"Mademoiselle, you can get some cord, I think, at the shop there," and she pointed to the shop of M. Corval. "Madame and I will go slowly on; you, who are the youngest, will easily catch us up." Celia went into the shop, bought the cord, and caught Mme. Dauvray up before she reached the villa. "Where is Mme. Rossignol?" she asked. "She went on," said Camille Dauvray. "She walks faster than I do." They passed no one whom they knew, although they did pass one who recognised them, as Perrichet had discovered. They came upon Adele, waiting for them at the corner of the road, where it turns down toward the villa. "It is near here--the Villa Rose?" she asked. "A minute more and we are there." They turned in at the drive, closed the gate behind them, and walked up to the villa. The windows and the glass doors were closed, the latticed shutters fastened. A light burned in the hall. "Helene is expecting us," said Mme. Dauvray, for as they approached she saw the front door open to admit them, and Helene Vauquier in the doorway. The three women went straight into the little salon, which was ready with the lights up and a small fire burning. Celia noticed the fire with a trifle of dismay. She moved a fire-screen in front of it. "I can understand why you do that, mademoiselle," said Adele Rossignol, with a satirical smile. But Mme. Dauvray came to the girl's help. "She is right, Adele. Light is the great barrier between us and the spirit-world," she said solemnly. Meanwhile, in the hall Helene Vauquier locked and bolted the front door. Then she stood motionless, with a smile upon her face and a heart beating high. All through that afternoon she had been afraid that some accident at the last moment would spoil her plan, that Adele Tace had not learned her lesson, that Celie would take fright, that she would not return. Now all those fears were over. She had her victims safe within the villa. The charwoman had been sent home. She had them to herself. She was still standing in the hall when Mme. Dauvray called aloud impatiently: "Helene! Helene!" And when she entered the salon there was still, as Celia was able to recall, some trace of her smile lingering upon her face. Adele Rossignol had removed her hat and was taking off her gloves. Mme. Dauvray was speaking impatiently to Celia. "We will arrange the room, dear, while Helene helps you to dress. It will be quite easy. We shall use the recess."