Herr Klesmer, who had been good-natured enough to seat himself at the piano, struck a thunderous chord—but in the same instant, and before Hermione had put forth her foot, the movable panel, which was on a line with the piano, flew open on the right opposite the stage and disclosed the picture of the dead face and the fleeing figure, brought out in pale definiteness by the position of the wax-lights. Everyone was startled, but all eyes in the act of turning toward the open panel were recalled by a piercing cry from Gwendolen, who stood without change of attitude, but with a change of expression that was terrifying in its terror. She looked like a statue into which a soul of Fear had entered: her pallid lips were parted; her eyes, usually narrowed under their long lashes, were dilated and fixed. Her mother, less surprised than alarmed, rushed toward her, and Rex, too, could not help going to her side. But the touch of her mother’s arm had the effect of an electric charge; Gwendolen fell on her knees and put her hands before her face. She was still trembling, but mute, and it seemed that she had self-consciousness enough to aim at controlling her signs of terror, for she presently allowed herself to be raised from her kneeling posture and led away, while the company were relieving their minds by explanation. “A magnificent bit of _plastik_ that!” said Klesmer to Miss Arrowpoint. And a quick fire of undertoned question and answer went round. “Was it part of the play?” “Oh, no, surely not. Miss Harleth was too much affected. A sensitive creature!” “Dear me! I was not aware that there was a painting behind that panel; were you?” “No; how should I? Some eccentricity in one of the Earl’s family long ago, I suppose.” “How very painful! Pray shut it up.” “Was the door locked? It is very mysterious. It must be the spirits.” “But there is no medium present.” “How do you know that? We must conclude that there is, when such things happen.” “Oh, the door was not locked; it was probably the sudden vibration from the piano that sent it open.” This conclusion came from Mr. Gascoigne, who begged Miss Merry if possible to get the key. But this readiness to explain the mystery was thought by Mrs. Vulcany unbecoming in a clergyman, and she observed in an undertone that Mr. Gascoigne was always a little too worldly for her taste. However, the key was produced, and the rector turned it in the lock with an emphasis rather offensively rationalizing—as who should say, “it will not start open again”—putting the key in his pocket as a security. However, Gwendolen soon reappeared, showing her usual spirits, and evidently determined to ignore as far as she could the striking change she had made in the part of Hermione.