re one of the discs which hypnotists
give to their patients. She, too, bent over the rail and gazed at the
boat as the rowers brought it nearer and nearer, but she could not see
the faces of its occupants. For three or four minutes she stood thus, and
then the boat was under the yacht's side and the men were coming up the
ladder.

The Countess moved nearer to Virginia and Dr. Grayle. She no longer
intended--for the moment at least--to catechize them, but it occurred to
her that, by merely standing within earshot while the others exchanged
questions and answers, the mystery of this night's alarming work would be
explained to her. Without being seen by her hostess or the little doctor,
she was so close now that the trailing silk and lace of her _robe de
chambre_ was blown by the light breeze against Virginia's white dress.

"Thank heaven--thank heaven!" she heard the girl exclaim as some one came
on board. The pair in front of her crowded so closely toward this person
that she could not see who it was, and could only suppose that it must be
Sir Roger Broom or George Trent returning from some strange adventure.
Then, suddenly, she saw the newcomer's face, with the moon shining full
upon it, chiselling it into the perfection of a marble masterpiece of
old, thrown up by the sea from some long engulfed palace.

She stared, incredulous, her breath in abeyance, her heart stopped like a
jarred clock. Then, over Virginia's shoulder, a pair of dark eyes found
hers--eyes darkened with tragedy while youth and joy should still have
shone in their untroubled depths.

Ah, the awfulness of that instant, the ghastly horror of it! Something in
the woman's brain seemed to snap, and, with a loud shriek that cut the
new-fallen silence as a jagged knife-blade of lightning cuts the sky, she
threw out her hands to shut away the sight and fell backward, fainting.
Virginia turned, and knew that her great moment had come.

* * * * *

When the Countess de Mattos came to herself she awoke gazing straight
upward at the stars, which danced a strange, whirling measure as the
horizon rose and dipped with the swift forging of the yacht. She was
lying on the deck, her head supported on something low and soft, and Dr.
Grayle bent over her, kneeling on one knee.

"All right again?" he inquired cheerfully, in his blunt way.

She did not answer, for with desperate haste she was collecting her
thoughts, linking together b