Ouija was now burning brightly above the Cape Cod lighter. Ben Allis called to his wife. “Maud, do get a taxi round at once for Fenwick. He’s tired and doesn’t want to walk.” “Certainly, I will. Did you people come to any conclusion?” “Ben has the right of it, I’m sure. Telepathy.” I spoke quite loud. “He’ll tell you all about it. We’re going.” Maud went off to the telephone. Fenwick’s voice cut in. “Thanks for thinking of the taxi, Allis. I believe I do want one. Good-night.” “Shall I come along with you?” I asked, thinking of Mrs. Conway’s brave support of Fanny Medford. Allis frowned, and Fenwick, though he had got himself in hand, seemed to cringe a little before the frown. “No, thanks. I’m going straight to bed. It’s needless to say, I suppose, that this thing shall go no further, as far as I am concerned. I can’t say it has been a pleasant evening, but it has been interesting. It’s funny, isn’t it”--he spoke rapidly, but carefully--“that a party of friends can react so differently? Mrs. Conway thinks it’s evil spirits; I think Hilles did get through; and you and Allis think it was all communicated from Allis’s subconscious to mine. But we all hope that Mrs. Conway will convince Mrs. Medford.” No; he could evidently take care of himself now. And he obviously wanted to be alone. Mrs. Allis, returning, rallied him as she said good-night. “Your taxi is there already, I think, Mr. Fenwick. What do you think of Belshazzar’s letter _now_? I’m sorry you had to get the letter.” It was all right for Maud to carry things off lightly--probably she felt it was her duty--but it didn’t help Allis and me so much as she doubtless hoped. “I think I can promise never to meddle with this sort of thing again,” he said gravely. “I’m convinced it was the real thing. Your husband thinks he was responsible. He’ll explain to you.” Allis answered the plea that sounded faintly in Fenwick’s voice. “Yes, Maud shall have my telepathy theory. I think she’ll agree. Maud, do go to the door with Fenwick. There’s no fender here, and I don’t like to leave ouija.” Maud Allis, as you may have made out, was a good wife who never argued an absurdity if her husband perpetrated it. She preceded Fenwick to the hall. Allis gripped my hand. “I shall tell Maud exactly what I said. You’ll tell nobody anything.” “Of course not. For Mrs. Medford’s sake, if nothing else.” Allis relaxed his grip. “Yes--and Fenwick’s, too. I’ve been fond of him for a long time. Perhaps he’ll never give himself away again.” “Perhaps not,” I agreed. “Asia is a large continent. He may come to believe it was Hilles communicating, you know.” “Well, I rather hope he does. Fenwick’s got to live. But you and I don’t believe it.” “No, we don’t.”