Then half an hour later over in the chapel things suddenly went all wrong. It was several years since Lois had been at Benediction and at first she was thrilled by the gleaming monstrance with its central spot of white, the air rich and heavy with incense, and the sun shining through the stained-glass window of St. Francis Xavier overhead and falling in warm red tracery on the cassock of the man in front of her, but at the first notes of the "O SALUTARIS HOSTIA" a heavy weight seemed to descend upon her soul. Kieth was on her right and young Jarvis on her left, and she stole uneasy glance at both of them. What's the matter with me? she thought impatiently. She looked again. Was there a certain coldness in both their profiles, that she had not noticed before--a pallor about the mouth and a curious set expression in their eyes? She shivered slightly: they were like dead men. She felt her soul recede suddenly from Kieth's. This was her brother--this, this unnatural person. She caught herself in the act of a little laugh. "What is the matter with me?" She passed her hand over her eyes and the weight increased. The incense sickened her and a stray, ragged note from one of the tenors in the choir grated on her ear like the shriek of a slate-pencil. She fidgeted, and raising her hand to her hair touched her forehead, found moisture on it. "It's hot in here, hot as the deuce." Again she repressed a faint laugh and, then in an instant the weight on her heart suddenly diffused into cold fear. . . . It was that candle on the altar. It was all wrong--wrong. Why didn't somebody see it? There was something IN it. There was something coming out of it, taking form and shape above it. She tried to fight down her rising panic, told herself it was the wick. If the wick wasn't straight, candles did something--but they didn't do this! With incalculable rapidity a force was gathering within her, a tremendous, assimilative force, drawing from every sense, every corner of her brain, and as it surged up inside her she felt an enormous terrified repulsion. She drew her arms in close to her side away from Kieth and Jarvis. Something in that candle . . . she was leaning forward--in another moment she felt she would go forward toward it--didn't any one see it? . . . anyone? "Ugh!" She felt a space beside her and something told her that Jarvis had gasped and sat down very suddenly . . . then she was kneeling and as the flaming monstrance slowly left the altar in the hands of the priest, she heard a great rushing noise in her ears--the crash of the bells was like hammer-blows . . . and then in a moment that seemed eternal a great torrent rolled over her heart--there was a shouting there and a lashing as of waves . . . . . . She was calling, felt herself calling for Kieth, her lips mouthing the words that would not come: "Kieth! Oh, my God! KIETH!"