ng weakened, the witches
and wolves are leaping forth to vex and destroy. Over this fortuitous
subversion of her soul's kingdom Clarke now rules like a demon
councillor.

"Considered in the light of a study in morbid psychology, her case is
enthralling. From the standpoint of human pity this use of her is a
diabolical outrage. Suppose Kate to be right--suppose the girl has
awakened to a full realization of her danger? Suppose that her cry for
succor is real, can I, can any man who hears it, refuse to heed?
Would I ever sleep in peace again?"

He went further, he admitted that her beauty was the deciding element.
"She is too lovely to be left to a fanatic's designs. She has matured
in body, grown more womanly, since we rode the trail together; may it
not be that her mind, maturing even more rapidly, has come to perceive
the crumbling edge of the abyss before it stands and turns to science
as the only rescuer? No matter what her past deceptions have been, is
it not my duty to help her?"

His anger and contempt dissolved into compassion. He recalled her
youth, her inexperience. "I will at least see her again," he decided,
deep in the night. "I will talk with her. I will draw her out. I will
study her. All will depend upon her attitude towards me and towards
her own soul." And in that softened mood sleep came to him.

IX

VIOLA'S PLEA FOR HELP

Morton went to his work next morning quite unfitted for an especially
delicate piece of dissection which he had in hand. He bungled it, and
Weissmann transfixed him with a glare of disapproval. "My boy, these
social gayeties do not consort well with science."

The young man smiled to think how wide of the mark his chief was. He
held up both hands. "I swear, it shall not happen again." Then, moved
by a desire to secure a comment on the curious phenomena of the
seance, he related the story of his brief interview with his uncle
Ben's ghost. "Now, do you suppose that Clarke, or the 'medium,' could
dig around among the dusty, forgotten lumber of my mind and get hold
of a queer fact like that nickname?"

"Why go so far round?" inquired Weissmann. "Why not say it was your
uncle Ben who spoke?"

"You are joking."

"I am _not_ joking. If the facts are as you say, then one explanation
is as reasonable as the other."

Serviss was amazed. "You don't really mean it!"

"If you say it was an illusion of the sense of hearing, I agree; but
do we not stagger among illusions? W