said Swain, bitterly. "An adept, or whatever they call it. He's
the fellow who kicked me out."

"Does he speak English?"

"Better than I do. He seems a finely-educated man."

"Is he a lunatic, too?"

Swain hesitated.

"I don't know," he said, finally. "I only saw him once, and I was
certainly impressed--I wasn't one, two, three with him. I suppose
mysticism comes more or less natural to a Hindu; but I'm convinced
that Mr. Vaughan has softening of the brain."

"How old is he?"

"About sixty."

"Has he always been queer?"

"He has always been interested in telepathy and mental suggestion,
and all that sort of thing. But before his wife's death, he was fairly
normal. It was her death that started him on this supernatural
business. He hasn't thought of anything else since."

"Are there any relatives who could be asked to interfere?"

"None that I know of."

I thought over what he had told me.

"Well," I said at last, "I can see no harm in your meeting Miss
Vaughan and finding out what the condition of affairs really is. If
her father is really mad, he may be a good deal worse now than he was
when you saw him last. It would, of course, be possible to have his
sanity tested--but his daughter would scarcely wish to do that."

"No, of course not," Swain agreed.

"Her letter tells you nothing?"

"Nothing except that she is in great trouble, and wishes to see me at
once."

"You are to go to the house?"

"No; there is an arbour in one corner of the grounds. She says that
she will be there at eleven-thirty every night for three nights. After
that, she says it will be no use for me to come--that it will be too
late."

"What does she mean by 'too late'?"

"I have no idea," he answered, and turned to another anxious perusal
of the letter.

I turned the situation over in my mind. Evidently Miss Vaughan
believed that she had grave cause for alarm, and yet it was quite
possible she might be mistaken. She was being urged to consent to
something against her will, but perhaps it was for her own good. In
any event, I had seen no indication that her consent was being sought
by violence. There must be no interference on our part until we were
surer of our ground.

"Well, Swain," I said, at last, "I will help you on one condition."

"What is that?"

"You will meet Miss Vaughan to-night and hear her story, but you will
take no action until you and I have talked the matter over. She,
herself, says that she has t