I read over my notes of what the woman said when shespoke about her powers. There is one point which fillsme with dismay. She implies that when the influence isslight the subject knows what he is doing, but cannotcontrol himself, whereas when it is strongly exerted heis absolutely unconscious. Now, I have always knownwhat I did, though less so last night than on theprevious occasions. That seems to mean that she hasnever yet exerted her full powers upon me. Was ever aman so placed before?

Yes, perhaps there was, and very near me, too. CharlesSadler must know something of this! His vague words ofwarning take a meaning now. Oh, if I had only listenedto him then, before I helped by these repeated sittingsto forge the links of the chain which binds me! But Iwill see him to-day. I will apologize to him forhaving treated his warning so lightly. I will see ifhe can advise me.

4 P. M. No, he cannot. I have talked with him, and heshowed such surprise at the first words in which Itried to express my unspeakable secret that I went nofurther. As far as I can gather (by hints andinferences rather than by any statement), his ownexperience was limited to some words or looks such as Ihave myself endured. His abandonment of Miss Penclosais in itself a sign that he was never really in hertoils. Oh, if he only knew his escape! He has tothank his phlegmatic Saxon temperament for it. I amblack and Celtic, and this hag's clutch is deep in mynerves. Shall I ever get it out? Shall I ever be thesame man that I was just one short fortnight ago?

Let me consider what I had better do. I cannot leavethe university in the middle of the term. If I werefree, my course would be obvious. I should start atonce and travel in Persia. But would she allow me tostart? And could her influence not reach me in Persia,and bring me back to within touch of her crutch? I canonly find out the limits of this hellish power by myown bitter experience. I will fight and fight andfight--and what can I do more?

I know very well that about eight o'clock to-night thatcraving for her society, that irresistiblerestlessness, will come upon me. How shall I overcomeit? What shall I do? I must make it impossible for meto leave the room. I shall lock the door and throw thekey out of the window. But, then, what am I to do inthe morning? Never mind about the morning. I must atall costs break this chain which holds me.

April 9. Victory! I have done splendidly! At seveno'clock last night I took a hasty dinner, and thenlocked myself up in my bedroom and dropped the key intothe garden. I chose a cheery novel, and lay in bed forthree hours trying to read it, but really in a horriblestate of trepidation, expecting every instant that Ishould become conscious of the impulse. Nothing of thesort occurred, however, and I awoke this morning withthe feeling that a black nightmare had been lifted offme. Perhaps the creature realized what I had done, andunderstood that it was useless to try to influence me. At any rate, I have beaten her once, and if I can do itonce, I can do it again.

It was most awkward about the key in the morning. Luckily, there was an under-gardener below, and I askedhim to throw it up. No doubt he thought I had justdropped it. I will have doors and windows screwed upand six stout men to hold me down in my bed before Iwill surrender myself to be hag-ridden in this way.

I had a note from Mrs. Marden this afternoon asking meto go round and see her. I intended to do so in anycase, but had not excepted to find bad news waiting forme. It seems that the Armstrongs, from whom Agatha hasexpectations, are due home from Adelaide in the Aurora,and that they have written to Mrs. Marden and her tomeet them in town. They will probably be away for amonth or six weeks, and, as the Aurora is due onWednesday, they must go at once--to-morrow, if they areready in time. My consolation is that when we meetagain there will be no more parting between Agatha andme.

"I want you to do one thing, Agatha," said I, when wewere alone together. "If you should happen to meetMiss Penclosa, either in town or here, you must promiseme never again to allow her to mesmerize you."

Agatha opened her eyes.

"Why, it was only the other day that you were sayinghow interesting it all was, and how determined you wereto finish your experiments."

"I know, but I have changed my mind since then."

"And you won't have it any more?"

"No."

"I am so glad, Austin. You can't think how pale andworn you have been lately. It was really our principalobjection to going to London now that we did not wishto leave you when you were so pulled down. And yourmanner has been so strange occasionally--especiallythat night when you left poor Professor Pratt-Haldaneto play dummy. I am convinced that these experimentsare very bad for your nerves."

"I think so, too, dear."

"And for Miss Penclosa's nerves as well. You haveheard that she is ill?"

"No."

"Mrs. Wilson told us so last night. She described itas a nervous fever Professor Wilson is coming back thisweek, and of course Mrs. Wilson is very anxious thatMiss Penclosa should be well again then, for he hasquite a programme of experiments which he is anxious tocarry out."

I was glad to have Agatha's promise, for it was enoughthat this woman should have one of us in her clutch. On the other hand, I was disturbed to hear about MissPenclosa's illness. It rather discounts the victorywhich I appeared to win last night. I remember thatshe said that loss of health interfered with her power. That may be why I was able to hold my own so easily. Well, well, I must take the same precautions to-nightand see what comes of it. I am childishly frightenedwhen I think of her.

April 10. All went very well last night. I was amusedat the gardener's face when I had again to hail himthis morning and to ask him to throw up my key. Ishall get a name among the servants if this sort ofthing goes on. But the great point is that I stayed inmy room without the slightest inclination to leave it. I do believe that I am shaking myself clear of thisincredible bond--or is it only that the woman's poweris in abeyance until she recovers her strength? I canbut pray for the best.

The Mardens left this morning, and the brightness seemsto have gone out of the spring sunshine. And yet it isvery beautiful also as it gleams on the green chestnutsopposite my windows, and gives a touch of gayety to theheavy, lichen-mottled walls of the old colleges. Howsweet and gentle and soothing is Nature! Who wouldthink that there lurked in her also such vile forces,such odious possibilities! For of course I understandthat this dreadful thing which has sprung out at me isneither supernatural nor even preternatural. No, it isa natural force which this woman can use and society isignorant of. The mere fact that it ebbs with herstrength shows how entirely it is subject to physicallaws. If I had time, I might probe it to the bottomand lay my hands upon its antidote. But you cannottame the tiger when you are beneath his claws. You canbut try to writhe away from him. Ah, when I look inthe glass and see my own dark eyes and clear-cutSpanish face, I long for a vitriol splash or a bout ofthe small-pox. One or the other might have saved mefrom this calamity.

I am inclined to think that I may have trouble to-night. There are two things which make me fear so. One is that I met Mrs. Wilson in the street, and thatshe tells me that Miss Penclosa is better, though stillweak. I find myself wishing in my heart that theillness had been her last. The other is that ProfessorWilson comes back in a day or two, and his presencewould act as a constraint upon her. I should not fearour interviews if a third person were present. Forboth these reasons I have a presentiment of trouble to-night, and I shall take the same precautions as before.

April 10. No, thank God, all went well last night. Ireally could not face the gardener again. I locked mydoor and thrust the key underneath it, so that I had toask the maid to let me out in the morning. But theprecaution was really not needed, for I never had anyinclination to go out at all. Three evenings insuccession at home! I am surely near the end of mytroubles, for Wilson will be home again either today ortomorrow. Shall I tell him of what I have gone throughor not? I am convinced that I should not have theslightest sympathy from him. He would look upon me asan interesting case, and read a paper about me at thenext meeting of the Psychical Society, in which hewould gravely discuss the possibility of my being adeliberate liar, and weigh it against the chances of mybeing in an early stage of lunacy. No, I shall get nocomfort out of Wilson.

I am feeling wonderfully fit and well. I don't think Iever lectured with greater spirit. Oh, if I could onlyget this shadow off my life, how happy I should be! Young, fairly wealthy, in the front rank of myprofession, engaged to a beautiful and charming girl--have I not every thing which a man could ask for? Onlyone thing to trouble me, but what a thing it is!

Midnight. I shall go mad. Yes, that will be the endof it. I shall go mad. I am not far from it now. Myhead throbs as I rest it on my hot hand. I amquivering all over like a scared horse. Oh, what anight I have had! And yet I have some cause to besatisfied also.

At the risk of becoming the laughing-stock of my ownservant, I again slipped my key under the door,imprisoning myself for the night. Then, finding it tooearly to go to bed, I lay down with my clothes on andbegan to read one of Dumas's novels. Suddenly I wasgripped--gripped and dragged from the couch. It isonly thus that I can describe the overpowering natureof the force which pounced upon me. I clawed at thecoverlet. I clung to the wood-work. I believe that Iscreamed out in my frenzy. It was all useless,hopeless. I MUST go. There was no way out of it. Itwas only at the outset that I resisted. The force soonbecame too overmastering for that. I thank goodnessthat there were no watchers there to interfere with me. I could not have answered for myself if there had been. And, besides the determination to get out, there cameto me, also, the keenest and coolest judgment inchoosing my means. I lit a candle and endeavored,kneeling in front of the door, to pull the key throughwith the feather-end of a quill pen. It was just tooshort and pushed it further away. Then with quietpersistence I got a paper-knife out of one of thedrawers, and with that I managed to draw the key back. I opened the door, stepped into my study, took aphotograph of myself from the bureau, wrote somethingacross it, placed it in the inside pocket of my coat,and then started off for Wilson's.

It was all wonderfully clear, and yet disassociatedfrom the rest of my life, as the incidents of even themost vivid dream might be. A peculiar doubleconsciousness possessed me. There was the predominantalien will, which was bent upon drawing me to the sideof its owner, and there was the feebler protestingpersonality, which I recognized as being myself,tugging feebly at the overmastering impulse as a ledterrier might at its chain. I can remember recognizingthese two conflicting forces, but I recall nothing ofmy walk, nor of how I was admitted to the house.

Very vivid, however, is my recollection of how I metMiss Penclosa. She was reclining on the sofa in thelittle boudoir in which our experiments had usuallybeen carried out. Her head was rested on her hand, anda tiger-skin rug had been partly drawn over her. Shelooked up expectantly as I entered, and, as the lamp-light fell upon her face, I could see that she was verypale and thin, with dark hollows under her eyes. Shesmiled at me, and pointed to a stool beside her. Itwas with her left hand that she pointed, and I, runningeagerly forward, seized it,--I loathe myself as I thinkof it,--and pressed it passionately to my lips. Then,seating myself upon the stool, and still retaining herhand, I gave her the photograph which I had broughtwith me, and talked and talked and talked--of my lovefor her, of my grief over her illness, of my joy at herrecovery, of the misery it was to me to be absent asingle evening from her side. She lay quietly lookingdown at me with imperious eyes and her provocativesmile. Once I remember that she passed her hand overmy hair as one caresses a dog; and it gave mepleasure--the caress. I thrilled under it. I was herslave, body and soul, and for the moment I rejoiced inmy slavery.

And then came the blessed change. Never tell me thatthere is not a Providence! I was on the brink ofperdition. My feet were on the edge. Was it acoincidence that at that very instant help should come? No, no, no; there is a Providence, and its hand hasdrawn me back. There is something in the universestronger than this devil woman with her tricks. Ah,what a balm to my heart it is to think so!

As I looked up at her I was conscious of a change inher. Her face, which had been pale before, was nowghastly. Her eyes were dull, and the lids droopedheavily over them. Above all, the look of sereneconfidence had gone from her features. Her mouth hadweakened. Her forehead had puckered. She wasfrightened and undecided. And as I watched the changemy own spirit fluttered and struggled, trying hard totear itself from the grip which held it--a grip which,from moment to moment, grew less secure.

"Austin," she whispered, "I have tried to do too much. I was not strong enough. I have not recovered yet frommy illness. But I could not live longer without seeingyou. You won't leave me, Austin? This is only apassing weakness. If you will only give me fiveminutes, I shall be myself again. Give me the smalldecanter from the table in the window."

But I had regained my soul. With her waning strengththe influence had cleared away from me and left mefree. And I was aggressive--bitterly, fiercelyaggressive. For once at least I could make this womanunderstand what my real feelings toward her were. Mysoul was filled with a hatred as bestial as the loveagainst which it was a reaction. It was the savage,murderous passion of the revolted serf. I could havetaken the crutch from her side and beaten her face inwith it. She threw her hands up, as if to avoid ablow, and cowered away from me into the corner of thesettee.

"The brandy!" she gasped. "The brandy!"

I took the decanter and poured it over the roots of apalm in the window. Then I snatched the photographfrom her hand and tore it into a hundred pieces.

"You vile woman," I said, "if I did my duty to society,you would never leave this room alive!"

"I love you, Austin; I love you!" she wailed.

"Yes," I cried, "and Charles Sadler before. And howmany others before that?"

"Charles Sadler!" she gasped. "He has spoken to you? So, Charles Sadler, Charles Sadler!" Her voice camethrough her white lips like a snake's hiss.

"Yes, I know you, and others shall know you, too. Youshameless creature! You knew how I stood. And yet youused your vile power to bring me to your side. Youmay, perhaps, do so again, but at least you willremember that you have heard me say that I love MissMarden from the bottom of my soul, and that I loatheyou, abhor you!

The very sight of you and the sound of your voice fillme with horror and disgust. The thought of you isrepulsive. That is how I feel toward you, and if itpleases you by your tricks to draw me again to yourside as you have done to-night, you will at least, Ishould think, have little satisfaction in trying tomake a lover out of a man who has told you his realopinion of you. You may put what words you will intomy mouth, but you cannot help remembering----"

I stopped, for the woman's head had fallen back, andshe had fainted. She could not bear to hear what I hadto say to her! What a glow of satisfaction it gives meto think that, come what may, in the future she cannever misunderstand my true feelings toward her. Butwhat will occur in the future? What will she do next? I dare not think of it. Oh, if only I could hope thatshe will leave me alone! But when I think of what Isaid to her---- Never mind; I have been stronger thanshe for once.

April 11. I hardly slept last night, and found myselfin the morning so unstrung and feverish that I wascompelled to ask Pratt-Haldane to do my lecture for me. It is the first that I have ever missed. I rose atmid-day, but my head is aching, my hands quivering, andmy nerves in a pitiable state.

Who should come round this evening but Wilson. He hasjust come back from London, where he has lectured, readpapers, convened meetings, exposed a medium, conducteda series of experiments on thought transference,entertained Professor Richet of Paris, spent hoursgazing into a crystal, and obtained some evidence as tothe passage of matter through matter. All this hepoured into my ears in a single gust.

"But you!" he cried at last. "You are not lookingwell. And Miss Penclosa is quite prostrated to-day. How about the experiments?"

"I have abandoned them."

"Tut, tut! Why?"

"The subject seems to me to be a dangerous one."

Out came his big brown note-book.

"This is of great interest," said he. "What are yourgrounds for saying that it is a dangerous one? Pleasegive your facts in chronological order, withapproximate dates and names of reliable witnesses withtheir permanent addresses."

"First of all," I asked, "would you tell me whether youhave collected any cases where the mesmerist has gaineda command over the subject and has used it for evilpurposes?"

"Dozens!" he cried exultantly. "Crime bysuggestion----"

"I don't mean suggestion. I mean where a suddenimpulse comes from a person at a distance--anuncontrollable impulse."

"Obsession!" he shrieked, in an ecstasy of delight. "It is the rarest condition. We have eight cases, fivewell attested. You don't mean to say----" Hisexultation made him hardly articulate.

"No, I don't," said I. "Good-evening! You will excuseme, but I am not very w ell to-night." And so at lastI got rid of him, still brandishing his pencil and hisnote-book. My troubles may be bad to hear, but atleast it is better to hug them to myself than to havemyself exhibited by Wilson, like a freak at a fair. Hehas lost sight of human beings. Every thing to him isa case and a phenomenon. I will die before I speak tohim again upon the matter.

April 12. Yesterday was a blessed day of quiet, and Ienjoyed an uneventful night. Wilson's presence is agreat consolation. What can the woman do now? Surely,when she has heard me say what I have said, she willconceive the same disgust for me which I have for her. She could not, no, she COULD not, desire to have alover who had insulted her so. No, I believe I am freefrom her love--but how about her hate? Might she notuse these powers of hers for revenge? Tut! why shouldI frighten myself over shadows? She will forget aboutme, and I shall forget about her, and all will be well.

April 13. My nerves have quite recovered their tone. I really believe that I have conquered the creature. But I must confess to living in some suspense. She iswell again, for I hear that she was driving with Mrs.Wilson in the High Street in the afternoon.

April 14. I do wish I could get away from the placealtogether. I shall fly to Agatha's side the very daythat the term closes. I suppose it is pitiably weak ofme, but this woman gets upon my nerves most terribly. I have seen her again, and I have spoken with her.

It was just after lunch, and I was smoking a cigarettein my study, when I heard the step of my servant Murrayin the passage. I was languidly conscious that asecond step was audible behind, and had hardly troubledmyself to speculate who it might be, when suddenly aslight noise brought me out of my chair with my skincreeping with apprehension. I had never particularlyobserved before what sort of sound the tapping of acrutch was, but my quivering nerves told me that Iheard it now in the sharp wooden clack which alternatedwith the muffled thud of the foot fall. Anotherinstant and my servant had shown her in.

I did not attempt the usual conventions of society, nordid she. I simply stood with the smouldering cigarettein my hand, and gazed at her. She in her turn lookedsilently at me, and at her look I remembered how inthese very pages I had tried to define the expressionof her eyes, whether they were furtive or fierce. To-day they were fierce--coldly and inexorably so.

"Well," said she at last, "are you still of the samemind as when I saw you last?"

"I have always been of the same mind."

"Let us understand each other, Professor Gilroy," saidshe slowly. "I am not a very safe person to triflewith, as you should realize by now. It was you whoasked me to enter into a series of experiments withyou, it was you who won my affections, it was you whoprofessed your love for me, it was you who brought meyour own photograph with words of affection upon it,and, finally, it was you who on the very same eveningthought fit to insult me most outrageously, addressingme as no man has ever dared to speak to me yet. Tellme that those words came from you in a moment ofpassion and I am prepared to forget and to forgivethem. You did not mean what you said, Austin? You donot really hate me?"

I might have pitied this deformed woman--such a longingfor love broke suddenly through the menace of her eyes. But then I thought of what I had gone through, and myheart set like flint.

"If ever you heard me speak of love," said I, "you knowvery well that it was your voice which spoke, and notmine. The only words of truth which I have ever beenable to say to you are those which you heard when lastwe met."

"I know. Some one has set you against me. It was he!" She tapped with her crutch upon the floor. "Well, youknow very well that I could bring you this instantcrouching like a spaniel to my feet. You will not findme again in my hour of weakness, when you can insult mewith impunity. Have a care what you are doing,Professor Gilroy. You stand in a terrible position. You have not yet realized the hold which I have uponyou."

I shrugged my shoulders and turned away.

"Well," said she, after a pause, "if you despise mylove, I must see what can be done with fear. Yousmile, but the day will come when you will comescreaming to me for pardon. Yes, you will grovel onthe ground before me, proud as you are, and you willcurse the day that ever you turned me from your bestfriend into your most bitter enemy. Have a care,Professor Gilroy!" I saw a white hand shaking in theair, and a face which was scarcely human, so convulsedwas it with passion. An instant later she was gone,and I heard the quick hobble and tap receding down thepassage.

But she has left a weight upon my heart. Vaguepresentiments of coming misfortune lie heavy upon me. I try in vain to persuade myself that these are onlywords of empty anger. I can remember those relentlesseyes too clearly to think so. What shall I do--ah,what shall I do? I am no longer master of my own soul. At any moment this loathsome parasite may creep intome, and then---- I must tell some one my hideoussecret--I must tell it or go mad. If I had some one tosympathize and advise! Wilson is out of the question. Charles Sadler would understand me only so far as hisown experience carries him. Pratt-Haldane! He is awell-balanced man, a man of great common-sense andresource. I will go to him. I will tell him everything. God grant that he may be able to advise me!