now to an undertaking from which there was no retreat. He
half expected that the maid, whose disjointed outburst betokened, at
least, that she was her mistress's trusted confidante, would reappear
from the room into which she had vanished. But he was mistaken, doubly
mistaken, since the mental picture he had formed of Hermione Beauregard
Grandison was utterly falsified by the slight, elegant, girlish figure
which presented itself before his astonished eyes. Somehow, those
superfine Christian names and that aristocratic surname had prepared
him for a rather magnificent person, young, probably, because the dead
man might be of his own age within a year, but decidedly impressive.
He had gone so far as to imagine her an actress, of the sinuous,
well-rounded type, who would address him in a deep contralto, and, if
and when she fainted, would sink gracefully on to a couch correctly
placed for scenic effect.

The reality took his breath away.

He saw a girl, not a day older than twenty, dressed in a simple costume
of brown cloth, and wearing a hat, veil, and gloves of harmonizing
tints. The veil had been hurriedly lifted above the brim of the hat,
and a pair of what seemed to be intensely dark violet eyes gazed at him
from a small-featured, pallid face from which every vestige of color
had fled.

"Is this thing true?" she said, halting timidly within a few feet of
him. "Perhaps Marcelle has misunderstood you. Who sent you?--Monsieur
de Courtois himself, I suppose?"

Her voice, so wistful, so pleading, perfect in cadence yet almost
childlike in its evident anxiety to be reassured, reached uncharted
depths in his soul. At once he began to ask himself why this mere girl
should be exposed to the impish trick which fate had played on her,
and, in the same breath, he was conscious of a fierce anger against the
ghouls who had contrived it.

"Are you Miss Grandison?" he asked, rather to gain time than because of
any doubt as to her personality.

"Yes. And you?"

"My name is Curtis--John D. Curtis. I only landed in New York three
hours ago."

He added the explanatory sentence in order to clear the ground, as it
were, for the strange and horrible story he had to tell, but its effect
was curious in the extreme. The girl's white face blanched to that wan
hue which personal fear lends to distress.

"Where have you come from?" she gasped.

"From Pekin."

"From Pekin!"

"Yes. I have been traveling without pause d