"May I look at it?" said Natalie, as they sat a moment, before beginning the séance. "Certainly. It is my talisman,--my charm. Without it, I could do nothing." "Really? How wonderful!" and the girl looked earnestly at the carven stone. "Your power is occult, then?" "I think it must be. Yet I would not be classed with the people who go by the general title of mediums. They are, usually, frauds." Orienta made this statement simply, as if speaking of some matter unconnected with her own work or claims. She gave the impression that if fraudulent "mediums" wished to impose upon the gullible public, it was of no interest to her, but she declined to be considered one of them. And so secure was she in her own sincerity, she deemed it unnecessary to emphasise or insist upon it. "What is your wish?" she asked, at length. "Will you try me first on some outside matters or shall we proceed at once to the question of the mystery we seek to solve?" Just then Robert Roberts was announced. "What shall we do?" exclaimed Natalie. "Tell him to come some other time?" "No," said Joyce, "let him come in here with us. You don't mind, do you, Madame Orienta?" "No; why should I? Who is he?" "The detective who is working on the case." Orienta shrugged her shoulders. "Of course it matters not to me. But are you sure you want him to know what I may reveal? It may incriminate----" "I don't care who may be incriminated!" exclaimed Joyce. "I want to find out a few things. As a matter of fact, I asked Mr. Roberts to come." Natalie turned pale. Had Joyce laid a trap? And for whom? What might they not learn before the evening was over? Bobsy entered, and was duly presented to the visitor. He was courteous, but unmistakably curious. "What may I call you?" he asked, as he bowed before her. "Priestess, if you please," she returned. "I refuse to be called a medium or a seeress or even a clairvoyant. I am these things, but the titles have been so misused that I claim only to be a Priestess of the Occult. This is no academic title, I simply name myself a priestess of the cult I express and follow." "Priestess, I greet you," said Bobsy, and to those who knew him a shade of mockery might be detected in his tone. But it was the merest hint and quite unobservable to the one he addressed. In most decorous manner he took a place in the group, and Joyce announced the plan she had in mind. "First," she said, "we will have an exhibition of Oriental powers. We will follow her instructions and she will give us a showing of her methods and her feats. Then,--if I say so,--we will proceed to try the other experiment."