The young officer went close to her and looked searchingly into her eyes.

"Think what you are saying," he begged. "Remember what this means.

Remember that--"

She cut in viciously: "You shut up! I have no more use for you. I tell you it's true."

"Don't believe her, doctor," interposed Seraphine: "She is not responsible for what she says."

"I am responsible. I know exactly what I am saying."

"It is not true, sir," put in Captain Herrick. "May I add that--"

"Wait! Why are you confessing this, Mrs. Wells?"

Like a fury Fauvette glared at Christopher.

"Because he turned me down. I'm sore on him. He's not on the level."

"Not on the level? Are you speaking of him as a lover or an officer?"

"Both ways. He's not on the level at all."

"Oh, Penelope!" grieved the heartbroken lover.

She eyed him scornfully. "You needn't Penelope me! I said I have no use for you. A Sunday school sweetheart! Ha! I'll tell you something else, doctor, I'm not the only one who knows about your X K C stuff."

"Mrs. Wells," Dr. Owen spoke slowly, "are you deliberately accusing Captain Herrick of disloyalty?"

"Yes, I am."

Herrick stiffened under this insult, white-faced, but he did not speak.

"He meant to sell this information--for money," she added.

"My G.o.d!" breathed Christopher.

"Captain Herrick told you this?"

"Yes, he did. He said we would go abroad and live together--like millionaires. You did! You know d.a.m.ned well you did," she almost screamed the words at Herrick, then she sank back on the divan exhausted, and lay still, her eyes closed.

The doctor's face was ominously set as he turned to his young friend.

"Chris, my boy, I need not tell you that I cannot believe this monstrous accusation. At the same time, I saw Mrs. Wells write down those letters that are only known to you and to me. I saw that with my own eyes--you saw it, too."

"Yes, sir."

"And you heard what she said?"

"Yes, sir."

"Under the circ.u.mstances, as your superior officer, I don't see how I have any choice except to--"

Here Mrs. Walters interrupted: "May I speak? It is still possible to avert a great disaster."

The doctor shook his head. "You have heard Mrs. Wells' confession. No power on earth can prevent an investigation of this," he declared with military finality.

Seraphine's lips moved in silent prayer. Her face was transfigured as her eyes fell tenderly upon the white-faced, tortured sleeper.

"No power on earth, but--G.o.d can prevent it," she murmured and moved nearer to Penelope whose face was convulsed as if by a terrifying dream.

Then, with hands extended over the beautiful figure, the psychic prayed aloud, while Herrick and the doctor, caught by the power of her faith, looked on in wondering silence.

_"G.o.d of love, let Thine infinite power descend upon this Thy tortured child and drive out all evil and wickedness from her. Open the eyes of these men so that they may understand and be merciful. Oh, G.o.d, grant us a sign! Let Thy light descend upon us."_

Captain Herrick has always maintained that at this moment, as he watched his beloved, his heart clutched with horrible forebodings, he distinctly _saw_ (Dr. Owen did not see this) a faint stream of bluish radiance playing over her from the direction of Seraphine, and enveloping her. It is certain that Penelope's face immediately became peaceful and the convulsive twitchings that had shaken her body ceased.

"Look!" marvelled Christopher. "She is smiling in her sleep."

Seraphine turned to Dr. Owen, with radiant countenance.

"It is G.o.d's sign. Come! Penelope will awaken soon and must find herself alone with her lover. It will be the real Penelope. You will see. Let us draw back into the shadows. You stay near her," she motioned to Herrick, then turned down the lights except a yellow-shaded lamp near the sleeper.

And, presently, watching with breathless interest, these three saw Penelope stir naturally and open her eyes.

"Why, how strange!" she exclaimed. "I must have gone to sleep. Why did you let me go to sleep, Chris?" she questioned her lover, with bright, happy eyes in which there was no trace of her recent perturbations of spirit.

"It's all right, Pen," he said rea.s.suringly. "You were a little--a little faint, I guess."

She held out her hand lovingly and beckoned him to her side.

"Sit by me here. I had such a horrible dream. I'm so glad to see you, dear. I'm so glad to be awake. Oh!" She started up in embarra.s.sment as she saw that her dress was disarranged. "What's the matter with my dress? What did I do? What has happened? Tell me. You must tell me," she begged in confusion.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he soothed her. "It was the excitement of all that talk--that a.s.s of a poet."

Penelope pa.s.sed her hand over her eyes in a troubled effort to remember.

It was pathetic to see her groping backwards through a daze of confused impressions. The last clear thing in her mind was exchanging rings with her lover. How long had they been here? What time was it? What must Roberta think of them, staying up in her apartment all alone?

Christopher a.s.sured her that what Roberta thought (she and her gay friends were still dancing downstairs) was the very least of his preoccupations, and he was planning to turn his sweetheart's thoughts into a different channel when Seraphine came forward out of the shadows followed by Dr. Owen.

"Why, Seraphine!" exclaimed Penelope in astonishment. "Where did you come from? And Dr. Owen?"

Seraphine greeted her friend lovingly and kissed her, but there was unconcealed anxiety in her voice and manner.

"Dear child, something very serious has happened. You were ill and--Dr.

Owen came to help you. He wants to ask you some questions."

"Yes?" replied Penelope, her face paling.

Then the doctor, with scarcely any prelude and with almost brutal directness, said: "Mrs. Wells, I want you to tell me why you accused Captain Herrick of disloyalty."