his balance unless he let go the woman's wrists. To Wilhelmine, in
spite of her dauntless nature, these few seconds seemed endless.
Fortunately for her, no misgivings as to the compelling power of her eyes
crossed her mind, or probably her force might thereby have been
diminished. At length she felt a slackening of the muscles of Mueller's
hands--his gaze faltered. Again he struggled frantically. She resolved to
hazard everything, trusting entirely in her strange power. She bent
slowly downwards, all the force of her will focused in her eyes. She felt
as though each eye held a dagger wherewith she could stab her enemy's
very consciousness. Another moment and the man's hands relaxed entirely
and fell limp and inert from her wrists. She sprang up, catching her
cloak in her hand as she fled. She reached the study door before Mueller
moved. For the moment he seemed transfixed, but as she opened the door,
to her horror she saw him rise, and as she rushed down the short passage
she heard Mueller's heavy step behind her. For the first time during the
whole disgusting scene she felt afraid. Her knees seemed to fail, her
feet to grow strangely heavy. She stumbled on till she gained the house
door. She fumbled frantically at the latch; it was unfamiliar to her and
she could not unfasten it. The pursuer was up to her now and his breath
was on her cheek. Once more he threw his arms round her. She turned, like
an animal at bay, and dealt Mueller a blow full on the lips. He staggered
for an instant, and she succeeded, at last, in wrenching open the door.
He clutched at her skirt as she sprang out. It unbalanced her, and she
fell forward on her face into the snow of the street.

* * * * *

The shock of the fall, following the excitement of her struggle with
Mueller, stunned Wilhelmine for a moment, and when she dragged herself up
to a kneeling position and looked round, she found herself alone in the
driving snow. Mueller's door was shut, and the street absolutely deserted.
She rubbed the clinging snow off her face and ruefully considered the
distance which lay between her and her mother's house. The snow had
soaked through her thin stockings. She rose wearily, and drawing her
cloak round her, and over her head, she hid both her torn bodice and her
thick unbound hair, which had fallen over her shoulders during her
struggle with Mueller.

Then she started homewards through the fast-falling snow. As she p