“Then give me that soul of yours, if you please,” he said. “He is quite safe and peacefully asleep. You must have grown a little nervous while I was away.” CHAPTER X Unorna let herself sink into a chair. She stared almost vacantly at Keyork, then glanced uneasily at the motionless specimens, then stared at him again. “Yes,” she said at last. “Perhaps I was a little nervous. Why did you lock me in? I would have gone with you. I would have helped you.” “An accident--quite an accident,” answered Keyork, divesting himself of his fur coat. “The lock is a peculiar one, and in my hurry I forgot to show you the trick of it.” “I tried to get out,” said Unorna with a forced laugh. “I tried to break the door down with a club. I am afraid I have hurt one of your specimens.” She looked about the room. Everything was in its usual position, except the body of the African. She was quite sure that when she had head that unearthly cry, the dead faces had all been turned towards her. “It is no matter,” replied Keyork in a tone of indifference which was genuine. “I wish somebody would take my collection off my hands. I should have room to walk about without elbowing a failure at every step.” “I wish you would bury them all,” suggested Unorna, with a slight shudder. Keyork looked at her keenly. “Do you mean to say that those dead things frightened you?” he asked incredulously. “No; I do not. I am not easily frightened. But something odd happened--the second strange thing that has happened this evening. Is there any one concealed in this room?” “Not a rat--much less a human being. Rats dislike creosote and corrosive sublimate, and as for human beings----” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “Then I have been dreaming,” said Unorna, attempting to look relieved. “Tell me about him. Where is he?” “In bed--at his hotel. He will be perfectly well to-morrow.” “Did he wake?” she asked anxiously. “Yes. We talked together.” “And he was in his right mind?” “Apparently. But he seems to have forgotten something.” “Forgotten? What? That I had made him sleep?” “Yes. He had forgotten that too.” “In Heaven’s name, Keyork, tell me what you mean! Do not keep me--” “How impatient women are!” exclaimed Keyork with exasperating calm. “What is it that you most want him to forget?” “You cannot mean----” “I can, and I do. He has forgotten Beatrice. For a witch--well, you are a very remarkable one, Unorna. As a woman of business----” He shook his head. “What do you mean, this time? What did you say?” Her questions came in a strained tone and she seemed to have difficulty in concentrating her attention, or in controlling her emotions, or both. “You paid a large price for the information,” observed Keyork. “What price? What are you speaking of? I do not understand.” “Your soul,” he answered, with a laugh. “That was what you offered to any one who would tell you that the Wanderer was safe. I immediately closed with your offer. It was an excellent one for me.”