fortnight before I had received a letter from Jack Yelverton, sayingthat he had resigned the curacy of Duddington, and was about to returnat once to St Peter's, Walworth, he having been appointed vicar of theparish. I replied congratulating him, and expressing a hope that hewould call as soon as he returned to town. But I had seen nothing ofhim. Had the offer of a good living proved too tempting to him, Iwondered; or had he resolved to abandon the curious theory he heldregarding marriage? I was intensely anxious to ascertain the truth.
Since that afternoon when I had met Aline at Ludgate Circus and beeninduced to relinquish myself into her hands, I had seen nothing of her.She had refused me her address, and had not called. Yet, strange torelate, I had experienced some delusions unaccountable, for once ortwice there seemed conjured in my vision vague scenes of terror andhideousness which held me in a kind of indefinite fear which was utterlyindescribable. To attribute these experiences to Aline's influence was,of course, impossible. Yet the strangest fact was that in such momentsthere invariably arose, side by side with the woman I loved, thecountenance of the woman of mystery distorted by hate until itshideousness appalled me.
I attributed these experiences to the disordered state of my mind andthe constant tension consequent upon Muriel's waywardness; nevertheless,so remarkable were the powers possessed by Aline that I admit wonderingwhether the distressing visions which arose before me so vividly as tobecome almost hallucinations were actually due to the influence shepossessed over me.
I am no believer in the so-called mesmeric power, in hypnotism, or anyof the quack influences by which charlatans seek to impose upon thepublic, therefore I philosophically attributed the visions to severemental strain; for I had read somewhere that such hallucinations werevery often precursory of madness.
Fully a month passed, from the night when I had vainly implored Murielto give me hope, until late one afternoon Simes ushered in Aline.
So changed was she that I rose and regarded her with speechlessastonishment. Her face was thin and drawn, her cheeks hollow, hereyebrows twitching and nervous, while her clear, blue eyes themselvesseemed to have lost all the brightness and cheerful light which hadgiven such animation to her face. She was dressed in deep black, andwore no jewellery except a golden bracelet shaped as a snake, thesombreness of her costume heightening the deathlike refinement andpallor of her countenance.
As she stepped across to me quickly, and held out her gloved hand, Iexclaimed concernedly--
"Why, what has occurred?"
"I have been ill," she answered vaguely, and she sank into a chair andplaced her hand to her heart, panting for the exertion of walking hadbeen too great for her.
"I'm exceedingly sorry," I replied. "I've been expecting you forseveral weeks. Why did you not leave your address with me last time?"
"A letter would not have found me," she answered. "When I pass fromsight of my friends I pass beyond reach of their messages."
I drew forth a footstool for her, and noting how wild and strange washer manner, seated myself near her. The thought that she was insanecame upon me, but I set aside such an idea as ridiculous. She was assane as myself. There was nevertheless in her appearance anindescribable mysteriousness. She bore no resemblance to any otherwoman, so frail were her limbs, so thin and fine her features, sograceful all her movements. No illness could have imparted to her facethat curious Sphinx-like look which it assumed when her countenance wasnot relaxed in conversing with me.
And her eyes. They were not the eyes of a person suffering frominsanity. 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 thatslim hand covered by its neat, black glove was fatal. This visitor ofmine was the Daughter of Evil; the woman of whom Muriel's lover hadsaid, that the people of London would, if they knew the mysterioustruth, rend her limb from limb!
She put up her flimsy veil and raised a tiny lace handkerchief to herface. From it was diffused a perfume of lilies--those flowers the odourof which is so essentially the scent of the death-chamber.
"Well?" she asked at last, in that curious, far-distant voice, whichsounded so musical, yet so unusual. "And your love? Did you discoverher, as I had said?"
"I did," I answered in sorrow. "But it is useless. Another hassnatched 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 hascast 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 thisman who has recently come into her life. In this world of London she,calm, patient, trusting in the religious truth taught at her mother'sknee, was as my beacon, guiding me upon the upward path which, alas! isso very hard to keep aright. But all is over, and," I added with asigh, "the sun of my happiness has gone down ere I have reached themeridian of life."
"But what have you done to cause her to doubt you?" she asked in a voicemore kindly than ever before.
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" I declared. "We have been friendsthrough years, and knowing how pure, how honest, how upright she is, Iam ready at this moment to make her my wife."
"Remember," she said, warningly, "you have position, while she is a mereshop-assistant, to whom your friends would probably take exception."
"It matters not," I exclaimed vehemently. "I love her. Is not thatquite sufficient?"
"Quite!" she said. Then a silence fell between us.
Suddenly she looked up and inquired whether I knew this man who was nowher 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 andrelentless," I answered, recollecting how this woman now before me hadonce walked with him in the Park, and the curious influence he hadapparently held over her.
She smiled bitterly, and her eyes for a moment flashed. I saw in them aglance of hatred.
"And you still love Muriel?" she inquired quite calmly, repressing in aninstant the secret thoughts which were within her, whatever they mighthave been.
"I still love her," I admitted. "She is my life, my soul."
She hesitated, undecided whether to proceed. She was wavering. Atlength, 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 meand speaking in a hoarse half-whisper. "That the power of evil isirresistible!"
"Certainly!" I answered, glaring at her, so strangely transformed herface appeared. That glitter of hate was again in her eyes, which hadfixed themselves upon me, causing me to quiver beneath their deadlygaze.
"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 whichis overwhelming?"
"Already I have had optical illustration of your extraordinary powers,"I answered, dumbfounded, drawing back with a feeling something akin toterror. "No doubt whatever remains now in my mind. I believe, Aline,that within your human shape there dwells the Spirit of Evil, itshideousness hidden from the world beneath the beauty of your form andface."
"Then if you thus believe in me," she murmured, in a soft, crooningvoice, as one speaking to a wayward child; "if you thus place your trustimplicitly in me, I will give you further proof of my power, I willfulfil 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. "Theaffection she entertains for this man shall wane and fade ere anotherday has passed. At my will she will hate him, and again l
ove you."
"Truly, I believe your power to be irresistible," I observed with bowedhead.
It was on my tongue to confess how I had watched her walking on thatnight in Hyde Park with the man whom Muriel loved, but fearing she mightbe 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 affordedillustration of a volition which will amaze you. The Empire of Evil isgreat, and its ruler is absolute."
If she could direct the destinies of Muriel at will, compel her toabandon this man with whom she was infatuated, and cause her to returnto me