get there if I
can keep out, because that would be the way to lose my prize. But I
suppose from your point of view the great thing is for your two dearest
friends to be happy ever after."

"Not at a terrible cost to you," I just stopped myself from saying.
Instead, I hedged: "You frighten me!" I cried. "And you make me
curious--_fearfully_ curious. What _can_ you be meaning to do?"

"That's my business!" said Jim.

"You've got a plan--already?"

"Yes, I've got a plan--already, if----"

"If what?"

"If you agree to the bargain. Do you?"

I nodded.

He seized my hand and squeezed it hard.

"Then I'm off," he said. "You won't hear from me till I have news, good
or bad. And meanwhile I have no address."

With that he was gone.

I felt as if he had left me alone in the dark.

CHAPTER VI

THE LAST SEANCE

The only way in which I could keep Joyce with me for a little while
longer was by pretending to be ill. _That_ fetched her. And it wasn't
all pretense, either, because I was horribly worried, not only about her
and Robert, but about Jim. And about myself.

I said not a word to Joyce of Jim and his mission. So far as she knew
I'd abandoned hope--as she had. We heard nothing from Robert, or
concerning him, and each day that built itself up was a gloomier _cul de
sac_ than the last.

Bye and bye there came the end of Miss Reardon's fortnight in London.
"Now Robert will be turned over to Opal," I groaned to myself. And I was
sure that the same thought was in the mind of Joyce. Just one or two
days more, and after that a long monotony of bondage for him, year in
and year out!

As I waked in the morning with these words on my lips, Joyce herself
knocked, playing nurse, with a tray of coffee and toast.

"I would have let you sleep on," she said, "but a note has come by
messenger for you, with 'Urgent' on the envelope in such a nice
handwriting I felt you'd want to have it. So I brought your breakfast at
the same time."

The nice handwriting was Jim's. He had vowed not to write till there was
"news, good or bad." My fingers trembled as I tore open the letter. I
read:

Make Lorillard invite you and Miss Arnold _and your fiance_ to a
seance before Miss Reardon goes. It will have to be to-day or
to-morrow. Don't take "no" for an answer. Manage it somehow. If you
insist, Lorillard will force Reardon to consent. When the stunt's
fixed up, let me hear at once.

Yours, J