of trouble by the
fretting and spirited manner in which they pawed the stones and
pranced. Before descending the steps I shook hands with Heliobas, and
thanked him for the pleasant evening I had passed.

"We will try to make all your time with us pass as pleasantly," he
returned. "Good-night! What, Ivan," as he perceived the Prince attiring
himself in his great-coat and hat, "are you also going?"

"Yes, I am off," he replied, with a kind of forced gaiety; "I am bad
company for anyone to-night, and I won't inflict myself upon you,
Casimir. Au revoir! I will put mademoiselle into the carriage if she
will permit me."

We went down the steps together, Heliobas watching us from the open
door. As the Prince assisted me into the brougham, he whispered:

"Are you one of them!"

I looked at him in bewilderment.

"One of them!" I repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind," he muttered impatiently, as he made a pretence of
covering me with the fur rugs inside the carriage: "if you are not now,
you will be, or Zara would not have kissed you. If you ever have the
chance ask her to think of me at my best. Good-night."

I was touched and a little sorry for him. I held out my hand in
silence. He pressed it hard, and calling to the coachman, "36, Avenue
du Midi," stood on the pavement bareheaded, looking singularly pale and
grave in the starlight, as the carriage rolled swiftly away, and the
door of the Hotel Mars closed.

CHAPTER VIII.

A SYMPHONY IN THE AIR.

Within a very short time I became a temporary resident in the house of
Heliobas, and felt myself to be perfectly at home there. I had
explained to Madame Denise the cause of my leaving her comfortable
Pension, and she had fully approved of my being under a physician's
personal care in order to ensure rapid recovery; but when she heard the
name of that physician, which I gave (in accordance with Zara's
instructions) as Dr. Casimir, she held up her fat hands in dismay.

"Oh, mademoiselle," she exclaimed, "have you not dread of that terrible
man? Is it not he that is reported to be a cruel mesmerist who
sacrifices everybody--yes, even his own sister, to his medical
experiments? Ah, mon Dieu! it makes me to shudder!"

And she shuddered directly, as a proof of her veracity. I was amused. I
saw in her an example of the common multitude, who are more ready to
believe in vulgar spirit-rapping and mesmerism than to accept an
established scientific fact.

"Do yo