implore their protection, declaring she had dreamed in
the most vivid manner possible that frightful-looking creatures, too
awful for her to describe, were trying to prevent her awaking in order
to keep her with them always. She told a spiritualist, and he informed
her that such dreams were not in reality dreams at all, but
projections--that she had, at seances, acquired the power of projection;
and, having no control over that power, she projected herself
unconsciously, the projection almost always taking place in her sleep.

A medical expert was also consulted, and in accordance with his advice
Constance Armande went to the seaside and resorted to every kind of
pleasure--balls, concerts, and theatres. But the annoyances still
continued, and she was seldom permitted to rest a whole night without
being disturbed in a most harrowing manner.

Being a really beautiful girl, she had countless admirers, and
eventually she became engaged to Alphonse Mabane, the only son of a very
wealthy widow.

Shortly before the day fixed for their marriage Madame Mabane was seized
with a fit of apoplexy and died. Every one, especially Constance
Armande, was overwhelmed with grief, whilst preparations were made for a
most impressive funeral.

On the afternoon of the day preceding that on which the funeral was to
take place Constance, complaining of a bad headache, went to lie down
on her bed, and two hours later strange footsteps were heard coming out
of her room and bounding down the stairs. Wondering who it could be,
Madame Armande ran to look, and was astonished beyond measure to see
Constance--but a Constance she hardly knew--a Constance with the glitter
of a ferocious beast in her eyes, and a grim, savage expression in the
corners of her mouth. She did not appear to notice her mother, but
passed her by with a light, stealthy tread, utterly unlike her usual
walk, crossed the hall, and went out at the front door. Madame Armande
was too startled to try and intercept her, or even to make any remark,
and returned to the drawing-room greatly agitated. As hour after hour
passed and Constance did not come home, her alarm increased, and she
mentioned the incident to her husband, who caused immediate inquiries to
be made. Just about the hour the family usually retired to rest there
came a violent ring at the front-door bell. It was Alphonse Mabane, pale
and ghastly.

"Have you found her?" Monsieur and Madame Armande cried, catching hold
of