e letter, save
its conclusion. It was simply an invitation to a public meeting of the
Society, which was to be held on that day week in the hall in Hanover
Square, and the special feature in the letter--seeing that it did not
vanish like the telegram, but remained an ordinary sheet of paper--lay
in its concluding sentence. This urged me to allow nothing to prevent my
attendance. "You will perhaps understand thereafter that we are neither
political plotters nor lunatics, as you have thought."

Thought! The man's mysterious power was becoming wearisome. It was too
much for me. I wished that I had never seen his face.

As I lay sleepless in my bed, I recommenced that interminable
introspection which, heretofore, had been so barren of result. It was
easy to swear to myself that I would stand by Natalie Brande, that I
would never desert her. But how should my action be directed in order
that by its conduct I might prevail upon the girl herself to surrender
her evil associates? I knew that she regarded me with affection. And I
knew also that she would not leave her brother for my sake. Did she
sympathise with his nefarious schemes, or was she decoyed into them like
myself?

Decoyed! That was it!

I sprang from the bed, beside myself with delight. Now I had not merely
a loophole of escape from all these miseries; I had a royal highway.
Fool, idiot, blind mole that I was, not to perceive sooner that easy
solution of the problem! No wonder that she was wounded by my unworthy
doubts. And she had tried to explain, but I would not listen! I threw
myself back and commenced to weave all manner of pleasant fancies round
the salvation of this girl from her brother's baneful influence, and the
annihilation of his Society, despite its occult powers, by mine own
valour. The reaction was too great. Instead of constructing marvellous
counterplots, I fell sound asleep.

Next day I found Natalie in a pleasant morning-room to which I was
directed. She wore her most extreme--and, in consequence, most
exasperating--rational costume. When I entered the room she pushed a
chair towards me, in a way that suggested Miss Metford's worst manner,
and lit a cigarette, for the express purpose, I felt, of annoying me.

"I have come," I said somewhat shamefacedly, "to explain."

"And apologise?"

"Yes, to apologise. I made a hideous mistake. I have suffered for it as
much as you could wish."

"Wish you to suffer!" She flung away her cigarette. He