As he spoke he took from his breast pocket the mummy hand poor Weldon had given me. I could not suppress an exclamation. He had spoken truly then. Belleville tossed the hand upon a table. "I was rather glad to get it back," he said. "Not that it really mattered; but I wondered who had found it. Did Weldon still cling to it after he was dead?" "You scoundrel!" I cried. "It was you--really then? You pushed him over the platform?" He laughed. "In person, no, but by direction, yes." Then he became serious. "But let us avoid personalities, if you please. We each possess an ugly temper, I believe; and mine is sometimes uncontrollable. Do you agree?" "Proceed!" said I. He bowed ironically. "There is but little more to tell you now. You know almost all you need to know, and enough, I feel sure, to enable you to anticipate your fate." "You intend to murder me, I suppose?" "Exactly. But it depends on yourself whether you shall have a painless death or no. If you will do what I require you shall have the choice between aconite and morphia. If you refuse, well,"--he pursed up his lips--"you'll live longer, Pinsent; yes, you'll live longer--but frankly, old chap, you won't like it. I hate you, you know, and I am a surgeon, and you are there and I am here; I repeat, I hate you. And I am not only a surgeon, I am a skilful surgeon. I am, besides, a vivisectionist. That is one of my hobbies. And I'll keep you alive as long as possible. For let me yet again assure you I _hate--you--hate you, hate you_!" There was no doubt of it. He hated me. The emotion was infectious. I hated him. I had before; but I now realised how much. After one long glance into his gloating eyes I lowered mine and asked in a voice I strove to render civil: "What is it you want me to do for you?" "I want you to play the part of a friendly disembodied ghostly match-maker." "I fail to understand you." "Naturally. But listen. I intend to render you invisible. When that is done I shall bring Miss Ottley here. She knows your voice. You will speak to her. Do you see daylight now?" "I begin." "That is well. You will inform the lady that you are dead, but that your spirit is held in durance vile at my command. Like all other women, she is at heart deeply superstitious. She will believe what you say and she will conceive a prodigious respect for my power and ability. You will assure her that I control your fate and that you can only obtain deliverance from unimaginably awful tortures at the price of her consenting to become immediately my wife. Well?" "A pretty plot," said I. "I felt certain it would earn your admiration," he returned. "I marvel at your candour!" "My dear Pinsent," he said, smiling, "complete candour is the privilege of the all-powerful, and that am I--at least in your regard. I can perfectly afford to be perfectly frank with you, because I can compel you to serve me even should you decide to disobey me." "Indeed, and how?"