his arms and held her. He knew his
danger, but forgot everything in the deliciousness of her embraces.

"Penelope!"

She drew back in displeasure.

"No! I'm not Penelope. Look at me! Look!"

What was it the soldier read in those siren eyes--what depths of
allurement--what sublime degradation?

"Fauvette!" he faltered.

"Yes, your Fauvette. Say it!"

He said it, knowing that his power of resistance was breaking. He was
going to yield to her, he could not help yielding. What did the
consequences matter? She was too beautiful.

Then slowly, musically, the neighboring chimes resounded.

A quarter to one!

And Christopher remembered.

God! What should he do? He straightened from her with hands clenched and
eyes hardening.

In a flash she saw the change. She knew what he was thinking and pressed
close to him, offering again her red lips.

"No!"

"Don't be a fool! You can save _her_, your goody-goody Penelope. It's
the only way. I will leave her alone, except occasionally--I swear I
will."

"No! You're lying!" It seemed as if he repeated words spoken within him.

"Lying?" Her eyes half closed over slumberous fires. "Do you think
Penelope can ever love you as I can--as your Fauvette can? Share her
with me or--" she panted, "or you will lose her entirely. Penelope dies
tomorrow night, you know that, unless--"

Frantically she tried to encircle him with her arms, but Herrick
repulsed her. Some power beyond himself was strengthening him.

"Oh!" she cried in fury, "you don't deserve to have a beautiful woman.
Very well! This is the end!" She darted to the bedroom door and unlocked
it. "Come! I'll show you."

Deathly pale, she led the way into the sitting-room and, going to
Christopher's coat, she drew out a small flask.

"There! This is the danger she wrote about. _I know._ Spiritual danger!
Ha! I'm going to open this. Yes, I am. You can't stop me."

"Don't! It's death!"

But already she had unscrewed a metal stopper and drawn forth a small
glass vial filled with a colorless liquid.

"One step nearer, and I'll smash this on the floor!" she threatened. "If
I can't have you, _she_ never shall!"

The captain faced her quietly, knowing well what was at stake.

"Penelope!"

She stamped her foot. "I'm not Penelope. I'm Fauvette. I hate Penelope.
For the last time--will you do what I want?"

"No!"

She lifted the vial.

"Stop!" came a masterful voice, and, turning, they saw Dr. Leroy
standing in th