mind. I ran
after her as fast as I could, and came up with her as she was turning
down a small dark lane leading, as I knew, to a little court, the home
of a very poor but respectable section of the inhabitants of
Bishopsthorpe.

"Aunt Phoebe," I gasped as I touched her arm, "where are you going?
You must be making a mistake!"

"No, no!" she cried, with a feverish impatience in her voice. "I am
right! quite right! You must not stop me!" and she quickened her pace
into a halting run.

I saw clearly that there was nothing to be done but to follow her and
try to keep her out of actual harm's way, for there now seemed to be no
manner of doubt that my poor aunt was, for the time at any rate, insane.
So I fell back a pace, and, never appearing even to notice that I had
left her side, she pursued her course.

Suddenly she stopped short, crossed the street and stumbled up the
uneven stone steps of a shabby-looking house, whose front door was wide
open. Without a moment's hesitation she entered the dark hall, and I
followed closely at her heels. Up the squalid, dirty stairs she hurried,
and, without knocking, opened a door on the left-hand side of the first
landing and went in.

I was a few steps behind, but as I gained the threshold I saw her take a
parcel from beneath her cloak and hold it out to a man who came to meet
her from the far end of the badly-lighted room.

"I have brought them," I heard my aunt say in the same curious husky
voice I had noticed before.

As the man came nearer and stood where the light of the evil-smelling
little paraffin lamp fell upon his features, I recognised in the heavy
jaw, the bull-neck and the close-cropped head, the Professor Dmitri
Sclamowsky of the previous evening. Our eyes met, and I thought I
detected a start of not altogether pleased surprise; but if this were so
he recovered himself quickly and bowing low, said:

"I had not expected the pleasure of _your_ company, madam, but as you
have done me the honour of coming, I am glad that you should be here to
witness the conclusion of last night's experiment. This lady," he
continued, pointing to my aunt, who still stood with fixed, apparently
unseeing eyes, holding out the parcel towards him--"this lady, you will
remember, considered the hypnotic phenomena exhibited at last night's
entertainment as a clever imposture--those were the words, I think. To
one who, like myself, is an enthusiast on the subject, such words were
hard, n