I am an Eastern, and cannot give upeverything. If I cannot have love, I must have vengeance. '

"'But you have made a mistake. Your friend is alive. It is absurd tothink that Mr. Blake is guilty of such a deed. '

"He pointed with a trembling hand to the bloody knife. 

"'I can have no stronger proof than that, ' he said, 'and that blood criesout for vengeance now. '

"'Oh, I cannot, ' she said, 'I cannot. '

"'You refuse me?' he said quietly. 

"'I must, I must, ' she cried. 'It cannot be!'

"He went to the writing-desk that stood near by, and commenced writing. 'If a poor Eastern cannot have love, he can still have vengeance, ' hesaid. 

"'What are you writing?' she cried. 

"'I am writing a letter to the superintendent of the nearest policestation, telling him to come with some men to Temple Hall to arrest amurderer. '

"'Have you no mercy?' she said. 

"'Mercy, lady. Only the Great Spirit above knows what I had made up mymind to give up, when I told you the condition on which I would besilent. I loved my friend as Jonathan loved David, and he isdead--murdered by an enemy's hand. Vengeance is one of the sweetestthoughts to an Eastern, and I meant to be avenged. You begged for hislife, and I offered it--for your love. I asked you to marry me--me, whowould give up everything for you; but you refused. I grieve for you, lady; but since I cannot have love, I must have revenge. '

"He went on writing, while Miss Forrest clasped her hands as if inprayer. 

"I am relating this very badly, Justin. I cannot remember many of thethings that were said; I cannot call to mind all the gestures, the tonesof voice, or the awful anguish which seemed to possess them both. I canonly give you a scrappy account of what passed. "

I remembered Tom's powers of memory, however, for which he had alwaysbeen remarkable at school, and I knew that the account he gave me wasnot far from correct, and I begged him to go on. 

"At length she turned to him again, " continued Tom. "'I am going toshow, ' she said, 'that I believe Mr. Blake innocent. You asked me forlove; that I cannot give you. I do not love you, I never shall love you;but such is my belief in Mr. Blake's innocence that I promise you this:if he is not proved to be guiltless within a year, I will marry you. '

"He leapt to his feet, as if to embrace her. 

"'No, ' she said; 'you have not heard all my conditions. Within that yearyou are not to see me or communicate with me. '

"'But, ' he cried, 'if Kaffar is dead, if these terrible evidences ofmurder are real, then in a year--say next Christmas Eve; 'twas onChristmas Eve we first met in England--then you will promise to be mywife?'

"'I promise. '

"'And your promise shall be irrevocable?'

"She turned on him with scorn. 'The promise of a lady is everirrevocable, ' she said. 

"'Ah!' cried Voltaire, 'love is a stronger passion than vengeance, and mylove will win yours. '

"'Meanwhile, ' she went on without noticing this rhapsody, 'if you breatheone word or utter one sound by which suspicion can fall on Mr. Blake, mypromise is forfeited; if you stay here after to-morrow, or attempt tosee me within this and next Christmas Eve, my promise is alsoforfeited. '

"'What, am I to leave you at once?'

"'At once. '

"He left the room immediately after, " said Tom, "while, after saying'Good-night' to me, she too retired to her bedroom. "

To say that I was astonished at the turn things had taken would not givethe slightest idea of my feelings. And yet a great joy filled my heart. The sword of Damocles, which seemed to hang over my head, possessed noterror. 

"Is that all, Tom?" I said at length. 

"This morning, as I told you, he arranged for Kaffar's luggage to besent to Egypt, while he himself is preparing to depart. "

"Where is he going?"

"To London. "

"And Miss Forrest?"

"She, I hope, will stay with us for some time. But, Justin, can youreally give no explanation of these things? Surely you must be able to?"

"I cannot, Tom. I am hedged in on every side. I'm enslaved, and I cannottell you how. My life is a mystery, and at times a terror. "

"But do you know what has become of Kaffar?"

"No more than that dog barking in the yard. All is dark to me. "

Tom left me then, while I, with my poor tired brain, tried to think whatto do. 

CHAPTER XIII

A MESMERIST'S SPELL

I found on entering the breakfast-room that my presence caused nosurprise, neither did any of the guests regard me suspiciously. It hadgone abroad that I had gone out to find Kaffar, but was unable to do so;and as Voltaire had publicly spoken of Kaffar's luggage being sent toCairo, there was, to them, no mystery regarding him. 

Several spoke of his going away as being a good riddance, and declaredhim to be unfit for respectable society; but I did not answer them, andafter a while the subject dropped. 

Voltaire, however, was not in the room; and when, after havingbreakfasted, I was wondering where he was, I felt the old terriblesensation come over me. I tried to resist the influence that was drawingme out of the room, but I could not. I put on my overcoat and hat, and, drawn on by an unseen power, I went away towards the fir plantation inwhich the summer-house was built. 

As I knew I should, I found Voltaire there. He smiled on me and liftedhis hat politely. "I thought I would allow you to have a good breakfastbefore summoning you, " he said, "especially as this is the lastconversation we shall have for some time. "

I thought I detected a look of triumph in his eyes, yet I was sure heregarded me with intense hatred. 

"Yes, " I said, "I am come. What is your will now?"

"This. I find that Mr. Temple has told you about an interview which washeld in the library last night. "

"Yes; it is true. "

"Do you know of what you are in danger?"

"No--what?"

"Hanging. "

"What for?"

"For murdering Kaffar. "

"Did I kill him? I remember nothing. What was done was not because ofme, but because of the demon that caused me blindly to act. "

"Names are cheap, my man, and I don't mind. Claptrap morality isnothing to me. Yes, you killed Kaffar--killed him with that knife youheld in your hand. I meant that you should. Kaffar was gettingtroublesome to me, and I wanted to get him out of the way. To use you asI did was killing two birds with one stone. You know that Miss Forresthas promised to marry me if Kaffar be not forthcoming by next ChristmasEve. That, of course, can never be, so my beautiful bride is safe;" andhe looked at me with a savage leer. 

"Have you brought me here to tell me that?"

"No; but to tell you a little good news. I have decided to hold you asthe slave to my will until the day Miss Gertrude Forrest becomes Mrs. Herod Voltaire, and then to set you free. Meanwhile, I want to give youa few instructions. "

"What are they?"

"You are not to take one step in trying to prove that Kaffar is alive. "

"Ah!" I cried; "you fear I might produce him. Then I have not killedhim, even through you. Thank God! thank God!"

"Stop your pious exclamations, " he said. "No, you are wrong. You didkill Kaffar, and he lies at the bottom of yonder ghostly pool; so thatis not the reason. Why I do not wish you to search for him is thatthereby you might find out things about me that I do not wish you todo. In such a life as mine there are naturally things that I do not wishknown. In going to my old haunts, trying to unearth Kaffar, you wouldlearn something about them. And so I command you, " he continued, in ahoarse tone that made me shudder, "that you do not move one step in thatdirection. If you do--well, you know my power. "

From that moment I felt more enslaved than ever. I shuddered at thethought of disobeying him; I felt more than ever a lost man. As I feltat that moment, in spite of my desire to let every one know this man'spower over me, I would rather have pulled out my tongue than have doneso. 

"Are those all your commands?" I said humbly. 

"Ah! you are cowed at last, are you?" he said mockingly. "You matchedyour strength with mine; now you know what it means. You did not think Icould crush you like a grasshopper, did you? Yes, I have one othercommand for you. You must go to London to-morrow, and go on with yourold work. You must not hold any communication with Miss Forrest, myaffianced bride. I myself am going to London to-day, and most likelyshall remain there for a while. Perhaps I shall want to see youoccasionally. If I do, you will quickly know. I shall have no need totell you my address;" and he laughed a savage laugh. 

"Is that all?" I said. 

"That is all. You will come to the wedding, Mr. Blake. You shall see herarrayed for her husband, dressed all in white, as a bride should be. Youshall see her lips touch mine. You shall see us go away together--thewoman you love, and the man who has crushed you as if you were a worm. "

This maddened me. By a tremendous effort of will I was free. "That shallnever be. Somehow, some way, I will thwart you, " I cried. "I will freemyself from you; I will snap your cruel chain asunder. "

"I defy you!" he said. "You can do nothing that I have commanded you notto do. For the rest I care not a jot. "

He went away, leaving me alone, and then all the sensations of theprevious nights came back to me. I remembered what the ghost wassupposed to foretell, and the evil influence the dark pond was said tohave. I saw again the large red hand on the water's surface. I recalleddimly the struggle, the fighting, the strange feeling I had as my sensesbegan to leave me. Could I have killed him? If I did, I was guiltlessof crime. It was not my heart that conceived the thought; it was not Iwho really did the deed. I had no pangs of conscience, no feeling ofremorse, and yet the thought that I had hurried a man into eternity washorrible. 

I wandered in the plantation for hours, brooding, thinking, despairing. No pen can describe what I felt, no words can convey to the mind thethoughts and pains of my mind and heart. Never did I love Miss Forrestso much, never was Voltaire's villainy so real; and yet I was to loseher, and that man--a fiend in human form--was to wed her. I could donothing. He had paralyzed my energies. He had set a command before mewhich was as ghastly as hell, and yet I dared not disobey. I, a young, strong man, was a slave--a slave of the worst kind. I was the plaything, the tool of a villain. I had to do as he told me; I had to refrain fromdoing what he told me I was not to do. I had done I knew not what. Perchance a hangman's rope was hanging near me even now. I could nottell. And yet I dared not rise from my chains, and see whether thethings I had been accused of doing were true. 

I went back to the house. Voltaire was gone, while the guests and familywere having their lunch. I felt that I could not join them, so I wentinto the library. I had not been there ten minutes when Miss Forrestentered. She looked pale and worried. I suppose that I, too, must havebeen haggard, for she started when she saw me. She hesitated a moment, and then spoke. 

"The whole party are going for a ride this afternoon. They have justbeen making arrangements. They are going to ask you to join them. Shallyou go?" she asked. 

"No; I shall not go, " I replied. 

"Will you come here at three o'clock?"

"Yes, " I said, wondering what she meant; but I had not time to ask her, for two young men came into the room. 

I went to my room and tried to think, but I could not. My mind refusedto work. I watched the party ride away--it was comparatively small now, for several had returned to their homes--and then I found my way to thelibrary. 

I sat for a while in silence, scarcely conscious of my surroundings; andthen I wondered how long Miss Forrest would be before she came, and whatshe would tell me. The clock on the mantelpiece began to strike three;it had not finished when she entered the room. 

I placed a chair for her beside my own, which she accepted without aword. 

For a minute neither of us spoke; then she said abruptly, "You told meyou loved me when we rode out together the other day. "

"I did, " I said, "and I do love you with all the intensity that a humanheart is capable of loving; but it is hopeless now. "

"Why?"

"You have promised to marry another man. "

"What do you know of this?"

Both of us were very excited. We were moved to talk in an unconventionalstrain. 

"Mr. Temple told me of your interview together last night. "

A slight flush came to her face. "But Mr. Temple has told you thecondition of the promise as well, " she said. 

"Yes; but that condition makes me hopeless. "

"What!" she cried. "But no, I will not entertain such a thought. You areas innocent as I am. "

"Yes, I am innocent in thought, in intent, and in heart; but as for thedeed itself, I know not. "

"I do not understand you, " she said; "you speak in words that convey nomeaning to my mind. Will you explain?"

"I cannot, Miss Forrest. I would give all I possess if I could. I havenothing that I would keep secret from you, and yet I cannot tell youthat which you would know. "

Did she understand me? Did her quick mind guess my condition? I couldnot tell, and yet a strange look of intelligence flashed from her eyes. 

"Mr. Blake, " she said, "my soul loathes the thought of marrying thatman. If ever my promise has to be fulfilled, I shall die the very day onwhich he calls me wife. "

My heart gave a great throb of joy; her every word gave me hope in spiteof myself. 

"Mr. Blake, " she continued, "I never must marry him. "

"God grant you may not, " I said. 

"I must not, " she said, "and you must keep me from danger. "

"I, Miss Forrest! I would give the world if I could: but how can I? Youdo not know the terrible slavery that binds me, neither can I tell you. "

"I shall trust in you to deliver me from this man, " she went on withoutheeding me. "You must prove yourself to be innocent. "

"To do that I must bring this man Kaffar. I know nothing of him. I couldnever find him. Oh, I tell you, Miss Forrest, a thousand evil powersseem to rend me when I attempt to do what I long for. "

"I shall trust in you, " she cried. "Surely you are sufficientlyinterested in me to save me from a man like Voltaire?"

"Interested?" I cried. "I would die for you, I love you so. And yet Ican do nothing. "

"You can do something; you can do everything. You can save me from him. "

"Oh, " I cried, "I know I must appear a pitiful coward to you. It is forme you have placed yourself in this position, while I refuse to try toliberate you from it. If I only could; if I dared! But I am chained onevery hand. "

"But you are going to break those chains; you are going to be free; youare going to be happy. "

Her words nerved me. The impossible seemed possible, and yet everythingwas misty. 

"Only one thing can make me happy, " I said, "and that can never be now. I have lost my strength; I am become a pitiful coward. "

"You are going to be happy!" she repeated. 

"Miss Forrest, " I said, "do not mock me. My life for days has been ahell. I have had a terrible existence; no light shines in the sky. Youcannot think what your words mean to me, or you would not speak them. "

"Will you not, for my sake, if not for your own, exert yourself? Willyou not think of my happiness a little? The thought of marrying thatman is madness. "

"Miss Forrest, " I cried, "you must think I have lost all manhood, allself-respect, when you hear what I say; but the only thing that couldmake me think of trying to do what is ten thousand times my duty to do, is that you will give me some hope that, if I should succeed, you willbe the wife of such a poor thing as I am. "

She looked at me intently. She was very pale, and her eyes shone likestars. Beautiful she looked beyond compare, and so grand, so noble. Shewas tied down to no conventionalities; whither her pure true heart ledher, she followed. 

"If you succeed, " she said, "I will be your wife. "

"But not simply from a feeling of pity?" I cried. "I could not let youdo that. I have manliness enough for that even yet. "

"No, " she said proudly, "but because you are the only man I ever did orcan love. "

For a minute I forgot my woes, my pains. No ghastly deed taunted me withits memory, no dark cloud hung in the skies. I felt my Gertrude's lipsagainst mine; I felt that her life was given to me. I was no longeralone and desolate; a pure, beautiful woman had trusted me so fully, sotruly, that hope dawned in my sky, and earth was heaven. 

"Now, Justin, " she said, after a few minutes of happy silence, "you mustaway. Every hour may be precious. God knows how gladly I would be withyou, but it must not be. But remember, my hope lies in you, and my loveis given to you. God bless you!"

She went away then and left me; while I, without knowing why, preparedto start for London. 

I had a great work to do. I had, if I was to win Gertrude for my wife, to break and crush Voltaire's power over me. I had to find Kaffar, if hewas to be found, and that to me was an awful uncertainty, and I had tobring him to Gertrude before the next Christmas Eve. 

Away from her the skies were dark again, great heavy weights rested onmy heart, and my life seemed clogged. Still her love had nerved me to dowhat I otherwise could never have done. It had nerved me to try; and so, with her warm kiss burning on my lips, I hurried off to the greatmetropolis without any definite idea why I was going. 

CHAPTER XIV

GOD

For the next three months I was an atheist! These are easy words towrite, but terrible to realize. No one but those who know can tell theterror of a man who has given up belief in an Eternal Goodness, in aliving God that cares for man. 

I left Yorkshire with some little hope in my heart--the memory ofGertrude's words was with me, cheering me during the long ride; but whenonce alone in my rooms, nothing but a feeling of utter desolationpossessed my heart. The terrible night on the Yorkshire moors came backagain, the dark forbidding waters, the ghastly red hand, the gleamingknife, the struggle--all were real. Did I kill him? I did not know. Possibly I was a murderer in act, if not in thought. I could not bear tothink of it. Who can bear to think of having taken away afellow-creature's life? And he might be lying in Drearwater Pond eventhen!

Then there was the terrible spell that this man had cast upon me. I feltit clinging to every fibre of my being. I was not living a true life; Iwas living a dual life. A power extraneous to myself, and yet possessingme, made me a mere machine. As the days and weeks passed away thingsbecame worse. I promised Gertrude to exert myself to find Kaffar, to sether free from her promise to Voltaire; but I could not do it. Hiscommand was upon me. I felt that it was ever in his mind that I shouldnot make any efforts, and I had to obey. And his power was evil, hismotives were fiendish, his nature was depraved. Still preachers talkedof a loving God, of the good being stronger than the evil. It could notbe. 

"Try! Try! Resist! Resist! Struggle! Struggle!" said hope and duty andlove; and I tried, I resisted, I struggled. And still I was bound inchains; still I was held by a mysterious occult power. 

Then it ceased to feel to be a duty to rid Gertrude of Voltaire. Whyshould I struggle and resist? Supposing I succeeded, was I any more fitto be her husband than he? What was I? At best a poor weak creature, theplaything of a villain. At any time he could exert his power and makeme his slave. But I might be worse than that. I might, with my own hand, have sent a man into eternity. How did I know it was Voltaire's powerthat made me do the deed? Might not my blind passion have swept me on tothis dark deed? But that could not be. No, no; I could not believe that. Besides, Voltaire had told me it was because of him. Still, I was notfit to be her husband. 

Then her words came back to me, and her pure influence gave me strength. She, so pure, so true, had seemed to understand my position, had bid mehope and be brave. She had told me she loved me--she, whom hundreds ofbrave men would love to call their own. I would try again. I _would_brake the chains Voltaire had forged; I WOULD hurl from me the incubusthat would otherwise crush me. 

I tried again, and again; and again, and again I failed. 

I did not pray. I could not. If God cared, I thought, He would help theinnocent. I was innocent in thought, and still I was not helped. God didnot care, for He helped me not. Months had passed away, and I had takenno forward step. I was still enslaved. The preachers were wrong; God didnot care for the beings He had made. 

There was no God. 

God meant "the good one. " "God is eternally good, all-powerful, if thereis a God. But there is not, " I said. Evil was rampant. Every day vicetriumphed, every day virtue suffered. Goodness was not the strongestforce. Vice was conquering; evil powers were triumphant. Why should anyexception be made for me? If there is a God, evil would be checked, destroyed; instead of which, it was conquering every day. There could beno God; and if no God, good and evil were little more than names. Wewere the sport of chance, and chance meant the destruction of anythinglike moral responsibility. I could not help being constituted as I was, neither could Voltaire help his nature. One set of circumstances hadsurrounded his life, another mine, and our image and shape wereaccording to the force of these circumstances. As for a God who lovedus, it was absurd. 

And yet who gave us love--made us capable of loving? Was love the resultof chance, which was in reality nothing? And again, whence the idea ofGod, whence the longing for Him? Besides, did not the longing for Himgive evidence of His being?

But I will not weary the reader with my mental wanderings; they aredoubtless wearisome enough, and yet they were terribly real to meAlthough I have used but a few pages of paper in hinting at them, theycaused me to lie awake through many a weary night. 

Still no help came. 

I went to a church one Sunday night. There was nothing of importancethat struck me during the service, save the reading of one of thelessons. It was the story of the youth who was possessed with a devil, which the disciples could not cast out. The minister was, I shouldthink, a good man, for he read it naturally, and with a great deal ofpower; and when he came to the part where Jesus came and caused the evilspirit to come out of him, my heart throbbed with joy. Was there hopefor me? Was Jesus Christ still the same wonderful power? Was He herenow--to help, to save?

That was at the end of three months. 

I went home and prayed--prayed to be delivered from the evil power whichchained me. 

I might as well have turned my thoughts in another direction for all thegood I could see it did me. The old numbing feeling still possessed me. My little spark of faith began to die. It was foolishness to think ofGod, I said. 

A week later, I walked in Hyde Park. An evil influence seemed to draw mein the direction of the Marble Arch. I had not gone far, when I metVoltaire. I knew then that I was more in his power than ever. He did notspeak--he only looked; but it was a look of victory, of power. 

I got into Oxford Street and got on a 'bus. Mechanically I bought apaper, one of the leading dailies. Listlessly I opened it, and the firstwords that caught my eyes were "Reviews of Books. " I glanced down thecolumn, and saw the words, "David Elginbrod, " by George Macdonald. "Thisbook is one of remarkable power, " the paper went on to say, "and willappeal to the highest class of minds. Its interest is more thanordinary, because it deals with the fascinating subjects of AnimalMagnetism, Mesmerism, and Spiritualism. Moreover, Dr. Macdonald showswhat enormous power, for evil or for good, may be exerted by it; indeed, the principal characters in the story are so influenced by it, that theauthor is led to make quite a study of these occult sciences. "

I did not read the review further; what I had read was sufficient todetermine me to buy the book. Accordingly, on my arrival in the City, Iobtained a copy; and then, with all possible haste, I made my way home, and, throwing myself in a chair, sat down to read it. 

I did not cease reading until I had finished what I regarded then, andstill regard, as one of the finest religious novels of the age. This mayseem to many extravagant praise; but when I remember the influence ithad on my life, I feel inclined to hold to my opinion. 

Putting aside the other parts of the book, that in which I was sofearfully interested might be briefly stated thus:--

Mesmerism and animal magnetism may be regarded as human forces. Thosepossessing them, and thereby having the power to mesmerize, maysubjugate the will of those who are susceptible to mesmeric influences, and hold them in a complete and terrible slavery. The oftener the victimyields to the will of the mesmerist, the stronger will his power become. There is only one means by which the person under this influence can befree. This is by obtaining a strength superior to that of the mesmerist, which is only to be realized by being in communion with a Higher Life, and participating in that Life. Only the Divine power in the life of thevictim can make him possess a power superior to the mesmerist's. Possessing that, he becomes free, because he possesses a life superiorto mere physical or human power. 

The victim in the book is led to seek that Divine Life in her, andalthough she loses her physical life, she dies freed from the terriblethraldom which has been cursing her existence. 

That is all I need write concerning the book I have mentioned, i. E. Descriptive of its teaching. 

It turned my mind into a new channel. The teaching seemed scientific andreasonable. If there were a God, who was the Source of all life, Hecould, by entering into the life of any individual, give him such forcesas would be superior to any other force. This was true, further, becauseall evil was in opposition to the laws of the universe, and thus thegood must overcome the evil. 

This, however, I clearly saw: if I would possess the power of God in me, I must submit myself wholly and unreservedly to Him. He had made me afree agent, and I must allow Him to possess me wholly. 

I will not describe what followed. It is too sacred a subject to parade. We cannot write on paper our deepest feelings; we cannot describe inwords the yearnings and experiences of the soul. Were I to try I couldgive no adequate idea of my hopes and fears, my prayers and struggles. To realize my life, a similar condition must be experienced. 

I ask, however, that I may be believed when I say this: a month later Ireally believed in God, and soon I began to realize His power. I felt anew life growing in me, a higher life. I began to be possessed of apower whereby I could conquer myself, subjugate my own will, and bemaster over my passions. The reader may smile as he or she reads this, but this is true: when I became possessed of a life whereby I becamemaster of my lower self, I felt free from Voltaire's power. I realizedthat to be master over myself meant being a slave to none. 

I was free, and I knew it. A fuller, richer life surged within me, enabling me to rise above the occult forces of our physical and mentalnatures. Hope lived within me, and confidence as to the future began toinspire me. 

CHAPTER XV

BEGINNING TO SEARCH

No sooner did I begin to feel freed from Voltaire's power than I beganto exert myself to find Kaffar, if indeed he were to be found. There wasmuch in my favour. I possessed freedom; I had plenty of money; I hadplenty of time. On the other hand, there was much against me. Was healive? Were Voltaire's words true? Had I in my mesmeric conditionyielded to his will in such a degree as to kill the wily Egyptian andhurl him in the pond? Again, if he were alive, where was he? Who couldtell? Supposing he had gone to Egypt, how could I find him? Possibly hehad a thousand haunts unknown to me. 

I determined to go to Yorkshire, and soon found myself within thehospitable walls of Temple Hall. The house was very quiet, however forwhich I was very glad. I wanted to talk quietly with Tom; I wanted toinvestigate the whole matter. 

When I had finished telling Tom my story, he seemed perfectly astounded. 

"What, Justin!" he exclaimed, "do you mean to say that the villain usedsuch means to get you out of his road and win Miss Forrest for himself?"

"I felt he was unscrupulous when I first met him, " I replied. "I am surehe guessed my secret, and determined to get me out of the way by fairmeans or by foul. "

We talked long concerning the matter; we tried to recall all that hadbeen said and done; but, in spite of all, we could not hit upon any planof action. 

"Do you think she will marry Voltaire, " I said, after a short silence, "if I cannot find Kaffar or prove that he is alive?"

"I am sure she will, Justin. Never did I meet with any one who has ahigher sense of honour than she. I believe she would rather die than doa mean thing. "

"And yet, " I said wearily, "I am almost certain I did not kill Kaffar. Ican remember nothing distinctly, and yet I have the consciousness that Inever struck him a blow. "

"And I, too, am sure you did not do this, Justin, " replied Tom. "I feltthat he was acting, in spite of the terrible evidence against you. Butwhat is the use? If you cannot find the Egyptian, he will marry MissForrest, and after that--well, all seems hopeless. "

"It shall not be hopeless, " I said. "If he is alive, he shall be found, and I will bring him back, and she shall see him. "

"Ah, yes; and that reminds me, Justin, she bade me tell you that shewould be in her own home at Kensington until after the next new year. "

This made me joyful in spite of everything. She still had an interest inme; she still believed me innocent. 

"By the way, Tom, " I said, after another short silence, "have you foundout anything in relation to the ghost which appeared here during myvisit?"

"Nothing definite. Stay, I forgot. Simon Slowden said he had somethingparticular to tell you when you came to Yorkshire again. I asked him thesubject of this 'something particular, ' and he said it was about theghost. I tried to make him explain further, but could not. "

"I'll see Simon at once, " I said. "I cannot afford to let anything passwithout examining it. Any little thing might give a clue to themystery. "

I sought Simon in the stable-yard, and found him as grim and platonic asever. 

"Glad to see yer honour, " said Simon, hastily. "I've made up my mindscores of times to write a letter, but I hev had sich bad luck wi'letters, that I 'adn't the necessary quantity o' pluck, you know. "

"Bad luck with your letters, Simon? How?"

"Why, yer see, yer honour, after the doctor experimented on me bywaccinatin' me agin' small-pox, cholera, and the measles, together wi''oopin' cough and several other baby complaints as 'ev a hinjuriouseffect upon people as 'ev cut their wisdom teeth, you know as I told yerhonour that I caught that 'ere werry disease of small-pox which spiledmy beauty for ever. Well, as I told yer months ago, I went to the'ousemaid for a mite 'o comfort, and catches 'er a-courtin' wi' thecoachman. So I goes 'ome, and I says I'll write 'er a letter as wouldcharm a dead duck in a saucepan. So I begins my letter this yer way: 'Mydearest dear, ' I says, 'times es bad, and people be glad to catchanything; so I, thinkin' small-pox better than nothin', catched that. Forgive me, and I'll never do so no more. I'm cryin' all the day, asthough I got my livin' wi' skinnin' onions. Relieve me, my dear, or myfeelin's will be too much for me. They be fillin' me faster 'n I candispose of 'em; and if you don't leave that 'ere coachman and smile onme, I shall either go up like a baloon, or else there'll be a case ofcombustion. ' I went on in that 'ere style, yer know, thinkin' she'd meltlike a h'yster in a fryin'-pan, but she didn't; and the next thing Ihears wus that the coachman wur at the willage alehouse readin' myletter. Since then I've guv up the tender passion and guv up writin'letters. "

"Well, you have had bad luck, Simon; but perhaps you'll be morefortunate next time. Mr. Temple tells me you have something to tell meabout the ghost. What is it?"

"You ain't a-seen that 'ere hinfidel willain since he went away from'ere, Mr. Blake, have 'ee?"

"I saw him in Hyde Park one day, but have never spoken to him. "

"Well, I'm in a fog. "

"In a fog! How?"

"Why, I can't understand a bit why that 'ere ghost wur a got up. "

"You think it was got up, then?"

"Certain of it, yer honour. "

"Well, tell us about it. "

"Well, sur, after you left all of a hurry like, we had a big party inthe house, and all the servants 'ad to 'elp; and no sooner did I git inthat 'ere house than I beginned to put two and two together, and then Isee a hindiwidual that I beginned to think wur mighty like that 'ereghost. "

"And who was that?"

"Why, that 'ere hancient wirgin, Miss Staggles. "

"Ah, what then?"

"Well, I heard somebody tellin' her as 'ow you were gone to London, andI thought she looked mighty pleased. After dinner, I see her come out ofthe drawin'-room, and go away by herself, and I thought I'd watch. Shewent up to her room, yer honour, and I got in a convenient place forwatchin' her when she comes out. She weren't a minnit afore she wur out, Mr. Blake, a-carryin' somethin' in her hands. She looks curiously'round, and then I see her make straight for your bedroom door, and goesinto your room. In a minnit more she comes out, with nothin' in herhands. So then I says to myself, 'She's deposited some o' hercombustible matter in Mr. Blake's room. '

"It was a bold and dangerous thing to do, yer honour, but I goes intoyour room and looks around. Everything seems right. Then I looks andsees that the drawer of the wardrobe ain't quite shut, so I takes a stepforward and peeps in. "

"And what did you see?"

"Why, I see the trappin's of that 'ere ghost. The shroud, knife, and allthe rest on't. "

"Well, Simon?"

"Well, sur, I takes it to my shanty, and puts it in my own box, to showyou at 'a convenient season, ' as Moses said. "

"Is that all?"

"Not quite. The next mornin' I see her a-airin' her sweet self on thelawn, so I goes up to 'er all familiar like, and I says, 'Top o' themornin', Miss Staggles. '

"'Who are you, man?' she says. 

"'As nice a chap as you ever see, ' I said, 'though I am marked wi'small-pox. But that ain't my fault, ma'am; it is owin' to theexperimentin' o' a waccinatin' doctor. '

"'What do you want with me, man?' she said. 

"'Why, ma'am, ' I said, 'I'm young and simple, and I wur frightened wi' aghost t'other night, and I thought as how you, bein' purty hancient, might assist me in findin' things out about it. '

"With that, sur, she looked oal strange, and I thinks I'm on the righttrack, and I says again, 'That 'ere ghost wur well got up, mum. I'veplayed a ghost myself in a theatre, and I could never git up like youdid the other night. '

"'Me get up as a ghost!' she screamed. 'Man, you are mad. '

"'Not so mad, ' I says, 'seein' as 'ow I see you carry that 'ere ghost'swardrobe, and put it in Mr. Blake's room last night. '

"She went off without another word, yer honour, and the next thing Iheard 'bout her was that she'd gone to London. "

"And why did you not tell Mr. Temple?"

"Well, Mr. Blake, he didn't know anything 'bout her evenin' rambles wi'that 'ere hinfidel willain, and wasn't acquainted wi' the things thatyou and me hev talked about; besides, I thought as 'ow you wer the onethat ought to know first of all. "

I thought long over Simon's words, but could not understand them. Whyshould Miss Staggles pose as a ghost, even at the instigation ofVoltaire? There could be nothing gained by it, and yet I was sure thatit was not without meaning. Somehow it was connected with Voltaire'sscheme; of that I was sure, but at the time my mind was too confused tosee how. 

So far, not one step had been taken to prove whether Kaffar was dead oralive, and although I knew nothing of a detective's business, I did notlike taking any one into my confidence. I resolved to do all that was tobe done myself. 

In spite of everything, I spent a pleasant evening at Temple Hall. Wetalked and laughed gaily, especially as Tom was preparing for hiswedding with Miss Edith Gray, and when I told Mrs. Temple how Tom hadpopped the question on the landing at midnight, after the appearance ofthe famous hall ghost, the merriment knew no bounds. 

It was after midnight when I retired to rest, but I could not sleep. Icould not help thinking about this great problem of my life. How could Ifind Kaffar? How could I tell whether he were alive or dead? Aftertossing about a long time, I hit upon a plan of action, and then my mindhad some little rest. 

The next morning I bade good-bye to my friends, and started for thestation. When I arrived all was quiet. Not a single passenger was there, while the two porters were lolling lazily around, enjoying the warmth ofthe bright May sun. 

I asked to see the station-master; he was not at the station. Then Imade inquiries for the booking-clerk, who presently made hisappearance. I found that there was a train leaving about midnight, whichtravelled northward, one that had been running some years. 

"Were you at the booking-office on the day after New Year's Day?" Iasked. 

"Yes, sir, " replied the clerk. 

"Do you remember a man coming for a ticket that night who struck you aspeculiar?"

"What kind of a man, sir?"

"A foreigner. Small, dark, and wiry, speaking with an accent somethinglike this, " I said, trying to imitate Kaffar. 

"No, sir, I don't remember such a person. There were only threepassengers that night--I remember it very well, because my brother washere with me--and they were all Yorkshire. "

"This midnight train is a stopping train?"

"Yes, sir. It stops at every station from Leeds. "

"How far is the nearest station in the Leeds direction?"

"Seven miles, sir. The population is rather thin here, sir. It getsthicker the closer you get to Leeds. "

"And how far the other way?"

"Only a matter of three miles northward, sir. There's a little villagethere, sir, has sprung up because of Lord ----'s mansion, sir, and thecompany has put up a station. "

"And how far is the next station beyond that?"

"A long way, sir. It's a junction where some go to catch the nightexpress to Leeds. It must be eight miles further on. The train is nowdue, sir, that goes there. "

"And it stops at the next station?"

"Oh yes, sir. "

I booked immediately for it, and in a few minutes arrived there. It was, if possible, more quiet than the one from which I had just come; a moredreary place one could not well see. 

I soon found the man who had issued tickets on the night I havementioned. Did he remember such a passenger as I described?

"Yes, sir, " he said, "I do remember such a chap; partly because he wasthe only passenger, and partly because he looked so strange. He lookedas if he'd been fightin', and yet he was quite sober. He was a funnychap, sir; one as I shudd'n like much to do wi'. "

"And where did he book for?"

"Dingledale Junction, sir. "

"And he would be able to catch a train from there?"

"He would have to wait a quarter of an hour for the express to Leeds, "replied the man. 

"And how long will it be before there's another train to DingledaleJunction?" I asked anxiously. 

"Three hours and a half, sir. "

This was an awful blow to me. To wait all this time at that roadsidestation was weary work, especially as I could do nothing. I found, however, that I could hire a horse and trap that would take me there inabout two hours. I therefore closed with this offer, and shortly afterdrove away. 

I felt sure I had made one step forward. Kaffar was alive. The bluntYorkshireman's description of him tallied exactly with the realappearance of the Egyptian. Of course I was not sure, but this wasstrongly in favour of his being alive. There was something tangible forwhich to work now, and my heart grew lighter. 

Dingledale Junction proved to be rather a busy place. There were twoplatforms in the station, and a refreshment room. I found also that Mr. Smith was actually represented there, in the shape of a small boy, adozen novels, and a few newspapers. This, however, did not augur so wellfor my inquiries. The officials here would not be so likely to noticeany particular passenger. Still there was something in my favour. Kaffar would in any circumstances attract attention in a country place. His appearance was so remarkable, that any countryman would stop for asecond look at him. 

After a great many inquiries, I found that Kaffar, or a man stronglyresembling him, had been there on the night in question, and had taken aticket for Leeds. He had no luggage, and what made the porter inattendance remember him so vividly was the fact of his being angry whenasked if he had any luggage to be labelled. 

So far, then, my inquiries were successful; so far I might congratulatemyself on making forward steps. And yet I was scarcely satisfied. Itseemed too plain. Would Kaffar have allowed himself to be followed insuch a way? I was not sure. On the one hand, he was very cunning, and, on the other, he knew but little of the means of detecting people inEngland. 

I took the next train for Leeds, and there my success ended. I couldfind traces of him nowhere. This was scarcely to be wondered at. Leedsis a great commercial centre, where men of every nationality meet, andof course Kaffar would be allowed to pass unnoticed. Then I began tothink what the Egyptian would be likely to do, and after weighing thewhole matter in my mind I came to this conclusion: either he was inLondon with Voltaire, or he had gone back to Egypt. The first was notlikely. If Kaffar were seen in London, Voltaire's plans would be upset, and I did not think my enemy would allow that. Of course he might havemeans of keeping him there in strict secrecy, or he might have a scoreof disguises to keep him from detection. Still I thought the balancewould be heaviest on the side of his returning to Egypt. I naturallythought he would return to his native land, because I had heard him sayhe talked none of the European languages besides English and asmattering of Turkish. 

My next step, therefore, was to return to London, and then go to Dover, Calais, Newhaven, and Dieppe, to try to see whether Kaffar could betraced. At the same time, I determined to have a watch set uponVoltaire, and his every step dogged, so that, if he held anycommunication with Kaffar, necessary steps might be taken to prove toMiss Forrest my innocence, and thus she might at once be freed from thedesigns of the man she hated. 

No sooner did I arrive in London, however, and took possession of myeasy-chair than I knew Voltaire wanted me to go to him, and I knew, too, that a month before I should have had to yield to the power hepossessed. I need not say that I did not go. My will was now strongerthan his, and by exercising that will I was able to resist him. Still, none but those who have been under such a spell can imagine what astruggle I had even then. God only gives us power to use, and He willnot do for us what we can do for ourselves. For two long hours I feltthis strange influence, and then it ceased. Evidently he had failed inhis design, and, for the time, at all events, had abandoned it. 

Next morning, when I was preparing to visit Scotland Yard, a servantcame into my room bearing a card on a tray. I took it and read, "HerodVoltaire. "

"Show him up, " I said to the servant. 

CHAPTER XVI

STRUGGLING FOR VICTORY

I confess that I was somewhat excited as I heard him coming up thestairs. I was sure that every means he could devise to defeat me wouldbe eagerly used. The man was a villain possessed of a strange anddangerous power, and that power he would not hesitate to exert in everypossible way. But I was not afraid; my faith in God had given me life, and so I would dare to defy the wretch. 

I did not look at him until the girl had shown him in and left the room;then our eyes met. 

I recognized the steely glitter of those whity-grey orbs, which at timesseemed tinted with green. I knew he was seeking to exert his oldinfluence, and once I thought I should have to yield. The power hepossessed was something terrible, and I had to struggle to the utmost toremain unconquered. His efforts were in vain, however, and, for thetime, at all events, the battle was not with him. 

"Will you sit down, Mr. Voltaire?" I said, after a minute's perfectsilence. 

He sat down as if in astonishment. 

"Might I ask your business?" I asked as coolly as I could. 

This question either aroused his anger, or he began to play a part. "Yes, " he said; "you will know my business at your cost. I thought youhad found out before this that I was not the man either to be disobeyedor trifled with. "

I did not think it wise to speak. 

"I have come to tell you, " he went on, "that you cannot escape my power, that you cannot disobey me and not suffer. Remember this: I conqueredyou, and you are my slave. "

Still I did not think it wise to reply. 

"You think, " he continued, "because you have realized some immunity fromthe power I wield, that I have left you. I have not, and it is greaterthan ever. You have dared to leave London; you have dared to do thatwhich I told you not; and now I have come to tell you that you havearoused the anger of a man who laughs at conventional laws, and snapshis fingers at the ordinary usages of society--one who knows nothingand cares nothing for your claptrap morality, and will not be influencedby it. "

"I am sorry if I have angered you, " I replied humbly. 

"Just so, and you will be more than sorry. Man, I hold your life in thehollow of my hand. One word from me, and your liberty is gone; you willbe dragged through the streets like a common felon. "

"Am I guilty of so much, then?" I said. "Did I really kill that man?"

He looked at me curiously, as if he suspected something. "Kill him?" hereplied. "Of course you did. But even if you did not, it is all thesame. Kaffar cannot be found, or proved alive, and thus my power overyou is absolute. "

"I wonder you do not use it, " I said quietly. 

"I do not use it because it does not pay me to do so. My policy is to bequiet. Miss Forrest is mine because she knows I am master of your life. The months are swiftly passing away, Mr. Justin Blake. It is May now; inDecember I shall take her to my breast. "

"But supposing, " I said, "that I find Kaffar; supposing before ChristmasEve comes I prove I am innocent of his death. What then?"

"It is not to be supposed. You killed my friend; and even if you didnot, you could never find him. You dare not, could not, take anynecessary steps. You have not the power to ask other people to do it. Even now you cannot rise from your seat and walk across the room. "

Without a word I rose from my seat and walked across the room; then Icame back and coolly sat down again. 

"What does this mean?" he asked angrily. 

"It means, " I said, "that you are deceived--mistaken. It means that yourvillainous schemes are of no effect; that the man whom you thought youhad entrapped by a juggler's trick to be your tool and dupe is as freeas you are; that he defies your power; that he tells you to do yourworst. "

I felt that again he was trying to throw me into a kind of trance, thathe was exerting all his power and knowledge; but I resisted, and I wasfree. I stood up again and smiled. 

Then a strange light lit up his eyes. 

"Curse you!" he cried, "you defy me, eh? Well, you'll see what you getby defying me. In five minutes you will be safe in a policeman'scharge. "

"If I were you I would try and learn the Englishman's laws before youappeal to them. The first question that will be asked will be why youhave refrained from telling so long, for he who shelters a criminal bysilence is regarded as an aider and an abettor of that criminal. Then, man, this case will be sifted to the bottom. That pond will be pumpeddry, and every outlet examined. Besides, what about the booking-clerkthat issued a ticket to Kaffar two hours after you and Mr. Temple foundme?"

"It's a lie!" he cried; "Kaffar was never seen. "

"Well, then, if you are so sure, give me in charge. It will not be verymuch opposed to my wishes, for by so doing you will set the wholemachinery of the law of England on Kaffar's trail, and I promise you itwill find him. English law is hard on murderers, but all evidence is putthrough a very fine sieve in an English court of justice. Kaffar is notan ordinary-looking man, and from Scotland Yard our police authoritieshold communication with all other police authorities in the civilizedworld. I tell you, man, your trumped-up story would be torn to pieces infive minutes, and in the end you would be safely lodged down at Dartmoorfor fourteen years. "

He sat silent a minute, as if in deep thought; then he said slowly, "Mr. Justin Blake, you think you have outwitted Herod Voltaire! Continue tothink so. I shall not give you in charge--not because I believe inyour paltry story, but because I should lose Miss Forrest by so doing, and I cannot afford to do that, if for nothing else than to spite you. You think you are free from me. Wait. You think Kaffar is to befound--well, wait. But, I tell you, you shall repent all this. I willmarry the woman you love, and then I will lead you such a life as younever conceived. You shall pray to die, and death shall not come. Youshall suffer as never man suffered. The condition of the Christians whomNero used as torches shall be heaven to what yours shall be. Meanwhile--"

All this time he kept looking at me, and his words were uttered with anervous force and intensity that was terrible. I felt a strange chillingsensation creep over me, and involuntarily I sat down. No sooner had Idone so than he gave a savage, exultant yell. 

"You are mine again!" he cried. 

It was a terrible struggle. His will and mine fought for themastery--his strengthened by a knowledge of laws of which I wasignorant, and constant exertion of it; mine, by a new life which I hadbut lately begun to live, by a strength given me through communion withmy Maker. 

For a minute I was chained to the seat. My senses were numbed, and, allthe while his terrible glittering eyes rested on mine. Then my strengthbegan to return, and I again stood up, and in a few seconds I was masterof myself. 

"Coward, " I said, "you sought to take me unawares. You have done yourutmost, and I am your master, even now. Now go, and bear this in mind, that the right and the truth shall be triumphant. "

I rung the bell as I spoke, and the servant appeared. "Show thisgentleman out, Mary, " I said. 

Never shall I forget the look of hatred that gleamed from his eyes as heleft the room. If ever a man looked possessed of an evil spirit, it washe; but he did not speak. He walked down the stairs without a word, andthen out into the street. 

I stood and watched him until he was out of sight, and then tried tocollect my scattered thoughts. On the whole, I was not pleased with theinterview. I had shown my hand. It would have been far better if I couldhave allowed him still to think I was in his power, but the temptationto show him my freedom was too strong. It would now be a trial of skillbetween us. If he could have believed that I was unable to do anythingto free myself, I should have, perhaps, caught him unawares. Now hewould be prepared for everything I could do; he would check my everymove. If Kaffar were alive, he would have a thousand means of keepinghim out of my way; if dead--well, then, I did not care much whathappened. If the latter, however, I determined to give up my life forMiss Forrest, to put myself in the hands of the police authorities, andtell of the influence Voltaire had exerted over me. 

Meanwhile I must act, and that quickly; so I went straight to a privatedetective, a man I slightly knew. I refrained from going to ScotlandYard, as I thought Voltaire would be watching me. I gave this detectivea description of Voltaire, told him his address, which I had ascertainedthrough his letters to Temple Hall, and explained my wishes to him. Hetook up my points very quickly, saw what I wanted without any lengthenedexplanations, and expressed a willingness to serve me. So much pleasedwas I with this interview, that I had no fear that my enemy would not bewell looked after. 

After that I took train for Dover, and prepared to track Kaffar, ifpossible, wherever he had gone, not realizing at the time the task I hadproposed for myself. 

I thought I made a forward step at Dover, for, on inquiring at an hotelthere, I found that a man answering to Kaffar's description had engageda bedroom for one night, and had gone on to Calais by the midday boat, in time to catch the express for Paris. 

"Did this gentleman have any luggage?" I asked. 

The hotel proprietor did not think the gentleman carried any luggage, but he would inquire. 

On inquiry of the hotel porter, I found that he carried a Gladstone bag, rather small and new. This was particularly remembered--first, becausethe foreign gentleman seemed very particular about it, and, second, because there seemed to be nothing in it. 

So far so good. 

I determined to go on to Paris; it could do no harm, it might do good. Icould speak the French language fairly, and might, by some means, findout the steps he had taken. 

Arrived at Paris, I was completely blocked. He was not remembered in theCustom House; he was not remembered at some twenty hotels at which Icalled. 

Again I began to think what he was likely to do. I did not think hewould possess very much money, and a man of his temperament would devisesome means of getting some. How? Work would be a slow process, and notsuited to his nature. Kaffar would get money by gambling. But that didnot help me forward. To search out all the gambling-houses in Pariswould be a hopeless task; besides, would he gamble in Paris, a city ofwhich he knew nothing? I did not think so. Where, then?

Monte Carlo!

No doubt the reader will smile at my attempts as a private detective, but, realizing the circumstances by which I was surrounded, there may besome excuse for my unbusinesslike way of going to work. Besides, I wasnot sure that Kaffar was alive; I only had some vague grounds forthinking he was. 

I went to Monte Carlo. I inquired at the hotels; I inquired at theCasino--without success. I learnt one great lesson there, however, andthat was the evil of gambling. In spite of tinsel and gilt, in spite ofgay attire and loud laughter, in spite of high-sounding titles andancient names, never did I see so much real misery as I saw in thefar-renowned gaming palace. 

For days I tried to think what to do, without avail. Kaffar had not beenat the Casino; he had not stayed at any of the hotels. Where was he, then?

I began to entertain the idea that he had gone to Egypt as he had said. I would do my best to find out. Accordingly, I went to all the seaportsalong the coast of France and Italy from which he would be likely to setsail for Egypt. I was unsuccessful until I came to Brindisi. 

Here I found that inquiries could easily be made. There were only twohotels in the place, one of which was very small. At the smaller of thetwo, I found on inquiry that a man answering to my description hadstayed there a day and a night, waiting for the boat for Alexandria. Thehotel proprietor said he should not have remembered him, but that he hadtalked Arabic with him. This traveller had also told him he had comefrom England, the land of luxury and gold, and was going to Cairo. 

He did not remember his name. Egyptians often came to Brindisi, and tohim one name was pretty much like another. He called them all "Howajja, "and remembered nothing more. He did not keep an hotel register. 

Little and poor as this evidence was, I determined to go to Egypt. Itwas now June, and terribly hot, even at Brindisi; I knew the heat mustbe worse in Cairo, but that was nothing. If I could find this man, Ishould be rewarded a thousandfold. 

Accordingly the next night, when an Austrian Lloyd steamer stopped atthis little old-fashioned seaport on its way to Alexandria, I secured aberth and went on board. The voyage was not long, neither was it verytedious; at night, especially, it was glorious. To sit on deck and gazeat the smooth sea, which reflected in its deep waters the bright starryheavens, while the splash of the waters made music on the vessel's side, was to experience something not easily forgotten. 

Arrived in Alexandria, I again set inquiries on foot, but with far lesschance of success. Kaffar was not a marked man here. In this town, wherealmost every nationality was to be seen, no notice would be taken ofhim. A thousand men answering to Kaffar's description might be seenevery day. Still I did all I could, and then hurried on to Cairo. 

I have not tried to give any detailed account of my journeys, nor of thealternate feelings of hope and despair that possessed me. This must beleft to the imagination of my readers. Let them remember thecircumstances of the story as I have related them, let them think of howmuch depended on my discovery of Kaffar, let them also try to fancysomething of my feelings, and then they will be able to guess at myweary nights and anxious days, they will know how feverishly I hurriedfrom port to port and from town to town. Anyhow, I will not try todescribe them, for I should miserably fail. 

Cairo was comparatively empty. The heat had driven the tourists away tocolder climes. The waiters in the hotels lolled around, with little ornothing to do. Only a few guests required their attendance. Everythingwas very quiet. The burning sun fairly scorched the leaves of the acaciatrees, which grew everywhere. The Nile was exceedingly low, and waterwas comparatively scarce. The older part of Cairo was simply unbearable;the little Koptic community dwelling in the low huts, which reeked withdirt and vermin, would, one would have thought, have been glad to havedied. 

I had no success in Cairo. A dozen times I was buoyed up with hopes, adozen times my hopes were destroyed, leaving me more despairing thanever. In spite of the terrible heat, all that could be done I did. Recommended by an hotel proprietor, I engaged two of the shrewdest menin this wonderful city to try and find Kaffar, but they could discoverno trace of him. I went to mosques, to temples, to bazaars--in vain. Ifhe were in Cairo, he was hiding. 

Oh, the weary work, the dreadful uncertainty! Hoping, despairing, evertoiling, ever searching, yet never achieving! The months were slippingby. It was now August, and I was no nearer finding him than when Istarted. Must I give up, then? Should I renounce my life's love? ShouldI yield my darling to Voltaire? Never!

I formed a new resolution. I would go back to England. Doubtless I hadgone clumsily to work, and thus my failure would be explained. When onceback in London, I would engage the cleverest detectives the city couldboast of, and I would state the whole case to them. Perchance they coulddo what I had failed to accomplish. This determination I at once carriedinto practice, and in a little more than a week I again saw the whitecliffs of Dover. I did not rest. Arriving at Victoria, I drove straightto Scotland Yard, and in an hour later two of the most highlyrecommended officers of the London detective police force were inpossession of all the facts that I could give them that would lead tothe discovery of the Egyptian, providing he lived. 

Then I drove back to my rooms in Gower Street, weary and sad, yet nothopeless. There were four months in which to act. Two clever men were atwork, while, thank God, I was free to act and to think. 

Yet the future looked terribly doubtful. Would the inquiries besuccessful? would Gertrude be freed from Voltaire? and should I behappy?

CHAPTER XVII

USING THE ENEMY'S WEAPONS

Two months passed, and no tidings of Kaffar--at least, none that wereworthy of consideration. The detectives had done all that men could do;they had made every inquiry possible, they had set on foot dozens ofschemes; but all in vain. Voltaire, who had been closely watched, wasapparently living a quiet, harmless life, and was not, so far as couldbe seen, in communication with him. I had done all that I could domyself. I had followed in England every possible clue, all of which hadended in failure. 

Three months passed. Still no reliable news. One detective fancied hehad detected him in Constantinople; another was equally certain he had, at the same time, seen him in Berlin. I became almost mad with despair. The first of December had come, and I was not a step nearer finding theman whose presence would free me from Voltaire's villainous charge. 

That which troubled me most was the fact that I did not know whether hewere alive. Even if I did not kill him, perhaps Voltaire had got him outof the way so that he might fasten the guilt on me. "What, after all, "was the thought that maddened me, "if he should be lying at the bottomof Drearwater Pond?"

There were only twenty-four days now. Three weeks and three days, and Iknew not what to do. If I failed, my love would marry the man who wasworse than a fiend, while I, for whom she was to suffer this torture, was unable to help her. 

And yet I had tried, God alone knows how; but only to fail. Still, therewere twenty-four days; but what were they? Kaffar, if he were alive, might be in Africa, Australia--no one knew where. I saw no hope. 

A week more slipped by. There were only seventeen days left now. I wassitting in my room, anxiously waiting for the Continental mail, and anytelegrams which might arrive. I heard the postman's knock, and in aminute more letters were brought in. Eagerly I opened those which camefrom the detectives, and feverishly read them. "Still in the dark;nothing discovered"--that summed up the long reports they sent me. Iread the other letters; there was nothing in them to help me. 

Still another week went by. Only ten days were wanting to Christmas Eve, and I knew no more of Kaffar's whereabouts than I did on the day when Idefied Voltaire and started on my search. Again reports from thedetectives came, and still no news. No doubt, by this, Voltaire wasgloating over his victory, while I was nearly mad with despair. 

Only ten days! I must do something. It was my duty, at all hazards, tofree Gertrude Forrest from Voltaire. That was plain. I could not findthe Egyptian, and thus it was probable I had killed him as had beensaid. What must I do? This, and this only. I must go to Scotland Yard, and relate to the authorities my whole story. I must tell them ofVoltaire's influence over me, and that it was probable I had, while heldunder a mesmerist's spell, killed the man I had been trying to find. This was all. It _might_ bring this villain under suspicion, and, if so, it would hinder him from exacting the fulfilment of Gertrude Forrest'spromise. 

It was at best but an uncertain venture, but it was all I could do. Iowed it to the woman I loved. It was my duty to make this sacrifice. Iwould do it. 

I wasted no time; I put on my overcoat and walked to Scotland Yard. 

I put my hand upon the door of the room which I knew belonged to one ofthe officials, to whom I determined to report my case. 

I thought of the words I should say, when--

"STOP!"

I am sure I heard that word, clear and distinct. Where it came from Iknew not; but it was plain to me. 

An idea flashed into my mind!

Mad, mad, I must have been, never to have thought of it before. 

Ten days! Only ten days! But much might be done even yet. I rushed away, and got into St. James's Park, and there, in comparative quietness, Ibegan to think. 

The clouds began to dispel, the difficulties began to move away. SurelyI had hit upon a plan at last, a plan on which I should have thought atthe outset. 

I walked on towards Westminster Abbey, still working out my newlyconceived idea, and when there jumped into a cab. 

Yes, I remembered the address, for I had seen it only the day before, soI told the cabman to drive to ---- Street, Chelsea. 

I was right. There on the door was the name of the man I had hoped tofind--Professor Von Virchow. I paid the cabman, and knocked at the doorwith a beating heart. 

A sallow-faced girl opened the door, and asked my business. 

Was Professor Virchow at home?

Yes, he was at home, but would be engaged for the next quarter of anhour; after that, he could see me on business connected with hisprofession. 

I was accordingly ushered into a musty room, which sadly wanted lightand air. The quarter of an hour dragged slowly away, when thesallow-faced girl again appeared, saying that Professor Von Virchowwould be pleased to see me. 

I followed her into an apartment that was fitted up like a doctor'sconsulting-room. Here I found the man I had come to see. 

He was a little man, about five feet four inches high. He had, however, a big head, a prominent forehead, and keen grey eyes. He woregold-rimmed spectacles, and was evidently well fed and on good termswith himself. 

"You are a professor of mesmerism and clairvoyance, I believe?" I began. 

"That is my profession, " said the little man, "Then I am in hopes thatyou may be able to help me in my difficulty. "

"I shall be pleased to help you, " he said, still stiffly. 

"Can you, " I went on, "tell the whereabouts of a man whom I may describeto you?"

"That is very vague, " was the reply. "Your description may be incorrect, or a hundred men might answer to it. I would promise nothing under suchconditions. "

"Perhaps I had better tell my story, " I said. 

"I think you had, " said the little professor, quietly. 

"On the 2nd of January of the present year, " I said, "a man disappearedin the night from a place in Yorkshire. He is an Egyptian, and easilydistinguished. A great deal depends on finding him at once. Ever sinceMay, endeavours have been made to track him, but without success. "

"Perhaps he is dead, " said the professor. 

"Perhaps so; but even then it is important to know. Can you help me tofind out his whereabouts?"

"Undoubtedly I can; but I must have a good photograph of him. Have youone?"

"I have not. "

"Could you obtain one?"

"I think not. "

"But this man has been seen by many people. Could not some one youknow, and who knows him, sketch a faithful likeness from memory?"

"I do not know of any one. "

"Then I could not guarantee to find him. You see, I cannot workmiracles. I can only work through certain laws which I have beenfortunate enough either to recognize or discover; but there must ever besome data upon which to go, and, you see, you give me none that is inthe least satisfactory. "

"Perhaps you can, " I said, "if I relate to you all the circumstancesconnected with what is, I think, a somewhat remarkable story. "

I had determined to tell this little man every circumstance which mightlead to Kaffar's discovery, especially those which happened inYorkshire. It seemed my only resource, and I felt, that somehowsomething would come of it. 

I therefore briefly related what I have written in this story. 

"That man who mesmerized you is very clever, " said the professorquietly, when I had finished. "It was very unfortunate for you that youshould have matched yourself with such a one. His plot was well workedout in every respect. He only made a mistake in one thing. "

"And that?"

"He thought it impossible that you should ever be freed from his powerwithout his consent. Still it was a well-planned affair. The story, theghost, the quarrel--it was all well done. "

"I fail to see what part the ghost had in the matter, " I said. 

The professor smiled. "No?" he said. "Well, I should not think it was avital part of his plan, but it was helpful. He calculated upon the younglady's superstitious fancies. He knew what the particular form in whichthe ghost appeared portended, and it fitted in with his scheme ofmurder. Evidently he wanted the young lady to believe in your guilt, andthus give him greater chance of success. Ah, he is a clever man. "

"But, " I asked anxiously, "can you tell me Kaffar's whereabouts now?"

"No, I cannot--that is, not to-day. "

"When, then?"

"I may not be able to do so at all. It all depends on one man. "

"Who is he?"

"Simon Slowden, I think you called him. "

"Simon Slowden! How can he help us?"

"Evidently he is susceptible to mesmeric influences, and he knows theman you wish to find. But the difficulty lies here. Is he sufficientlysusceptible?"

"Is that the only hope?"

"All I can see at present. I was going to suggest that you be throwninto a mesmeric sleep; but you could not be depended on. The experienceswhich you have had would make you very uncertain. "

"Then your advice is--"

"Send for this man at once. If he fails--well, I have anotheralternative. "

"May I know what?"

"No, not now. "

"Answer me this. Do you think I killed Kaffar, the Egyptian?"

"No, I do not; but your enemy intended you should. "

"Why did I not, then?"

"Because the Egyptian also possessed a mesmerist's power, and hinderedyou. At any rate, such is my opinion. I am not sure;" and the little manlooked very wise. 

"Expect us early to-morrow morning, " I said, and then went away to thenearest telegraph office, with a lighter heart than I had known for manylong months. The little professor had given me some hope. The matter wasstill enshrouded in mystery, but still I thought I had found a possiblesolution. 

"_Send Simon Slowden to me at once_" I telegraphed. "_Extremelyimportant. Wire back immediately the time I may expect him_. "

Anxiously I waited for an answer. Although the message was flashed withlightning speed, it seemed a long time in coming. At length it came, andI read as follows:

"_Slowden will come by train leaving Leeds 11. 38. Meet him at St. Pancras_. "

I immediately caught a cab and drove to Gower Street, and, on looking atmy time-table, I found that the train mentioned in the telegram arrivedin London at 5. 15. This would do splendidly. I could get Simon to myroom and give him some breakfast, and then, after a little rest, drivedirect to the professor's. 

I need not say I was early at St. Pancras the following morning. I hadscarcely slept through the night, and anxiously awaited the appearanceof the train. It swept into the station in good time, and, to my greatrelief and delight, I saw Simon appear on the platform, looking asstolid and imperturbable as ever. 

We were not long in reaching Gower Street, where Simon enjoyed a goodbreakfast, after which we drew up our chairs before the cheerful fireand began to talk. 

"Did you have a good journey, Simon?" I asked. 

"Slept like the seven sleepers of the patriarch, sur, all the way fromLeeds. "

"And you don't feel tired now?"

"Not a bit, yer honour. "

"Then, " I said, "I want to explain to you a few things that must haveappeared strange. "

Accordingly I told him of Voltaire's influence over me, and what cameout of it. 

"Why, sur, " said Simon, when I had finished, "that 'ere willain must bewuss nor a hinfidel; he must be the Old Nick in the garret. And do youmean to say, sur, that that 'ere beautiful Miss Forrest, who I've putdown for you, is goin' to git married to that 'ere somnamblifyin'waccinatin' willain, if his dutiful mate ain't a found before ChristmasEve?"

"Only nine days, Simon. "

"But it mustn't be, yer honour. "

"So I say, Simon; and that's why I've sent for you. "

"But I can't do nothink much, sur. All my wits hev bin waccinated away, and my blood is puddled like, which hev affected the workin' o' mybrains; and, you see, all your detective chaps have failed. "

"But I shan't fail, if you'll help me. "

"Help you, Mr. Blake? You know I will!"

"Simon, you offered to be my friend, now nearly a year ago. "

"Ay, and this 'ere is a lad as'll stick to his offer, sur, and mightyproud to do so. "

"Well, then, I'm in hopes we shall succeed. "

"How, yer honour?"

"By fighting Voltaire with his own weapons. "

"What, waccinatin'?"

"By mesmerism and clairvoyance, Simon. "

"And who's the chap as hev got to be waccinated--or mesmerized, as youcall it?"

"You, if you will, Simon. "

"Me, sir?" said Simon, aghast. 

"If you will. "

"Well, I said after that 'ere willain experimented on me in Yorkshire, Inever would again; but if it's for you, sur--why, here goes; I'm purtytough. But how's it to be done?"

Then I told him of my interview with the professor, and how he had toldme that only he--Simon--could give the necessary help. 

"Let's off at once, yer honour, " cried Simon. "I'm willin' for anythingif you can git the hupper 'and of that 'ere willain and his other self. Nine days, sur--only nine days! Let's git to the waccinator. I'd ratherhave small-pox a dozen times than you should be knocked overboard bysich as he. "

I was nothing loth, and so, although it was still early, we were soonin a cab on our way to the professor's. On arriving, we were immediatelyshown in, and the little man soon made his appearance. 

"Ah! you've brought him?" said he. "I'm glad to see you so prompt. Wouldyou mind taking this chair, my friend?"--to Simon. "That's it, thankyou. You've been travelling all night and are a little tired, I expect. No? Well, it's well to be strong and able to bear fatigue. There, lookat me. Ah, that's it!"

With that he put his fingers on Simon's forehead, and my humble friendwas unconscious of what was going on around him. 

"He's very susceptible; but I am afraid he has not been under thisinfluence a sufficient number of times for his vision to be clear. Still, we'll try. --Simon!"

"That's me, " said Simon, sleepily. 

"Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?"

He looked around as if in doubt. His eyes had a vacant look about them, and yet there seemed a certain amount of intelligence displayed--at anyrate, it seemed so to me. 

"I see lots of people, all dim like, " said Simon, slowly; "but I can'ttell no faces. They all seem to be covered wi' a kind o' mist. "

"Look again, " said the professor. "You can see more clearly now. "

Simon peered again and again, and then said, "Yes, I can see him; but helooks all strange. He's a-shaved off his whiskers, and hev got a sort o'red cap, like a baisin, on his head. "

My heart gave a great bound. Kaffar was not dead. Thank God for that!

"Where is he?"

"I am tryin' to see, but I can't. Everything is misty. There's a blackfog a-comin' up. "

"Wait a few minutes, " said the professor, "and then we'll try himagain. "

Presently he spoke again. "Now, " he said, "what do you see?"

But Simon did not reply. He appeared in a deep sleep. 

"I thought as much, " said the little man. "His nature has not beensufficiently prepared for such work. I suppose you had breakfast beforeyou came here?"

I assured him that Simon had breakfasted on kidneys and bacon; afterwhich he had made considerable inroads into a cold chicken, withperchance half a pound of cold ham to keep it company. Besides which, hehad taken three large breakfast cups of chocolate. 

"Ah, that explains somewhat. Still, I think we have done a fairmorning's work. We've seen that our man is alive. "

"But do you think there is any hope of finding him?"

"I'm sure there is, only be patient. "

"But what must I do?"

"Well, take this man to see some of the sights of London until threeo'clock, then come home to dinner. After dinner he'll be sleepy. Let himsleep, if he will, until nine o'clock; then bring him here again; butlet him have no supper until after I have done with him. "

"Nine o'clock to-night! Why, do you know, that takes away another day?There will only want eight clear days to Christmas Eve. "

"I can't help that, sir, " said the little professor, testily; "youshould have come before. But that is the way. Our science, which isreally the queen of sciences, is disregarded; only one here and therecomes to us, and then we are treated as no other scientific man would betreated. Never mind, our day will come. One day all the sciences shallbow the knee to us, for we are the real interpreters of the mysteries ofnature. "

I apologized for my impatience, which he gravely accepted, and then wokeSimon from his sleep. 

"Where am I?" cried Simon. "Where've I been?"

"I can't tell, " said the professor; "I wish I could, for then our workwould be accomplished. "

"Have you bin a-waccinatin' me?" said Simon. 

The little man looked to me for explanation. 

"He calls everything mysterious by that name, " I said. 

"'Cause, " continued Simon, "I thought as how you waccinators, ormesmerists, made passes, as they call 'em, and waved your hands about, and like that. "

"Did that Mr. Voltaire, I think you call him, make passes?" asked theprofessor. 

"He!" said Simon. "He ain't no ordinary man. He's got dealin's with oldNick, he hev. He didn't come near me, nor touch me, and I wur sleepin'afore I could think of my grandmother. "

"Just so; he is no ordinary man. He's a real student of psychology, heis. He has gone beyond the elements of our profession. I despise thefoolish things which these quacks of mesmerism make Billy people do inorder to please a gaping-mouthed audience. It is true I call myself aprofessor of mesmerism and clairvoyance, but it would be more correct tocall me a practical psychologist. You'll attend to my wishes withregard to our friend, won't you? Good-morning. "

I will not try to describe how I passed the day. It would be wearisometo the reader to tell him how often I looked at my watch and thought ofthe precious hours that were flying; neither will I speak of my hopesand fears with regard to this idea of finding Kaffar's whereabouts bymeans of clairvoyance. Suffice it to say I was in a state of feverishanxiety when we drove up to the professor's door that night, abouthalf-past nine. 

We did not wait a minute before operations were commenced. Simon wasagain in a mesmeric sleep, or whatever the reader may be pleased to callit, in a few seconds after he had sat down. 

Von Virchow began by asking the same question he had asked in themorning: "Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?"

I waited in breathless silence for the answer. Simon heaved a deep sigh, and peered wearily around, while the professor kept his eye steadilyupon him. 

"Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?" repeated he. 

"Yes, I see him, " said Simon at length. 

"Where?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out, " said Simon. "The place isstrange; the people talk in a strange tongue. I can't make 'em out. "

"What do you see now?" said the professor, touching his forehead. 

"Oh, ah, I see now, " said Simon. "It's a railway station, and I see that'ere willain there, jest as cunnin' as ever. He's a gettin' in thetrain, he is. "

"Can you see the name of the station?"

"No, I can't. It's a biggish place it is, and I can't see no name. Staya minute, though. I see now. "

"Well, what's the name?"

"It's a name as I never see or heard tell on before. B-O-L-O--ah, that'sit; BOLOGNA, that's it. It is a queer name though, ain't it?"

"Well, what now?"

"Why, he's in the train, and it's started, it is. "

"Do you know where he's going?"

"No. "

"But he has a ticket; can't you see it?"

"Course I can't. It's in his pocket, and I can't see through the cloth, I can't. "

"And what's he doing now?"

"Why, he's in for makin' hisself comfortable, he is. He's got a piller, and he's stretchin' hisself on the seat and layin' his head on thepiller. There, he's closed his eyes--he's off to sleep. "

The professor turned to me. "I am afraid we can do no more to-night, " hesaid. "Evidently he is on a journey, and we must wait until he arrivesat his destination. "

"But can't Slowden remain as he is and watch him?"

"The thing would be at once cruel and preposterous, sir. No, you mustcome again in the morning; then, perchance, he will have finished hisjourney;" and accordingly he proceeded to awake Simon. 

After all, it did not matter so much. It was now ten o'clock, and Icould do nothing that night, in any case. 

"I do not know but that I am glad that things are as they are, "continued the professor. "This second sleep will enable him to see moreclearly to-morrow. Meanwhile, consider yourself fortunate. If theEgyptian stops anywhere in Italy, it will be possible for you to reachhim and bring him back within the time you mention. Take heart, myfriend. Good-bye for the time. I shall expect you early to-morrow. "

No sooner were we in the street than Simon began to ask me what he hadtold me, for I found that he was entirely ignorant of the things he hadsaid. 

"Who'd 'a thought it?" he said musingly, when I had told him. "Who'd 'athought as 'ow I should hassist in a waccinatin' business like this'ere! Tell 'ee, yer 'onour, I shall believe in ghosts and sperrits againsoon. Fancy me a-seein' things in Italy and tellin' 'em to you withoutknowin' anything about it! Well, but 'twill be grand if we can find 'im, yer honour, won't it then?"

I spent a sleepless night, harassed by a thousand doubts and fears. There, in the quiet of my room, all this mesmerism and clairvoyanceseemed only so much hocus-pocus, which no sensible and well-educated manshould have anything to do with. Still, it was my only hope, and it onlywanted eight days to Christmas Eve. Only one little week and a day, thatwas all, and then, if I did not produce Kaffar, all was lost. It wouldbe no use to go to Miss Forrest's house in Kensington and tell her thatSimon Slowden had, while in a mesmeric sleep, seen Kaffar in Italy. No, no; that would never do. I must produce him, nothing else would suffice. 

We were early at the professor's the following morning, and found himwaiting and almost as anxious as we were. Again Simon submitted to theinfluence of the little man, and soon answered his questions far morereadily than he had hitherto done. 

Did he see Kaffar?

"Yes, " was the reply. 

"Where is he now?"

He was in a beautiful town. The houses were white, the streets werewhite; the town was full of squares, and in these squares were manystatues. Such was Simon's information. 

"Do you know what country the town is in?"

"No, " said Simon, shaking his head. 

"Could you not by any means find out? There's a railway station in thetown; can you not see the name there?"

"Yes, there's a railway station, a fine one. Ah, I see the name now. T-O-R-I-N-O. TORINO, that's it. "

"Torino!" I cried, "Turin! That's a town in Italy, some distance beyondthe French border. "

The professor beckoned me to be quiet. 

"Kaffar is at Torino, is he?" said the professor. 

"That's it--yes. "

"What is he doing?"

"Talkin' with a man who keeps an hotel. "

"What does he say?"

"It's in a foreign language, and I can't tell. "

"Can you repeat what he said?"

"It sounded like this--'_Je restey ici pour kelka jour_;' but I can'tmake out what it means. "

The professor turned to me. 

"He's speaking French. I did not know Kaffar knew French; perhaps he'slearned it lately. The words mean that he will stay there for somedays. "

"Can you describe the street in which this hotel is?" continued VonVirchow. 

Simon began to describe, but we could make nothing of it. 

"We can't understand, " replied the professor. "Can you draw a sketch ofthe road to it from the railway station?" and he put a piece of paperand pencil in Simon's hand. 

Without hesitating, Simon drew a sketch, a facsimile of which is givenon the opposite page. 

I had been to Turin, and remembered some of the places the sketchindicated. It might be far from perfect, but it was sufficient for me. It would be child's play to find Kaffar there. 

"That will do, " I said to the professor. "I'll start at once. Thank youso much. "

"Ah, that will do, will it?" he said, with a smile. "Then I'll wake upthis man. "

Simon woke up as usual, rubbing his eyes, and asked whether any good hadbeen done. 

"Everything's been done, " cried I. "Come, professor, allow me to writeyou a cheque. How much shall it be?"

"Not a penny until your work is accomplished, " replied the little man, with dignity. 

"That is not fair, " I said. "I don't know what may happen, and you mustnot be defrauded. Anyhow, here's something on account;" and I put atwenty-pound note in his hand. 

He smiled as he looked at it, while I took my hat, and stated myintention to start for Turin at once. 

"Beggin' yer pardon, " said Simon, "but this 'ere waccination businessis awfully wearyin', and I should like to--that is--"

"The very thing, " I replied, anticipating his request. "You shall gowith me. "

Half-an-hour later, we were at Gower Street, making preparations for ourjourney to Turin--Simon calm and collected, I feverish and excited. 

CHAPTER XVIII

NEARING THE END

There were, as I said, eight days in which to find Kaffar and bring himto London, counting the day on which we started our journey. It wasWednesday; by the following Wednesday, at midnight, I must prove toGertrude that Voltaire was a villain and a liar. It should be doneeasily. It was but little more than a thirty hours' ride to Turin--thatis, providing everything went smoothly. To put it at the outside, it wasonly a forty-eight hours' journey, allowing time for a sleep on the way. Thus four days would suffice for travelling, and I should have more thanthree days in which to find Kaffar. It was true Turin was a large town, but in three days I was sure I could find him. In that time I thought Icould hunt every lodging-house and hotel in the city. 

I shall say little of the journey. Mostly it was cold and wearisomeenough. From Dover to Paris it was fairly comfortable, but from Paris tothe Italian border we were travelling through a snowstorm, and thus, when we came to this our last stopping-place before going through thefamous Mont Cenis Tunnel, we were four hours late. It was terribly coldthere. Everything was ice-bound. Brooklets, waterfalls, rivers, all wereheld fast by the ice-king. Simon was much impressed by the scenery. Thegreat giant mountains towering up on every hand were a revelation tohim, and he stood open-mouthed, gazing at what is perhaps among thegrandest sights in France. 

We swept through Mont Cenis Tunnel, and then, with a cry of gladness, weentered the sunny land of Italy. What a change it was! Here the warmsun, which had been hidden on the other side by the high mountain range, had melted the snow, and so bright streams of water came rushing downthe mountain sides, laughing as if in glee. The cottagers sat outsidetheir doors, singing in the sun. The vine-covered hills, although notyet clothed with their green garment, were still beautiful, while awayin the distance spread a broad Italian plain, dotted with villages, outof whose midst a modest church spire ever lifted its head. 

I had seen all this before, but to Simon it was a marvel of beauty. InEngland the streets were muddy, and a yellow fog hung over London, andyet in forty-eight hours we were beneath sunny skies, we were breathinga comparatively humid air. 

But I must not stay to write about this, for my story is not aboutItalian scenery, or beautiful sights of any sort. It is my work now totell about my search after Kaffar. 

We arrived in Turin on Friday evening, about fifty-one hours from thetime we started from London. We had spent some little time in Paris, orwe could have done it more quickly. We found Turin lit up with a purebright light, and, as Simon declared, "looking one of the most purtiestplaces like, as ever he'd clapped his eyes on. "

We stayed at Hotel Trombetta. We had several reasons for doing this. First, it was a good hotel. I had stayed there before, and so I knew. Itwas also near the station, and fairly near the place where, according toSimon's sketch, Kaffar was staying. We got into the hotel just in timefor dinner. Simon declared that he "dar'n't go into the dining-room amo'the swells like; it would take away his appetite jist like waccinationdid;" but as I insisted, he gave way, and certainly did not draw anyone's attention by his awkwardness. I had got him a perfectly fittingsuit of clothes in Paris, in which he looked a respectable member ofsociety. 

Directly after dinner I went out, to try to find Kaffar's whereabouts;but although Turin is beautifully built, and the streets very straight, I found I had to put off my search until the morning. 

Every hour of waiting was, as the reader may imagine, of great anxietyto me. I was now making my great move. If I missed in this, all waslost. Was Kaffar in Turin? Was he or had he been there? Was all thismesmerism so much hocus-pocus and nonsense to deceive me, a credulousfool? And yet I was sure Simon would not be a party in deceiving me. Butmight not I have been deceived by the professor? Could he not make myfriend say, not what really existed, but what existed in his own mind?And yet the little man seemed honest! Anyhow, I could do no more, and itwas my only hope. There could be no harm in trying. If I failed, well, Icould not help it; I had done my best. I would go back and face Voltaireand Miss Forrest, and--well--I knew not what--! But if I found theEgyptian! Ah, it was too good to be true. I dared not dwell upon thethought. It was not for me to build castles in the air, and weavebright fancies; but to work, until I had accomplished the work I had setout to do. 

And so I went quietly to bed, and, much to my astonishment, slept longand soundly. The sun was shining in at my window when I awoke, and thisItalian city looked wondrously beautiful as it lay there this clearDecember morning, in the light of the bright sun. 

We wasted no time after breakfast before setting out--I with beatingheart, Simon still calm and collected, looking with critical eyes on thesketch he had drawn in his mesmeric sleep. 

"After all, " remarked Simon, slowly, "it shows us how a feller can liveaway from his body, don't it, then? We are fearfully and terribly made, as Solomon said to the people on Mount Sinai. "

I did not reply to Simon's philosophy, nor to his wonderful scripturalquotations. I was too anxious to get to this hotel, where I hoped Kaffarwould be staying. 

We came to the great square in which stood the palace of the king, but Ipaid no heed to the imposing building nor to the magnificently carvedmonuments that stood around in the square. I was too anxious to turndown the street in which my hopes lay. 

I went slowly down, till I came to the bottom of it, where a narrowroad branched off, leading to a kind of observatory; but I saw nothingof an hotel. 

My heart became like lead. 

Simon's sketch of the streets had not been a false one. If any of myreaders have been to Turin, they will remember the long street leadingfrom the station; they will also recognize the two squares which Simonindicated in his plan. True, he had sketched them out of proportion, while the street was far more straight than he had drawn it. Still, itbore a close resemblance to that particular part of the city. 

But there was no hotel, nor sign of one in the street. 

We walked up and down again and again, with no success. Could it be thatI had come all these weary miles again only for a bitter and terribledisappointment? The thought almost drove me mad. 

I would not give up, however! There might be no hotel, but it waspossible Kaffar stayed in a lodging-house, or even in a private house. Iwould knock at every house in the street, and make inquiries, before Iwould give up. 

The Italian language was not altogether strange to me. I could not byany means speak it fluently, but I knew it enough to enter into anordinary conversation. So, seeing a soldier pass up the street, Isaluted him and asked him whether he knew a lodging-house or privateboarding establishment in the street?

No, the soldier said, he did not know any at all in that street, or, indeed, in that part of the town; but if I would go with him, he woulddirect me to a splendid place, marvellously convenient, marvellouslyclean, and marvellously cheap, and, best of all, kept by his mother'ssister. 

I cannot say I felt either elated or depressed by this answer. Evidentlythis was a keen youth, trying to get a suitable customer for hisrelations. 

Another youth came up to me soon after, offering to sell me photographsof some of the principal sights in Turin. Could he tell me of anyboarding or lodging establishment in the street?

Yes, he knew of three or four. For a franc he would give me theirhistory and lead me to them. 

Was there one about the middle of the street?

Yes, there were two close together. Should he take me?

I closed with the youth's offer, and accordingly we walked down thestreet together. He entered a tobacconist's shop, assuring me that thiswas a lodging-house. 

A young Italian girl stood behind the counter, as if waiting for anorder; so I asked to see the proprietor of the place. 

She immediately went out of the shop and gave a shout, and a minuteafter a matronly woman entered, about fifty years of age, and who, fromher close resemblance to the dark-eyed girl, was probably her mother. 

Was she the proprietor of this establishment?

She was. 

Did she keep a boarding-house?

She did--for well-behaved people. 

She had no husband?

The Blessed Virgin had taken him home. 

And a man did not conduct her business?

Certainly not. She was a capable woman, able to attend to the wants ofher guests, while her daughter was a universal favourite because ofpoliteness to customers and the good tobacco she sold. Should she havethe pleasure of selling me some?

I did not reply except by a smile, which this Italian maiden evidentlytook for an assent to her mother's proposition, and accordinglyproceeded to make some cigarettes for me. Meanwhile her mother assuredme that her house was convenient and comfortable, and asked permissionto show me some vacant rooms, and give me an idea of the attendance Ishould receive. 

I accordingly followed her, and found rooms which, while not altogetheraccording to my English tastes, did her credit. 

"Have you many lodgers now?" I asked. 

"Four, " was the reply. 

"Gentlemen?"

"All gentlemen. "

"Might I ask their nationality?" I said. 

"They are all Italian, " was the reply. 

My hopes had risen high, but they were by this answer dashed to theground. Then I remembered that Simon had described Kaffar as being in aroom with a man. So, after thanking the lady for her kindness and payingfor the cigarettes, I asked the boy, who was waiting for his franc, toshow me to the other lodging-house close by. 

"Oh, sir, " said the proprietress of this establishment, "don't go there!It's a bad house; it really is! The lodgers are bad men, and they arebad people. " She said this evidently in earnest, while the little girlbehind the counter hoped I should not go among those thieves. 

I was not displeased at this. I did not think Kaffar would be veryparticular as to his society, and he would be more likely to stay atthis disreputable place than in a respectable lodging-house. 

Accordingly, I told the good lady that I should not take lodgings there, and, if I took apartments in any place in the city, hers should have thefirst consideration. This considerably mollified her, so my guideproceeded to lead the way to the other lodging-house. This was also atobacconist's shop, but a dirty old woman stood behind the counter. Shewas very polite, however, and quickly called down the proprietor of theestablishment. 

This was a lodging-house, was it not?

He assured me that my surmise was correct, and forthwith began toenumerate the advantages received by those who were fortunate enough tobe received as lodgers. 

"Have you many lodgers at present?" I asked. 

"Five, " was the reply. 

My heart began to beat violently now, for I felt I was near the timewhen my labours would be rewarded by success, or I should have to giveup my search in despair. 

"Are they all Europeans?" I asked. 

"No. There was one Turk, one Frenchman, two Italians, and one Egyptian. "

My heart gave a great bound. Surely I had been guided aright; I shouldfind him at last. 

"Are they at home during the day?"

"No, " was the reply; "they are mostly out. "

"But they come home at night?"

"Yes, they come home at night, all except one. "

Which was he?

The Egyptian. 

Did he stay at home during the day?

He really could not say. He only came a little more than two days ago, and his habits seemed uncertain. 

"And is the Egyptian at home now?"

"No, " said the man, eyeing me keenly. 

"Might I ask when he will be home?" I asked eagerly. 

"I do not think it right to answer questions about my lodgers, " said theman, sharply. "You have asked a great many; I must know your reasons forso doing before I answer any more. "

I began to chide myself for my folly. I had raised suspicions, and now Imight not be able to get the information I wanted. "I did not intend tobe offensive, " I said. "If I mistake not, this Egyptian gentleman isacquainted with a man in England whom I know, and I have a message ofgreat importance to convey. "

"To Mr. Kaffar's advantage?" asked the Italian, eagerly. 

No words can express what I felt as the man unthinkingly utteredKaffar's name. I had not come on a false report. The Egyptian bore thename of the man I wanted to find. 

"He can turn it to his advantage, " I replied. 

"Mr. Kaffar is not in Turin at present, " he said confidentially. 

"Could you tell me where he is?" I said, with beating heart. 

"I cannot. You see--" and the Italian put his face close to mine. "MightI ask if you are somewhat of a--well, a gentleman fond of play?"

I did not reply. 

"Ah, I thought so, " said he, cunningly. "At first I was afraid you werea detective fellow, but I see now. Well, you will perhaps know that Mr. Kaffar is a very accomplished gentleman, and he left yesterday afternoonfor a little tour--where I don't know. Another accomplished gentlemanwent with him. We have a jolly house, and you Englishmen would enjoy afew nights here. Come up to-night and win some of our Italian gold. "

"When will Mr. Kaffar be back?"

"He said he might be back on Monday night--on Tuesday morning atlatest. "

"I daren't come and play till he comes, " I said. "Will he let you knowwhen he is coming back?"

"Yes; he said he'd telegraph. "

"Would you mind letting me know the train? I am staying at the HotelTrombetta. "

"Yes, yes, I shall be delighted; and then, when he comes, we'll--Butwhat name shall I write on my message?"

"Herod Voltaire, " I said. 

I went away then, and began to think. I found the man, and yet I hadnot. Nothing was certain yet. It was now Saturday, and he would notreturn until Monday night or Tuesday morning, and I must be in London byWednesday at midnight, or all was lost. Say he came back on Tuesday bynoon, there would then be only thirty-six hours left in which to get toLondon. Thirty-six hours, and many hundreds of dreary, weary milesbetween! Or if he should not come at all! If the Italian were deceivingme!

I shall not try and relate what happened the next two days, except tosay that I set Simon to watch every train that came into Turin station, while I did all I could to discover whether he were hiding in Turin. 

Neither of us saw Kaffar, nor did we hear anything of him. 

Monday night came. I had received no message from the lodging-housekeeper, neither had I heard any news. The suspense was becomingterrible. 

Six o'clock! Seven o'clock, and no news!

"Simon, " I said, "go to that lodging-house and ask whether any messagehas been received. "

The willing fellow, still with a smile on his face and a cheery look, started to do my bidding. I do not know how I should have borne upduring those two terrible days, but for my faithful friend. 

He had not been gone above half a minute before he came bounding back tomy room. 

"A message jist 'a come, yer honour!" he cried. 

Eagerly I snatched it, and read--"_Expect me home to-night by themidnight train. --KAFFAR. _"

I caught up a time-table and anxiously scanned it. The telegram was from_Nice_. There was a train due from this fashionable seaport at 12. 30. 

The lodging-house keeper had kept his word, and Kaffar would be safe. Itwas become intensely real, intensely exciting!

Five hours to wait--five hours! Only those who have felt as I did canknow what they meant. 

At twelve o'clock I sent Simon to the station, while I went to thelodging-house to await Kaffar's arrival. 

"Mr. Kaffar will have supper, I suppose?" I said to the proprietor ofthe house. 

"Yes, I shall prepare supper. "

"Where?"

"In his own room. "

"Just so. Could you manage to put me in a room where I can see him atsupper without being observed? I should like to enter quietly and givehim a surprise. "

"You mean nothing wrong?"

"On my honour, I do not. "

"It is said, " mused the Italian, "that an English gentleman's honour islike English cloth; it can always be depended on. The adjoining room isempty, sir. "

"Thank you, " I replied, while he led the way to the room. 

I had not been there long before I heard some one enter with thelandlord. The two rooms, like many we find in French hotels, couldeasily be made one, as a doorway led from one to the other. I hadarranged my door to be slightly ajar, so was able to see. 

The man with the landlord was Kaffar!

I found that Kaffar could not speak Italian. He spoke French enough tomake himself understood, and, as his host was proficient in thatlanguage, French was the tongue in which they conversed. 

"Has any one been asking for me?" asked Kaffar. 

"Yes, sir. "

"Who?"

"A gentleman from England. "

"From England! What kind of a man?"

"A giant, with brown hair. "

"A giant, with brown hair! Man, where is he now?"

"How can I say?" said the Italian. 

Kaffar held down his head for a minute, and then said hastily, "And hismessage?"

"Something to your advantage, sir. "

"My advantage? Can it be he? Did he give his name?"

"Herod Voltaire!"

"Voltaire! Never! He dare not come near me; I'm his master for manyreasons--he dare not come! But--"

He checked himself, as if he were telling the Italian too much. The hostthen left the room, while Kaffar went on with his supper. 

I opened the door noiselessly and went into the room, and saiddistinctly, "Good evening, Mr. Kaffar. "

He looked up and saw me. Never, I think, did I see so much terror, astonishment, mingled with hate, expressed on a human face before. 

He made a leap for the door. I caught him, and held him fast. 

"No, Mr. Kaffar, you must not escape, " I said, leading him back to hischair. 

"You cannot--kill me--here!" he gasped. "I mean no wrong--to you. I--Ah, you've followed me for revenge. "

For an answer I went to the door and locked it. 

"Have mercy!" he said. "Don't kill me. I--you don't know all! Voltaire'syour enemy, not I. "

"You knew I was following you, did you?" I said. 

"Yes. Voltaire said you were mad for my life; that you swore to berevenged; that you would pull me limb from limb! Ah, you do not know. "

Surely I had found out the man's nature. He was a coward, and stood indeadly fear of me. He had been Voltaire's tool, who had frightened himto do his every bidding. Now I must use his fear of me to make him do mywill. 

"Well, I have found you out, " I said. "You thought you would master me, didn't you?"

"Well, I'm master of you both. Voltaire's influence over me is gone, andnow he is in my power; while you--"

"Ah, Mr. Blake, have mercy, " he whined. "I only did what he told me, andhe has treated me like a dog. "

"Yes; he intended me to kill you, while both of you tried to ruin me. "

"Curse him! I know he did. Oh, I am not his friend now. Mr. Blake, forgive me. Ah, say--"

I felt that if I allowed this man to think my welfare depended on hisdoing my will, he would defy me. I must use means suitable to the man. 

"Kaffar, " I said, "had I a heart like you Egyptians, you know what Ishould do; but--well, I will be merciful on one condition. "

"Oh, what-what?"

"That you will come back to England with me at once. "

"I cannot; I dare not. He has promised to take my life-blood if I do. "

"No harm shall happen to you, I promise. "

"You will not allow him to touch me?"

"He shall not. "

"Then I will go. "

My point was gained. The man had promised to accompany me willingly, while I had expected a difficult matter in getting him to England. 

Early the next day we were on our way to England, Simon and I takingturns in watching the wily Egyptian. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE SECOND CHRISTMAS EVE

The skies were clear when we left Turin, and the air pure and free. Wehad not got far into France, however, when we found everything changed. It was snow--snow everywhere. On ordinary occasions I should not haveminded much, but now everything depended on my getting to London at acertain hour. How slowly the train seemed to creep, to be sure; and howlong we stopped at the little roadside stations!

Simon did his best to cheer me, while Kaffar furtively watched us both, as if in fear. I was silent and fearful, for I felt sure the Egyptianmeditated escape. The laughter of the light-hearted French people, whowere preparing for Christmas festivities, grated on my ears; for, although I had succeeded almost beyond my hopes, a great fear restedupon me that I should fail even yet. Especially was this realized whenI knew that our train was hours late, and I knew that did we not arrivein Paris at something like reasonable time, we should miss the expresstrains for England. 

When we got to the French metropolis we were nearly five hours late. Itwas not to be wondered at, for the snow fell in blinding drifts, until, in some cases, the railways were completely blocked. The wonder was howwe got to Paris so soon, when we considered what had to be contendedwith. 

Anxiously I inquired after trains by which I could catch the boats forEngland, but the replies were vague. First, it was now Christmas Eve, which at all times caused the general traffic to be delayed; and, second, the weather was so bad that to state times of arrival wasimpossible. 

It was now Wednesday morning, and I started from Paris with sixteenhours before me in which to get to London. Ordinarily I should have hadtime enough and to spare, but everything was delayed and confused. I hadthought of going back by Dieppe and Newhaven; but a storm was blowing, and I knew that meant a longer sea-passage, so I went to Calais, thusriding through one of the most uninteresting parts of France. It wasfive o'clock on Christmas Eve when we arrived at this little Frenchseaport, and then it took us two hours to cross the straits, although wehappened to be on one of the fast-sailing steamers. We had now fivehours to get to Kensington. I was getting terribly anxious now. If thereshould be a breakdown, or if anything should happen to hinder us! Wewere so near, and yet so far. Once I thought of telegraphing and tellingof my success, but I refrained from that. I wanted to tell of my victoryin person, and thus, if needs be, destroy Voltaire's last hope. 

The usual time for an express train to run from Dover to Victoria isabout two hours; but it was Christmas Eve, special trains were running, and passengers crowded on every hand, thus we were more than three hoursin accomplishing the journey. The train swept into Victoria at aquarter-past ten. There was one hour and three-quarters to go toKensington. 

"This way to the Custom House, " shouted one of the officials. I hadforgotten this part of the programme, but I determined not to wait formy luggage. I would sooner lose it a thousand times over than be late inreaching Kensington. I accordingly got the keys from Kaffar and Simon, and pointing out the portmanteaus to an official, gave him a sovereignto see them examined and sent on to my address in Gower Street. 

I hailed a hansom, but the cabby refused to take the three of us, uponwhich Kaffar offered to go in another; but I dared not risk him out ofmy sight, so we got into a rumbling old four-wheeler, and I offered thecabby a sovereign if he would get me at the address I gave him inhalf-an-hour. 

"Couldn't do it for ten sovereigns, sir, " said the cabby. "The streetsis as slippery as glass, and as crowded as herrin's in a barrel. I'll doit in _three-quarters_ for a quid, yer honour. "

It was now nearly half-past ten; that would make it a quarter-pasteleven. To me it was drawing it terribly fine, but I consented. If hewere not spurred on by thought of reward, short as the distance was, there was no knowing how long he would be. 

At length the cab stopped. It was a quarter-past eleven, and as I gotout I noticed that we stood in front of one of those tall noble-lookingmansions which are so common in Kensington. 

"Wait a minute, " I said to the cabby; "I want to be certain this is theright house. " Meanwhile I noticed that my constant friend Simon heldKaffar by the arm. 

I rang the bell violently, and a servant appeared at the door. 

Did Miss Gertrude Forrest live there?

Yes. 

Was she at home?

Yes. 

Could I see her?

The servant was not sure, but would ascertain. Miss Forrest was thenengaged. 

I stopped the man, for I did not wish to appear in the way that mattersseemed to promise. Meanwhile Simon had paid the cabby, and so the threeof us stood together in the hall. 

"I am an old friend of Miss Forrest's, " I said to the man; "I want to beshown to the room where she is, without her being apprised of mypresence. "

"I daren't, " he replied; "it would be as much as my place is worth. "

"No, it would not, " I replied. "You would not suffer in the slightestdegree. "

"But there are several people in the room, " he said, eyeing a sovereignI was turning over in my hand. 

"How many?"

"There's Miss Forrest, her aunt, and Miss Staggles, besides a gentlemanthat came early in the evening. "

"That gentleman's name is Herod Voltaire, " I said. 

"Yes, sir, that's the name. Well, I'll do as you wish me. "

I followed the servant, while Simon kept fast hold on Kaffar. The manknocked at the door, while I stood close behind him, and the moment heopened the door I entered the room. 

Never shall I forget the sight. Evidently Voltaire had been claiming thefulfilment of her promise, for he was earnestly speaking when I entered, while Miss Forrest, pale as death, sat by an elderly lady, who Iconcluded to be her aunt. Miss Staggles also sat near, as grim andtaciturn as ever. 

"It is nearly twelve o'clock, " I heard Voltaire say, "and he's not here. He dare not come; how dare he? He has left the country, and will neverreturn again. "

"But I am here, " I said distinctly. 

They all turned as I spoke, and Miss Forrest gave a scream. I had beentravelling incessantly for forty hours, so I am afraid I did not presenta very pleasant appearance. No doubt I was travel-stained and dustyenough. 

"Who are you?" demanded Voltaire. 

"You know well enough who I am, " I said. 

"Begone!" he cried; "this is no place for murderers. "

"No, " I said, "it is not. "

No sooner had Miss Forrest realized who I was, than she rushed to myside. 

"Oh, are you safe--are you safe?" she said huskily. 

I looked at her face, and it was deathly pale, while her eyes told meshe had passed sleepless nights. 

"No, he's not safe, " said Voltaire, "and he shall pay for this with hislife. "

"Is it manly, " I said to him, "to persecute a lady thus? Can't you seehow she scorns you, hates you, loathes you? Will you insist on herabiding by a promise which was made in excitement to save an innocentman?"

"Innocent!" he sneered, and I noticed a look of victory still in hisglittering eye. "Innocent! Yes, as innocent as Nero or Robespierre; butyou shall not come here to pollute the air by your presence. Begone!before I forget myself, and send for the police to lock you up. Ah, Ilong for vengeance on the man who murdered my dear friend. "

"Then you will not release Miss Forrest?"

"Never!"

"Then I shall make you. "

"You make me?" he cried savagely. 

Meanwhile Miss Forrest had clung tremblingly to my arm; Miss Forrest'saunt had looked fearfully, first at Voltaire, then at me; while MissStaggles had been mumbling something about showing me out of doors. 

"Yes, " I said; "I shall make you. "

"You cannot, " he jeered. "I have it in my power now to lodge you safe ina felon's gaol, and bring you to a hangman's noose. "

"Ay, and I would too, " cried Miss Staggles. "You are too kind, tooforbearing, Mr. Voltaire. "

"Oh, leave me, " cried Miss Forrest, clinging closer to me; "I willsuffer anything rather than you should be--be--"

"Ring the bell for a servant, " I said; and Miss Forrest's aunttremblingly touched a button close beside her. 

The man who had showed me in immediately answered the summons. 

"Show my friends in, " I said. 

A minute more and Simon entered, carefully leading Kaffar. Voltaire gavea yell like that of a mad dog, while Miss Forrest gave a scream ofdelight. 

"There, villain, " I said, "is the man whom you say I've murdered. "

"How dare you come here?" said Voltaire to Kaffar. 

"Because I brought him, " I said, "to save this lady and expose you. Now, where is your power, and where are the charges you have brought?"

Had he a pistol I believe he would have shot me dead. His ground was cutfrom under him. The man who destroyed his every hope stood before usall, and refuted his terrible charges. For a minute he stood as ifirresolute; then he turned to Miss Forrest and spoke as coolly as ifnothing had happened. 

"May I claim your pardon, your forgiveness?" he said. "Believe me, lady, it was all because I loved you that I have acted as I have. Say, then, now that all is against me, that you forgive me. "

She hesitated a minute before replying; then she said slowly, "It isdifficult for me to speak to you without shuddering. Never did I believesuch villainy possible; but--but I pray that God may forgive you, as Ido. "

"Then I will leave you, " he said, with a terrible look at me. 

"No, " I said; "you will not leave us so easily. Know, man, that you arepunishable by the law of England. "

"How?"

"You are guilty of many things that I need not enumerate here; someKaffar has told me about, some I knew before. So, instead of my lying ina felon's cell, it will be you. "

Then we all received a great shock. Miss Staggles arose from her chairand rushed towards me. 

"No, no, Mr. Blake, " she cried; "no, not for my sake. He's my only son. For my sake, spare him. "

"_Your_ only son? _Yours?_" cried Miss Forrest's aunt. 

"Mine, " cried this gaunt old woman. "Oh, I was married on the Continentwhen quite a girl, and I dared not tell of it, for my husband was agambler and a villain; but he was handsome and fascinating, and so hewon me. Herod, this son of mine, was born just the day before his fatherwas killed in a duel. Oh, spare him for my sake!"

I need not enter into the further explanations she made, nor how shepleaded for mercy for him, for they were painful to all. And did I sparehim? Yes; on condition that he left England, never to return again, besides stipulating for Kaffar's safety. 

He left the house soon after, and we all felt a sense of relief when hehad gone, save Miss Staggles, or rather Mrs. Voltaire, who went up toher room weeping bitterly. 

Need I relate what followed that night? Need I tell how I had to recountmy doings and journeyings over again and again, while Simon and Kaffarwere asked to give such information as I was unable to give, and how onecircumstance was explained by another until all was plain? I will nottax my readers' patience by so doing; this must be left to their ownimagination. 

After this, Mrs. Walters insisted that we must have refreshments, andbustled away to order it, while a servant conducted Simon and Kaffar toa room where food was to be obtained; and so I was left alone with thewoman I loved. 

"Well?" I said, when they were gone. 

"Well?" she replied, looking shyly into my face. 

"I have done your bidding, " I said, after a minute's silence. "I havefreed you from that man. "

"Thank God, you have!" she said, with a shudder. "Oh, if you only knewhow I have prayed and hoped and thought!"

"And I had a promise, too, " I said; "will it be painful for you to keepit?"

"Painful, Justin?" she cried. "You know I will gladly be your wife. "

I will not write of what happened then. It is not for the eyes of theworld to see. Tears come into my eyes now as I remember how hernew-found happiness lit up her eyes with joy, and how the colour cameinto her beautiful cheeks. God alone knows how happy we were. We hadbeen kept asunder by a cruel hand, and had been brought together againby long and bitter struggles, struggles which would never have been butfor the love of God and the love in our hearts. Then, when our joy wasfullest, a choir from a neighbouring church began to sing--

"Christians, awake, salute the happy morn, Whereon the Saviour of mankind was born. "

It was indeed, a happy Christmas morn to us. The darkness had rolledaway, and the light of heaven shone upon us. 

When I left shortly after, I asked whether I should come the next day, or rather when daylight came, and spend Christmas Day with her. 

"You must not be later than nine o'clock, " she said, with a glad laugh, while my heart seemed ready to break for joy. 

I have nearly told my story now; the loving work of months is almost atan end, and soon I must drop my pen. I am very happy, happier than Iever hoped to be. My new-found strength not only brought me freedom frommy enemy, not only enabled me to accomplish my purpose, but gave mefuller and richer life. Gertrude and I live under brighter skies than weshould do had I not been led through so terrible an experience. Thus theEternal Goodness brings good out of evil. 

Voltaire is on the Continent. I do not think that he has ever returnedto England; while his mother, who still lives the same kind of life asof yore, supplies him with money. It appears that she has means whichwere unknown to her friends, and thus she keeps him supplied. Of coursethe relationship between them explains their being in league inYorkshire. She was ever seeking to serve him then; she is still tryingto do the same. She never speaks to me. But for me, she says, her sonwould have married Gertrude, and then she would have lived with herHerod, who would have been a country gentleman, not the poor outcast heis now. 

Kaffar has gone back to Egypt. He stayed in London a few days after thescene on Christmas Eve, and I gave him house-room in my old lodgings;but he tired of England, so I sent him back to Cairo. I think he is afar better man than he was, but I am not at all sorry that he dislikesEngland. He writes sometimes, but I never receive his letters withoutthinking of the terrible night on the Yorkshire moors--of the darkwaters, the red hand, and the terrible struggle. Although I am nowentirely free from any such influences, I cannot help fearfullywondering at the awful power one being can exert over another. How anevil man could almost deplete me of my own self, and make me seeaccording to his will and act according to his desires, is to me beyondexplanation. Truly does our greatest poet say--

 "We are such stuff As dreams are made of, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. "

Tom Temple is married, and lives happily at Temple Hall. Tom attributesall his happiness to the ghost. He should never have had the pluck toask Edith Gray to be his wife, he says, had not his lady-love been sofearful. 

"But you found no difficulty in getting her consent, Tom?" I said oneday at Temple Hall. 

"Difficulty!" laughed Tom. "She said 'Yes' before I had stuttered outmy little speech. "

"I couldn't bear to see you in such an agony of pain, " blushinglyreplied his happy little wife. 

Ah, well, Tom deserves his happiness, because he makes those around himhappy. 

Simon Slowden lives with Gertrude and me. He declared that he couldn'tbear the idea of leaving us, after he'd gone through so much to bring ustogether. We are not sorry for this, for he has been an incalculablehelp to me in many ways. But for him, perhaps, I should never have thetreasure I now possess, the truest and noblest wife God ever gave toman; but for him, I might have dragged out my weary life, disappointedand almost broken-hearted. Of course this might not be so; but I knowthat Simon was one of my greatest helpers in making me the happiest manon earth. 

I will close my story with a secret. Yesterday, Simon came to me, looking very grave. 

"If I remember aright, yer honour, " he said, "I told you as 'ow I'dcompletely finished wi' all belongin' to the female persuasion. "

"You did, Simon. "

"Well, I've changed my mind. I used to think after that waccinatin'business gived me small-pox, that I was done for; but that 'ere Emilythe 'ousemaid 'ev bin waccinated, and she 'ev had small-pox too. Well, 't seems to me as 'ow it must hev bin special Providence as hev broughtus together, as we read in the Book of Job; and not likin' to go 'ginProvidence, I axed her to change her name to Slowden. "

"Well, Simon, what was her reply?"

"She seed the force o' my reasonin's in a minute, and so, as you maysay, 'there'll be good brought out o' evil, ' even the evil o'waccinatin'; for it's give us both small-pox, and we both live. Ourfaces be a bit pitty, but kisses ain't none the less sweet for that. "

"And when is it to come off, Simon?"

"I'm goin' to the registrar's now, yer honour, so three weeks to-morrowI shall be took in and done for, and all threw waccination. "

THE END