"Tomorrow night. The rays will be at their maximum intensity. If everything goes right, and it is the will of God that I defeat this devil-daughter from another world, your fiancée will be returned to you, unharmed; the many tortured souls who now follow Moonere will be freed; and the world will be rid of at least one black scourge of unholiness. The work of my family will be finished." "But you still haven't told me why you were burned by the crystal," Carl interrupted. "So I haven't. And you need that to convince you further that I am not a madman spinning lies to lure you into lunacy, eh? Well, it was through my desire to test my ray with which I hope to destroy Moonere. That was ten years ago, shortly after the death of my father. I was so sure that with this ray nothing could prevent my success in exterminating Moonere that I went to her home. I knew just where to find the secret entrance that leads to the temple of the maidens. No one else could have found it. The home of the Countess Moonard was built sixty years ago; and in all of London, neither you nor Scotland Yard combined could find a trace of the architects who constructed it. It is so ingeniously arranged to mislead a curious snooper that one could spend the rest of his life wandering from one false corridor into another, never getting anywhere. No, only I could find the secret entrance that leads to the temple with its star-glass in the roof. The plan of the house is the same as was her first temple many centuries ago." * * * * * "You mean the Countess is immortal?" "Of course; that is, the lifetime of Moonere does not correspond with any human conception of a life-span. Moonere, or the Countess Moonard, as she has been known here in London, is from another planet, and has lived on this earth, serving the God of Sudre, for many ages. As long as she serves faithfully, she will live at his will. If she never offends her fiendish deity, she will live eternally. Even in my family, where the knowledge of her has existed for many centuries, there is no record of her beginning. You will find that hard to believe, because such things are beyond the comprehension of men. It will always be so with the mysteries of this world. Only a few learn the solemn secrets, and they find their knowledge a curse, their lips forever sealed by man's eternal skepticism.