r the impression that I handed the card
to her. I did not do so. Miss Hohsmann, as well as myself, has been
victimised by this common enemy, so that"--he smiled dryly--"we cannot
suspect her, and you cannot suspect me, of complicity. Was there any
servant in the room at the time?"

A brief inquiry served to show that there had been no servant on that
side of the room at the time.

"Did you pick it up from the table, dear," cried Mrs. Hohsmann, "or
actually take it from--someone's hand?"

Amid a tense silence the girl replied:

"From--someone's hand!"

CHAPTER VI

THE SHADOW OF SEVERAC BABLON

The mystery of personality is one which eludes research along the most
scientific lines. It is a species of animal magnetism as yet
unclassified. Personality is not confined to the individual: it clings
to his picture, his garments, his writing; it has the persistency of a
civet perfume.

From this slip of cardboard lying upon Rohscheimer's famous oval table
emanated rays--unseen, but cogent. The magnetic words "Severac Bablon"
seemed to glow upon the walls, as of old those other words had glowed
upon a Babylonian wall.

There were those present to whom the line "Who steals my purse steals
trash" appealed, as the silliest ever written. And it was at the purses
of these that the blow would be struck--_id est_, at the most vital and
fonder part of their beings.

"That card"--Julius Rohscheimer moistened his lips--"can't have dropped
from the ceiling!"

But he looked upward as he spoke; and it was evident that he credited
Severac Bablon with the powers of an Indian fakir.

"It would appear," said Antony Elschild, "that a phantom hand appeared
in our midst!"

The incident was eerie; a thousand times more so in that it was
associated with Severac Bablon. Rohscheimer gave orders that the outer
door was on no account to be opened, until the house had been thoroughly
searched. He himself headed the search party--whilst Mrs. Rohscheimer
remained with the guests.

All search proving futile, Rohscheimer returned and learnt that a new
discovery had been made. He was met outside the dining-room door by
Baron Hague.

"Rohscheimer!" cried the latter, "my name on that card, it is underlined
in red ink!"

Rohscheimer's rejoinder was dramatic.

"The diamonds!" he whispered.

Indeed, this latest discovery was significant. Baron Hague had brought
with him, for Rohscheimer's examination, a packet of rough diamonds.
Ro