n this enlightened age of
ours, have condemned poor souls, as sane as you or I, to the madhouse!
Why, in God's name," he cried with a sudden excitement, "does science
persistently ignore all those laws which cannot be examined in the
laboratory! Will the day never come when some true man of science
shall endeavour to explain the movements of a table upon which a ring
of hands has been placed? Will no exact scientist condescend to
examine the properties of a _planchette_? Will no one do for the
phenomena termed thought-forms, what Newton did for that of the
falling apple? Ah! Rob, in some respects, this is a darker age than
those which bear the stigma of darkness."

Silence fell for a few moments between them; then:

"One thing is certain," said Robert Cairn, deliberately, "we are in
danger!"

"In the greatest danger!"

"Antony Ferrara, realising that we are bent upon his destruction, is
making a final, stupendous effort to compass ours. I know that you
have placed certain seals upon the windows of this house, and that
after dusk these windows are never opened. I know that imprints,
strangely like the imprints of _fiery hands_, may be seen at this
moment upon the casements of Myra's room, your room, my room, and
elsewhere. I know that Myra's dreams are not ordinary, meaningless
dreams. I have had other evidence. I don't want to analyse these
things; I confess that my mind is not capable of the task. I do not
even want to know the meaning of it all; at the present moment, I only
want to know one thing: _Who is Antony Ferrara?_"

Dr. Cairn stood up, and turning, faced his son.

"The time has come," he said, "when that question, which you have
asked me so many times before, shall be answered. I will tell you all
I know, and leave you to form your own opinion. For ere we go any
further, I assure you that I do not know for certain who he is!"

"You have said so before, sir. Will you explain what you mean?"

"When his adoptive father, Sir Michael Ferrara," resumed the doctor,
beginning to pace up and down the library--"when Sir Michael and I
were in Egypt, in the winter of 1893, we conducted certain inquiries
in the Fayum. We camped for over three months beside the Meydum
Pyramid. The object of our inquiries was to discover the tomb of a
certain queen. I will not trouble you with the details, which could be
of no interest to anyone but an Egyptologist, I will merely say that
apart from the name and titles by which sh