"I will call when it is possible," she replied. "You say you love me. Then promise me one thing." "Anything you wish I am ready to grant," I answered. "Then do not write to me, or seek me. I will call and see you whenever my time admits." "But may I not write?" I asked. "No," she answered firmly. "No letters must pass between us." I saw that she meant to enforce this condition, therefore did not argue, but reluctantly took leave of her after her refusal to allow me to accompany her back to Hampstead. Again she allowed me to kiss her hand, then turning slowly she sighed and passed out, preceded by Simes, who opened the door for her. I sank back into my chair when the door closed upon her, puzzled yet ecstatic. This woman, the most beautiful I had ever seen, had allowed me to love her. I had at last an object in life. Aline Cloud was my well-beloved, and I would live only for her. In those moments, as I sat alone gazing into the fire, I became filled with a great content, for infatuation had overwhelmed me. The clock striking seven at last aroused me to a sense of hunger, and I rose to dross before going along to the club to dine. As I did so, however, my eyes suddenly fell upon the mantel-shelf, and I stood amazed, dumbfounded, rooted to the spot. Upon the shelf there had been a small wooden medallion, a specimen of the Russian peasants' carving, representing the head of a Madonna--I had bought it in Moscow a year before--but an utterly astounding thing had occurred. I could scarce believe my own eyes. It had been consumed by an unseen fire, just as the crucifix had been, and nothing but a little white ash now remained! "Good heavens!" I gasped; and with my finger touched the ashes. They were still warm! I stood wondering, my gaze fixed upon the consumed Madonna, reflecting that upon the occasion of Aline's last visit my crucifix was destroyed in the same manner by some unseen agency, and now, strangely enough, this second sacred emblem in my possession had with her presence disappeared, falling into ashes beneath my very eyes. The mysterious influence of evil she confessed to possessing was here illustrated in a manner that was unmistakable. In an instant all the strange words she had uttered swept through my bewildered brain as I stood there terrified, aghast. The mystery surrounding her was as inexplicable as it was startling. CHAPTER FIVE. THE BONY-FACED MAN. Daily the problem grew more puzzling.