in the least matter; don't tell me now."

She lay silent another moment, then answered slowly:

"No ... I will tell you. It won't hurt me now. You see, I have been
kept a prisoner ... unconscious ... in the doctor's laboratory, you
know, at the top of his house ... in the Route de Grasse."

"A prisoner----!"

For the life of him he could not repress the utter incredulity he felt
at this astounding statement.

"I don't think you believe me," she said, smiling the ghost of a smile.
"I know it sounds impossible, but it's true. He never meant for me to
leave there alive. He was going to do away with me so as to leave no
trace."

Suddenly he knew that she was speaking the truth.

"Esther--do you know what you're saying?"

Cold horror gripped him. It seemed unthinkable that this tender young
creature so close to him had lately passed through the hell she
described. In a daze he listened to the dry, hoarse voice as it
continued:

"Oh, I know all right. He kept me stupefied. I never knew how I got
there; I didn't even know I was there ... it was only through an
accident that I came to at all, otherwise... Such a silly accident!
All because Captain Holliday didn't give me the injection properly."

"_Holliday?_"

He wondered if he had heard aright. She did not answer, going off, at
first softly, then with increasing vehemence into convulsions of
laughter that shook her from head to foot. He clasped her close in his
arms and held her to him, smoothing her rough curls and whispering:

"Steady on, Esther dear! It's all over now. You're safe with me; I
sha'n't let anything happen to you!"

She subsided at last, the tears spilling over her lashes and down her
cheeks unheeded. He wiped them away, realising how spent she was with
the effort of relating, even so briefly, her terrible experience.

"Rest now, darling. You must keep absolutely quiet. I don't want to
hear any more now, except... Esther, I wonder if I dare ask you one
thing. Don't speak if you don't feel like it. But ... you realise we
can't make a definite charge of any kind until we know what we're
about. You understand that, I know. Tell me, dear, are there any
proofs of this horrible story? I mean proofs of the plot you spoke of
to murder my father, and also of your being sequestered in the
laboratory."

He saw her eyes narrow with thought. She lay very still, as though to
focus all her strength to give him a connected answer.