"A letter would not have found me," she answered. "When I pa.s.s from sight of my friends I pa.s.s beyond reach of their messages."

I drew forth a footstool for her, and noting how wild and strange was her manner, seated myself near her. The thought that she was insane came upon me, but I set aside such an idea as ridiculous. She was as sane as myself. There was nevertheless in her appearance an indescribable mysteriousness. She bore no resemblance to any other woman, so frail were her limbs, so thin and fine her features, so graceful all her movements. No illness could have imparted to her face that curious Sphinx-like look which it a.s.sumed when her countenance was not relaxed in conversing with me.

And her eyes. They were not the eyes of a person suffering from insanity. They possessed a bewitching fascination which was not human.

Nay, it was Satanic.

I shuddered, as I always did when she were present. The touch of that slim hand covered by its neat, black glove was fatal. This visitor of mine was the Daughter of Evil; the woman of whom Muriel's lover had said, that the people of London would, if they knew the mysterious truth, rend her limb from limb!

She put up her flimsy veil and raised a tiny lace handkerchief to her face. From it was diffused a perfume of lilies--those flowers the odour of which is so essentially the scent of the death-chamber.

"Well?" she asked at last, in that curious, far-distant voice, which sounded so musical, yet so unusual. "And your love? Did you discover her, as I had said?"

"I did," I answered in sorrow. "But it is useless. Another has s.n.a.t.c.hed her from me."

She knit her brows, regarding me with quick, genuine astonishment.

"Has she forgotten you?"

"Yes," I answered in despair. "My dream of felicity is over. She has cast me aside in favour of one who cannot love her as I have done."

"But she loves you!" my monitress exclaimed.

"All that is of the past," I replied. "She is now infatuated with this man who has recently come into her life. In this world of London she, calm, patient, trusting in the religious truth taught at her mother's knee, was as my beacon, guiding me upon the upward path which, alas! is so very hard to keep aright. But all is over, and," I added with a sigh, "the sun of my happiness has gone down ere I have reached the meridian of life."

"But what have you done to cause her to doubt you?" she asked in a voice more kindly than ever before.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" I declared. "We have been friends through years, and knowing how pure, how honest, how upright she is, I am ready at this moment to make her my wife."

"Remember," she said, warningly, "you have position, while she is a mere shop-a.s.sistant, to whom your friends would probably take exception."

"It matters not," I exclaimed vehemently. "I love her. Is not that quite sufficient?"

"Quite!" she said. Then a silence fell between us.

Suddenly she looked up and inquired whether I knew this man who was now her lover.

"Only by sight," I answered. "I have no faith in him."

"Why?" she inquired eagerly.

"Because his face shows him to be cold and crafty, designing and relentless," I answered, recollecting how this woman now before me had once walked with him in the Park, and the curious influence he had apparently held over her.

She smiled bitterly, and her eyes for a moment flashed. I saw in them a glance of hatred.

"And you still love Muriel?" she inquired quite calmly, repressing in an instant the secret thoughts which were within her, whatever they might have been.

"I still love her," I admitted. "She is my life, my soul."

She hesitated, undecided whether to proceed. She was wavering. At length, with sudden resolve, she asked--

"And you still have confidence in me?"

"In what way?" I inquired, rather surprised.

"That I possess a power unknown to others," she answered, bending to me and speaking in a hoa.r.s.e half-whisper. "That the power of evil is irresistible!"

"Certainly!" I answered, glaring at her, so strangely transformed her face appeared. That glitter of hate was again in her eyes, which had fixed themselves upon me, causing me to quiver beneath their deadly gaze.

"You believe what I have already confessed to you, here, in this room?"

she went on. "You believe that I can work evil at will--an evil which is overwhelming?"

"Already I have had optical ill.u.s.tration of your extraordinary powers,"

I answered, dumbfounded, drawing back with a feeling something akin to terror. "No doubt whatever remains now in my mind. I believe, Aline, that within your human shape there dwells the Spirit of Evil, its hideousness hidden from the world beneath the beauty of your form and face."

"Then if you thus believe in me," she murmured, in a soft, crooning voice, as one speaking to a wayward child; "if you thus place your trust implicitly in me, I will give you further proof of my power, I will fulfil the compact made between us. Muriel shall love you?"

"And you will use your influence to secure my happiness?" I cried, jumping up enthusiastically.

"I will cause her to return to you," the strange woman answered. "The affection she entertains for this man shall wane and fade ere another day has pa.s.sed. At my will she will hate him, and again love you."

"Truly, I believe your power to be irresistible," I observed with bowed head.

It was on my tongue to confess how I had watched her walking on that night in Hyde Park with the man whom Muriel loved, but fearing she might be wrathful that I had acted as eavesdropper, I held my secret.

She smiled with an air of gratification at my words.

"Keep faith with me," she answered, "and you shall ere long be afforded ill.u.s.tration of a volition which will amaze you. The Empire of Evil is great, and its ruler is absolute."

If she could direct the destinies of Muriel at will, compel her to abandon this man with whom she was infatuated, and cause her to return to me repentant, then that, indeed, would be proof conclusive that she were something more than human. I had implored of Muriel to give me hope, and had used upon her all the persuasive power at my command to induce her to think more kindly of me, yet without avail. An influence which would cause her to return to my side must be irresistible, and therefore an exercise of the all-ruling power of evil.

"And when may I expect her to relinquish this man?" I inquired eagerly.

She rose slowly, a strange, rather tragic-looking figure, so slim, pale-faced and fragile that she seemed almost as one from whom the flush of life had faded. Her brows contracted, her thin lips twitched, and the magnificent marquise ring of turquoises and diamonds upon her ungloved hand seemed to glitter with an iridescence that was dazzling.

She raised her hand with an imperious gesture, describing a semicircle, while I stood aghast watching her.

"I have commanded!" she said a moment later, in that curious far-off tone. "At this instant the change is effected. She no longer loves that man who came between you!"

"And she loves me?" I cried, incredible that she could at will effect such changes in the affections of any person. Truly her power was demoniacal.

"Yes," she answered. "She will be penitent."

"And she will come to me?"

"Wait in patience," the mysterious woman answered. "You must allow time for the thoughts of regret now arising within her to mature. When they have done so, then will she seek your forgiveness."

"Why have you done me this service, Aline?" I asked, utterly mystified.

"It is a service which I can never repay."