"And I shall be," said Adele, "if--" She leaned forward in anxiety. She had come to the real necessity of Helene Vauquier's plan. "If we abandon as quite laughable the cupboard door and the string across it; if, in a word, mademoiselle consents that we tie her hand and foot and fasten her securely in a chair. Such restraints are usual in the experiments of which I have read. Was there not a medium called Mlle. Cook who was secured in this way, and then remarkable things, which I could not believe, were supposed to have happened?" "Certainly I permit it," said Celia, with indifference; and Mme. Dauvray cried enthusiastically: "Ah, you shall believe to-night in those wonderful things!" Adele Tace leaned back. She drew a breath. It was a breath of relief. "Then we will buy the cord in Aix," she said. "We have some, no doubt, in the house," said Mme. Dauvray. Adele shook her head and smiled. "My dear madame, you are dealing with a sceptic. I should not be content." Celia shrugged her shoulders. "Let us satisfy Mme. Rossignol," she said. Celia, indeed, was not alarmed by this last precaution. For her it was a test less difficult than the light-coloured rustling robe. She had appeared upon so many platforms, had experienced too often the bungling efforts of spectators called up from the audience, to be in any fear. There were very few knots from which her small hands and supple fingers had not learnt long since to extricate themselves. She was aware how much in all these matters the personal equation counted. Men who might, perhaps, have been able to tie knots from which she could not get free were always too uncomfortable and self-conscious, or too afraid of hurting her white arms and wrists, to do it. Women, on the other hand, who had no compunctions of that kind, did not know how. It was now nearly eight o'clock; the rain still held off. "We must go," said Mme. Dauvray, who for the last half-hour had been continually looking at her watch. They drove to the station and took the train. Once more the rain came down, but it had stopped again before the train steamed into Aix at nine o'clock. "We will take a cab," said Mme. Dauvray: "it will save time." "It will do us good to walk, madame," pleaded Adele. The train was full. Adele passed quickly out from the lights of the station in the throng of passengers and waited in the dark square for the others to join her. "It is barely nine. A friend has promised to call at the Villa Rose for me after eleven and drive me back in a motor-car to Geneva, so we have plenty of time." They walked accordingly up the hill, Mme. Dauvray slowly, since she was stout, and Celia keeping pace with her. Thus it seemed natural that Adele Tace should walk ahead, though a passer-by would not have thought she was of their company. At the corner of the Rue du Casino Adele waited for them and said quickly: