"Ah! Ah!" sighed the Countess. "He is on his way to you," went on Navarro. "The despatches are for you. One of them is in a cipher. It relates to your recall. It----" But the Count on that instant dropped Navarro's hands as if they had burnt him and abruptly rose up, the picture of agitation. He turned and looked at the Countess. She stood up, most agitated, too. "My friends," he began. But the Countess said "Hush!" He bowed to her, bowed to Lady Helen and offered his wife a shaking arm. They forthwith left the room. It was most dramatic. For a little while everybody sat under a sort of spell. I was glad, because I felt disinclined to break up the party by expressing my views on Navarro's revelation, and if any one had said a word I should have been compelled to speak, I was so angry that sensible people could allow themselves to be imposed upon so easily. Moreover, I wished to learn what Miss Ottley's object was. When, therefore, Mrs. Greaves quietly arose and moved to the couch, I said a little prayer of thankfulness. Presently the high falsetto squeaked forth in Irish-Spanish-English. "I see--a large building, square, very tall. It is made of steel and stone. It is in America--in New York. It is a hotel. I see in it a room. There are tables and chairs. Then one--two--three--four--five--six are there. They play cards. The game is poker. One loses. He is young. He is English. He has a little cast in his left eye. His name is Julian Greaves. The floor is littered with cards. Julian Greaves is annoyed because he loses. He----" The voice ceased. Mrs. Greaves was returning to us. She was smiling. She said to Lady Helen in her calm, slow way, "I believe, my dear, that my naughty son is at present occupied exactly as you have heard described. Signor Navarro has a great gift. Good-night, my dear--No, I cannot stay--I promised the Bexleys. Do not trouble----" She had gone. Dixon Hubbard walked over to the couch. I glanced at Lady Helen. She was biting her lower lip--and holding her breath. I stole across the room on tip-toe and sat down beside her. "I see," said Navarro, after the proper interval, "a woman. She is young and very beautiful. (Oh! artful Navarro.) Her mind is deeply troubled. The person she cares most for despises her. On that account she is wretchedly unhappy, although she permits no one to suspect it. She is not far away. She----" But Hubbard had dropped the medium's hand like hot potatoes. "It is your turn, Captain Weldon," he said, with a poor attempt at jocularity. "Step forward and have the secret of your life laid bare." He gave his wife a scorching glance and sauntered out of the room. "How much did you pay Navarro for that last?" I whispered in Lady Helen's ear. She gave me a radiant smile. "Nothing to call me beautiful," she whispered back.