, yet both of these men believed
that the woman could pass through locked doors, that she could appear
and disappear as she wished. And Brown had said that to look behind the
veil was madness. Was she abroad in these woods? He had waited for some
time. There was nothing. He stepped forward.

Immediately he knew there was someone. He sprang aside, whipping out his
revolver, crouching against an expected attack; for a figure blacker
than the night had glided in his path from behind a tree trunk, and the
hands carried something round, black--

"Put that thing down," Garth whispered, "then up with your hands!"

Her laugh barely reached him.

"I thought it was you, Jim."

He dropped his revolver in his pocket and strode forward, angry and
anxious.

"What are you doing here, Nora?"

He laughed uncomfortably.

"For a minute I looked for the veiled woman."

"I've come," she said confidently, "for her, and to see that you don't
throw your life away, because you won't admit the possibility of
incomprehensible forces."

"You must go back," he said. "What's in that bundle you're carrying?"

She held the bundle up, and Garth touched it. It was a soft substance
wrapped in a black shawl.

"What is it?" he repeated.

"A white gown," she answered simply, "and a white veil, so that I may
take the bomb after I have trapped this queer creature; so that I may
talk to these men and learn how wide the organization is."

She argued logically enough that there was less risk this way than the
other. Once she had the bomb in her hands the great danger would be
over. Try as he might, Garth could not move her. She walked on towards
the house.

They paused at the edge of the woods. The dark, vague mass of the
building frowned at them. The windows, Garth gathered, were heavily
curtained, for no gleam of light escaped.

"I am going in with you, Jim, to see it through," Nora whispered. "Don't
be disapproving. I only want to help."

Impulsively he grasped her hand. For a moment he forgot the restraint
she had forced upon him.

"Nora," he said hoarsely, "since I lost my temper with Black, you've not
been kind. You know I want you with all my heart--"

Through the darkness her voice was filled with wistful regret and
sympathy. It reminded him again that her tragic love affair, preceding
their capture of Slim and George, still touched her with fingers of
sorrow; had not yet given her time to adjust herself to this new ardor.

"Hu