Chassaigne glanced at the young woman still crouched upon the chair. “As a professional man of some experience, monsieur,” he said, imperturbably, “I do not agree with you. I feel sure your patient would benefit by it. Let me beg of you!” The German trembled with sudden anger. “This is an unwarrantable interference, monsieur! The patient is in my charge. I decline absolutely!” He turned to the girl. “Come, Ottilie!” he added in German. She ventured a shrinking glance up at him, stirred as if to rise. Chassaigne raised his hand in a gesture which checked her. His eyes met the German’s in a direct challenge. “Unreasonable as it sounds, monsieur, I have set my heart upon witnessing your methods. It is a whim of the conqueror--the force of which you, who have served in Belgium, will appreciate.” His right hand slid into the pocket of his tunic. “I must insist!” “I refuse, then!” The German was livid with rage. He turned and plucked the girl violently from her seat. “Out of my way, monsieur!” Dragging the girl after him, he took two steps toward the door--and stopped suddenly. Two more steps would have brought him into contact with the muzzle of the revolver which Chassaigne levelled at him. “Foreseeing your possible ill-humour, monsieur,” said the Frenchman, with a mocking suavity, “I took the precaution of locking the door. This young woman has inspired me with so violent an interest that I cannot bear to see her suffer unrelieved. And I might remind you that should you unfortunately lose your life by the accidental explosion of this revolver--I should find it comparatively easy to restore her to complete mental health myself.” The German glared at him. “I do not understand you!” “You do--perfectly!” Chassaigne turned to his friend. “Vincent, conduct that young lady to a chair!” The girl, who had been released by the German in the first shock of his surprise, stood paralyzed with terror, staring speechlessly at the revolver in Chassaigne’s hand. Unresistingly, she allowed herself to be led to a chair by the young man who was as speechless as she. Chassaigne nodded satisfaction. “Good! Now, Vincent, draw your revolver and cover this gentleman yourself. Be careful to hit him in a vital spot should you be compelled to fire.” Vincent obeyed with alacrity, dangling the heavy weapon with fingers that evidently itched to pull the trigger. “Monsieur,” said Chassaigne with grim courtesy to the German who had remained motionless under the menace of the revolver, “I invite you to take a seat. You may keep your hands on your knees, but do not move them until I give permission.” The German sat down heavily, his eyes gleaming evilly at the Frenchman. “Now, monsieur,” said Chassaigne, in succinct tones, “since you say you do not understand, I will be more explicit. I desire that you should induce in this young woman the hypnotic trance which is your habitual treatment for her indisposition----”