"Whom do you mean? Your visitor?"

"Yes," she responded eagerly.

"We have no idea," I replied. "You have been taken ill, and my friend here. Doctor Hoefer, has been attending you."

"How do you feel?" the old German asked in his brusque manner.

"I am very thirsty," she answered.

He took the decanter, and, mixing a little brandy and water, gave it to her.

Then just at that moment her ladyship re-entered, and, falling on her knees, clasped her cousin around the neck and shed wild tears of joy.

Liquid beef and other restoratives having been administered, the woman whose appearance had been identical in every respect with that of the dead was, ere long, able to sit up and talk with us. Her recovery had been almost as rapid as her attack.

We questioned her regarding her symptoms, and found them exactly similar to those we had ourselves experienced.

"I felt as though my whole body were frozen stiff and rigid," she explained. "At first I heard a strange voice about me--the voice of Doctor Colkirk, I suppose it must have been--speaking with Nora; but I was unable to make any sign. It was just as though I were in a kind of trance, yet half-conscious of things about me. My muscles were paralysed, and I knew that you believed me to be dead. The one horrible thought that possessed me was that I might, perhaps, be buried alive."

"But you were not conscious the whole time?" Hoefer asked.

"No; I think I slept during the latter part of the seizure. How long have I been lying here?"

"About two hours and a half," answered her cousin. "Do you feel able to talk any more now?" I inquired.

"I feel much better," she responded. "The draught that your friend has given me has had a wonderful effect. I'm quite restored." And she rose to her feet and stood before us, little the worse for her experience, save, perhaps, that the dark rings about her beautiful eyes showed that her system had received a terrible shock.

"We want you to relate to us in detail what occurred when you entered the morning-room to see the woman who called upon you."

She glanced inquiringly at her cousin, as though to obtain her permission to speak.

"Nothing occurred," she answered; "she was sitting there awaiting me."

"She had sent in a message, and you thought it--as your dressmaker, did you not?"

"Yes. And I was very much surprised to find that it was not."

"Was it some other person whom you knew?"

"I had never seen her before," answered the woman who was my wedded wife. "She was tall, thin and dressed in black which seemed much the worse for wear."

"Dark or fair?"

"Dark. But I could not see her features well because of her thick black veil."

"She was young, I suppose?"

"Not very, I think. Her voice was low and rather refined."

"And how did she explain her reason for sending in a message that she was your dressmaker? She must have been aware that you expected the woman to call on you."

"She explained that the ruse was necessary, as she did not wish her visit to be known, either to my cousin or to the servants."

"Why?"

"Because she had brought me a message."

"A message?" I exclaimed. "From whom?"

"A verbal message from--from a friend."

"And may we not know the name of that friend?" I asked. "There is a most remarkable mystery connected with that room into which she was shown, and, in order to solve the problem, we must be in possession of the whole truth."

"What mystery?" Beryl inquired quickly, opening her eyes widely.

"Any person who enters is, on leaving, attacked just as you were. Your cousin here, Doctor Hoefer, and myself, had all three experienced exactly similar symptoms."

"That's most extraordinary!" she declared, in an incredulous tone.

"When I was seized it was not until I had left the room. I went out with the object of obtaining a sheet of note-paper from the library in order to write a reply to the message, but on emerging into the hall I was suddenly seized, and returned to the morning-room at once. I stood holding on to the table; but my limbs failed me, and I fell to the ground."

"And then the woman who had called upon you slipped along the hall and out into the street."

"I suppose she must have done, for I did not see her again. I tried to call out, but could not. The electric light was suddenly switched off.

She must have done that on her way out."

"Cannot you tell us either of the nature of the message or from whom it came?" I asked earnestly.

She was silent for a moment, glancing at her cousin. "No," she answered; "I am unable to do that."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE CHILL HAND.

Was the message from her lover or from that villain Tattersett?

Her refusal piqued me, and I was half inclined to suggest that it was from the one or the other. Still, in this marvellous maze of mystery, I saw that it was not at all a judicious proceeding to show my hand. What I already knew was of value to me in my efforts to piece together this bewildering puzzle.

The more I reflected the more convinced I became that the visitor in black was none other than the dreaded woman whose threatened vengeance was known to be imminent--La Gioia the mysterious.

"The visitor did not touch you?" I asked. "Neither did she give you any note?"

"No; the message was verbal. I went once to the library and obtained a sheet of note-paper, but on returning found it to be soiled. Therefore I went out again to get a second, sheet, and it was then that I felt a sudden grip, just as though an icy breath had touched me. In an instant I went cold all over, and my limbs became so benumbed that I could not feel them."

"You did not suspect this woman of producing this effect upon you?"

Hoefer asked, grunting dubiously.

"Certainly not. How could she?"

"But her actions afterwards, in switching off the light and stealing out, were suspicious."