a ruined chapel, which had originally joined on to the old wing
of the house. Of this building little remained except portions of the
outer walls, overgrown with ivy. The pavement had long since
disappeared, and was replaced by a rank growth of grass and weeds,
amongst which lay scattered such monumental remains as had survived the
general destruction. Only one window of the house happened to look out
in this direction. I could see a light shining through the blind, and,
with a touch, drew Irene's attention to it.

"Do not alarm yourself with vain fears," she whispered; "it is only Mr.
Maitland's dressing-room. All will be quiet soon!" As she spoke, the
light was suddenly extinguished.

Only then did I realise the full horrors of my position. When that
bed-room candle went out, the last link which bound me to civilization
seemed to have snapped. I was at the mercy of an enthusiast who had
broken loose from all those conventional trammels which I hold in such
respect. Although I had the greatest admiration for Irene, nothing would
have surprised me less than if my murdered remains had been found next
morning half hidden in the dank grass of the ruined chapel.

We were standing in the deep shadow of the old wall. The silence was
intense. Indeed, after Irene's injunctions, I hardly dared breathe for
fear of drawing down some misfortune on my devoted head. Not that I
quite believed anything was going to happen, only it was best to be on
the safe side. Suddenly the stillness was broken by the distant sound of
the stable clock striking twelve.

"It has come!" whispered Irene, stooping towards me with an expression
of the utmost anxiety. "Now you must obey me absolutely, or we shall
both incur the wrath of the Unseen Powers. No wavering! We have gone too
far to recede! First, to establish the electric current between us, you
must hold me firmly by the wrist and pass your hand slowly up and down
my arm, repeating these words after me."

I hesitated. The proceeding struck me as extraordinary.

"Will you imperil us both?" muttered Irene, in such a tone of agony that
I seized her arm and began to rub for my life. I remember noticing that
it was as cold and white as the arm of a marble statue. Meanwhile Irene
repeated an invocation, apparently in the same language in which she had
addressed me at our first meeting, and I imitated her to the best of my
ability.

After this had been going on a few minutes, she inquired in a w