there was more than common
interest betrayed in her voice; surely that face showed an earnestness
beyond the common interest of a passing acquaintance?

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

I spoke passionately, pleadingly. She turned her head to reply, and I
was bending my head so as not to miss a word when a subtle power seized
me. I did not wait for her reply, but turned my head in a different
direction.

"Let us join the others," I stammered with difficulty, and rode away
without waiting for her consent.

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

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

"They surely are," I said. The words were dragged out of me, as if by
sheer 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 people
riding.

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

I could see I was surprising Miss Forrest more and more, but she did not
speak 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 Surely
something's the matter?"

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

I set my teeth together and vowed to be free, but, looking again at
Voltaire's eyes, my feeling