To his right was a rail and some broad steps rising
toward a softly confused mass of little gray vertical bars and the pale
twinkle of tiny spots of gilded reflection, which he made out in the
dusk to be the candles and trappings of the altar. Overhead the great
arches faded away from foundations of dimly discernible capitals
into utter blackness. There was a strange medicinal odor--as of cubeb
cigarettes--in the air.

After a little pause, he tiptoed noiselessly up the side aisle toward
the end of the church--toward the light above the gallery. This radiance
from a single gas-jet expanded as he advanced, and spread itself upward
over a burnished row of monster metal pipes, which went towering into
the darkness like giants. They were roaring at him now--a sonorous,
deafening, angry bellow, which made everything about him vibrate. The
gallery balustrade hid the keyboard and the organist from view. There
were only these jostling brazen tubes, as big round as trees and as
tall, trembling with their own furious thunder. It was for all the world
as if he had wandered into some vast tragical, enchanted cave, and was
being drawn against his will--like fascinated bird and python--toward
fate at the savage hands of these swollen and enraged genii.

He stumbled in the obscure light over a kneeling-bench, making a
considerable racket. On the instant the noise from the organ ceased, and
he saw the black figure of a woman rise above the gallery-rail and look
down.

"Who is it?" the indubitable voice of Miss Madden demanded sharply.

Theron had a sudden sheepish notion of turning and running. With the
best grace he could summon, he called out an explanation instead.

"Wait a minute. I'm through now. I'm coming down," she returned. He
thought there was a note of amusement in her tone.

She came to him a moment later, accompanied by a thin, tall man, whom
Theron could barely see in the dark, now that the organ-light too was
gone. This man lighted a match or two to enable them to make their way
out.

When they were on the sidewalk, Celia spoke: "Walk on ahead, Michael!"
she said. "I have some matters to speak of with Mr. Ware."

CHAPTER X

"Well, what did you think of Dr. Ledsmar?"

The girl's abrupt question came as a relief to Theron. They were walking
along in a darkness so nearly complete that he could see next to nothing
of his companion. For some reason, this seemed to suggest a sort of
impropriety. He had liste