"Certainly," he responded simply. "I entered the Church with the object of serving the Master, and I intend to do so." "And the lady who was once a parish-worker here," I said, with some hesitancy. "Have you seen her?" "Ah!" he sighed, as a dark shadow crossed his thoughtful brow, and his lips compressed. "You alone know my secret, old fellow, you alone are aware of the torment I am suffering." "What torment?" I inquired, surprised. At that instant, however, the old verger, a man who spoke with a pronounced South London drawl, interrupted by dashing in alarmed and pale-faced, saying-- "There's been a robbery, sir--an awful sacrilege!" "Sacrilege!" echoed Yelverton, starting up. "Yes, sir. The chalice you used this morning at Communion I put in the niche beside the organ, meaning to clean it to-night. I've always put it there these twelve years. But it's gone." My friend went forth into the church, and I followed until we came to the niche which the old verger indicated. There was no chalice there, but in its place only white ashes and a few pieces of metal melted out of all recognition. All three of us stood gazing at the fused fragments of the sacramental cup, astonished and amazed. CHAPTER NINETEEN. THE RESULT OF THE COMPACT. "There's some Devil's work been performed here!" gasped the newly-appointed vicar, turning over the ashes with trembling hands, while at the same time I, too, bent and examined the fused fragments of the Communion cup. The recollection of the miraculous changes effected in my own room was fresh within my memory, and I stood amazed. The agency to which was due the melting of the chalice was still a mystery, but had I not seen Aline, the Woman of Evil, leave the church? It was apparent that Yelverton had not detected her presence, or he would most probably have referred to it. He loved her with an all-absorbing love, yet, like myself, he seemed to hold her in some mysterious dread, the reason of which I always failed to discover. His theory that the clergy should not marry was, I believe, a mere cloak to hide his terror of her. This incident showed me that now he had come back to his old parish she haunted him as she had done in the past, sometimes unseen, and at others boldly greeting him. That night she had sat a few pews behind me listening to his brilliant discourse, veiled and unrecognised in the half-lighted church, and had escaped quickly, in order that none should be aware of her presence. But I had caught a glimpse of her, and knowledge of her visit had been immediately followed by this astounding discovery. Her evil influence had once more asserted itself upon a sacred object and destroyed it. Truly her power was Satanic. Yet she was so calm, so sweet, so eminently beautiful, that I did not wonder that he loved her. Indeed, I recollected how enthusiastically I once had fallen down and worshipped her.