"That's most extraordinary!" she declared, in an incredulous tone. "When I was seized it was not until I had left the room. I went out with the object of obtaining a sheet of note-paper from the library in order to write a reply to the message, but on emerging into the hall I was suddenly seized, and returned to the morning-room at once. I stood holding on to the table; but my limbs failed me, and I fell to the ground." "And then the woman who had called upon you slipped along the hall and out into the street." "I suppose she must have done, for I did not see her again. I tried to call out, but could not. The electric light was suddenly switched off. She must have done that on her way out." "Cannot you tell us either of the nature of the message or from whom it came?" I asked earnestly. She was silent for a moment, glancing at her cousin. "No," she answered; "I am unable to do that." CHAPTER TWENTY. THE CHILL HAND. Was the message from her lover or from that villain Tattersett? Her refusal piqued me, and I was half inclined to suggest that it was from the one or the other. Still, in this marvellous maze of mystery, I saw that it was not at all a judicious proceeding to show my hand. What I already knew was of value to me in my efforts to piece together this bewildering puzzle. The more I reflected the more convinced I became that the visitor in black was none other than the dreaded woman whose threatened vengeance was known to be imminent--La Gioia the mysterious. "The visitor did not touch you?" I asked. "Neither did she give you any note?" "No; the message was verbal. I went once to the library and obtained a sheet of note-paper, but on returning found it to be soiled. Therefore I went out again to get a second, sheet, and it was then that I felt a sudden grip, just as though an icy breath had touched me. In an instant I went cold all over, and my limbs became so benumbed that I could not feel them." "You did not suspect this woman of producing this effect upon you?" Hoefer asked, grunting dubiously. "Certainly not. How could she?" "But her actions afterwards, in switching off the light and stealing out, were suspicious." "That's so; but how do you account for your own seizure nearly two hours after her departure?" "Ach!" he cried; "it is extraordinary--that is all we can say." "The room is nothing less than a death-trap," I remarked. "And yet the baneful influence is a mysterious one. I wish you could tell us the name of the sender of the message, Miss Wynd. It would materially assist us in our researches." "I tell you that it was a friend who could have no object whatever in making any attack upon my life," she answered, ambiguously. "But this woman," I continued. "Are you certain that you do not know her--that you have never met her before?" "Quite certain," she responded without hesitation. "She was an utter stranger." I exchanged glances with Hoefer. The mystery was still inscrutable.