?" she asked.

There was anger, there was menace in the voice, but above all these
there was fear--fear that her illusions were to tumble about her. Celia
heard that note and was quelled by it. This folly of belief, these
seances, were the one touch of colour in Mme. Dauvray's life. And it
was just that instinctive need of colour which had made her so easy to
delude. How strong the need is, how seductive the proposal to supply
it, Celia knew well. She knew it from the experience of her life when
the Great Fortinbras was at the climax of his fortunes. She had
travelled much amongst monotonous, drab towns without character or
amusements. She had kept her eyes open. She had seen that it was from
the denizens of the dull streets in these towns that the quack
religions won their recruits. Mme. Dauvray's life had been a
featureless sort of affair until these experiments had come to colour
it. Madame Dauvray must at any rate preserve the memory of that colour.

"No," she said boldly; "I am not afraid," and after that she moved no
more.

Her elbows were drawn firmly back and tightly bound. She was sure she
could not free them. She glanced in despair at Helene Vauquier, and
then some glimmer of hope sprang up. For Helene Vauquier gave her a
look, a smile of reassurance. It was as if she said, "I will come to
your help." Then, to make security still more sure, Adele turned the
girl about as unceremoniously as if she had been a doll, and, passing a
cord at the back of her arms, drew both ends round in front and knotted
them at her waist.

"Now, Celie," said Adele, with a vibration in her voice which Celia had
not remarked before.

Excitement was gaining upon her, as upon Mme. Dauvray. Her face was
flushed and shiny, her manner peremptory and quick. Celia's uneasiness
grew into fear. She could have used the words which Hanaud spoke the
next day in that very room--"There is something here which I do not
understand." The touch of Adele Tact's hands communicated something to
her--something which filled her with a vague alarm. She could not have
formulated it if she would; she dared not if she could. She had but to
stand and submit.

"Now," said Adele.

She took the girl by the shoulders and set her in a clear space in the
middle of the room, her back to the recess, her face to the mirror,
where all could see her.

"Now, Celie"--she had dropped the "Mlle." and the ironic suavity of her
manner--"try to free yourself."

For