r that fell upon my hand as it lay across my mother's
lap. Since the day when father left us I had never seen her weep.
Was it for my deceit? I looked up again and saw that her eyes were
brimming with sorrow. My fears and doubts were forgotten. I would
speak and tell her all my tale.

"Mother."

Somewhat ashamed at being discovered, she dried her eyes and tried to
smile--a poor pitiful smile, with the veriest ghost of joy in it.

"Yes, Jasper."

"Is Apollyon still alive?"

"He stands for the powers of evil, Jasper, and they are always
alive."

"But, I mean, does he walk about the world like a man? Is he
_really_ alive?"

"Why, no, Jasper. What nonsense has got into your head now?"

"Because, mother, I met him to-day. That is, he said he was
Apollyon, and that he would come and carry me off if--"

Half apprehensive at my boldness, I cast an anxious look around as I
spoke. Nothing met my eyes but the familiar furniture and the
dancing shadows on the wall, until their gaze fell upon the window,
and rested there, whilst my heart grew suddenly stiff with terror,
and my tongue clave to my mouth.

As my voice broke off suddenly, mother glanced at me in expectation.
Seeing my fixed stare and dropped jaw, she too looked at the window,
then started to her feet with a shriek.

For there, looking in upon us with a wicked smile, was the white face
of the sailor Rhodojani.

For a second or two, petrified with horror, we stood staring at it.
The evil smile flickered for a moment, baring the white teeth and
lighting the depths of those wolfish eyes; then, with a fiendish
laugh, vanished in the darkness.

He had, then, told the truth when he promised to haunt me.
Beyond the shock of mortal terror, I was but little amazed.
It seemed but natural that he should come as he had threatened.
Only I was filled with awful expectation of his vengeance, and stood
aghast at the consequences of my rashness. By instinct I turned to
my mother for protection.

But what ailed her? She had fallen back in her chair and was still
staring with parted lips at the dark pane that a minute ago had
framed the horrid countenance. When at last she spoke, her words
were wild and meaningless, with a dreadful mockery of laughter that
sent a swift pang of apprehension to my heart.

"Mother, it is gone. What is the matter?"

Again a few meaningless syllables and that awful laugh.

And so throughout that second awful night did she mut