Her voice, never modulated in her excitements, was so full that no one heard at that instant a quick, indrawn breath from St. George, having something of triumph and something of terror. Even as he listened he had been running swiftly over the objects in the room to fasten every one in his memory, and his eyes had rested upon the table at his side. A disc of bronze, supported upon a carven tripod, caught the light and challenged attention to its delicate traceries; and within its border of asps and goat's horns he saw cut in the dull metal a sphinx crucified upon an upright cross--an exact facsimile of the device upon that strange opalized glass from some far-away island which he had lately noted in the window in Mrs. Hastings' drawing-room. Instantly his mind was besieged by a volley of suppositions and imaginings, but even in his intense excitement as to what this simple discovery might bode, he heard the prince's soft reply to Mrs. Hastings: "Madame," said the prince, "she is a loyal creature. Whatever she does, she believes herself to be doing in my service. I trusted her. I believed that such error was impossible to her." "Error!" shrilled Mrs. Hastings, looking about her for support and finding little in the aspect of Mr. Augustus Frothingham, who appeared to be regarding the whole proceeding as one from which he was to extract data to be thought out at some future infinitely removed. As for St. George, he had never had great traffic with a future infinitely removed; he had a youthful and somewhat imaginative fashion of striking before the iron was well in the fire. "Your servant believed, then, your Highness," he said clearly, "that in taking Miss Holland's life she was serving you?" "I must regretfully conclude so." St. George rose, holding the little brazen disc which he had taken from the table, and confronted his host, compelling his eyes. "Perhaps you will tell us, Prince Tabnit," he said coolly, "what it is that the people who use this device find against Miss Holland's father?" St. George heard Olivia's little broken cry. "It is the same!" she exclaimed. "Aunt Dora--Mr. Frothingham--it is the crucified sphinx that was on so many of the things that father sent. Oh," she cried to the prince, "can it be possible that you know him--that you know anything of my father?" To St. George's amazement the face of the prince softened and glowed as if with peculiar delight, and he looked at St. George with admiration. "Is it possible," he murmured, half to himself, "that your race has already developed intuition? Are you indeed so near to the Unknown?" He took quick steps away and back, and turned again to St. George, a strange joy dawning in his face. "If there be some who are ready to know!" he said. "Ah," he recalled himself penitently to Miss Holland, "your father--Otho Holland, I have seen him many times."