"Hide your hands in the sleeves. Now, listen. I'm going to keep them busy looking at the curtains. When you hear a gong ring three times, come through the panel, and go between the curtain and the wall-hanging, on the side toward the window. The gas is down to a pinpoint. Those folks think they can see a lot more than they do. But they won't see you, unless you show some white. Anyhow they'll be watching the cabinet. Keep outside the circle of chairs, and work your way to the door of the next room. There are hangings there; go through them. You'll find light enough in the next room to get to the door into the hall. First stuff the robe under the sofa. You'll _find_ your hat under there. You left it here when you came, and I tucked it away. You'd better wear the slippers down to the street. Never mind about returning them--unless you care to come. Now, be careful." "The Japanese--where are they?" "At the other side of the circle. Don't worry about them. They're only kids when it comes to my game. Now, wait till I get the things I need." She slipped past him in the closet, and he heard faint rustlings as she gathered her paraphernalia. Soon she was back at the panel. The last stanza of the hymn was drawing to a close. "Be sure you follow directions," she whispered. "I will." He pressed her hand gratefully. "And--and you won't forget me." With a sudden yearning that seemed to be beyond her control, she leaned her body against him. Her warm breath was on his face; her arm found its way around him and held him convulsively. "Oh," she whispered, "I can't bear to have you go. Don't forget me--please don't forget me." "I shall never forget you, and what you have done for me," he answered gravely. "You will come back and see me--sometime?" "I will come back. And I should like to bring a friend, who will have even more cause to thank you than I have." "A friend?" A tinge of apprehension colored the question: "A--a woman?" "Yes." The soft curves of her body were quickly withdrawn from him. "Oh," she whispered, "I don't believe I want to see her." For a moment she stood motionless. Then she said: "Are you sorry you kissed me?" "No," he answered, "I am not." Her lips brushed his forehead, and he was alone. Groping with one hand, he assured himself that the panel remained open. All in black, he awaited the signal. And now strange manifestations began in the room without. There were rappings, some faint, some loud--coming apparently from all quarters. Invisible fingers swept gently across the strings of a guitar. Then came the soft clangor of a gong--once, twice, three times.