To his insistent “Have I made you understand?” she returned a wan wraith of a smile, pitiful with entreaty, while one of her hands found the way to his.
“I think so,” she replied in halting apology—“at least, I believe you. But be a little patient with me. It is all so new and strange, what you tell me, it’s hard at first to grasp, there’s so much I must accept on faith alone, so much I don’t understand ...”
“I know.” Lanyard pressed her hand gently.
“But try to have faith; I promise you it shall be fairly rewarded. Only a little longer now, an hour or two at most, and Karslake will be here to prove the truth of all I have asserted. You will believe him, at least.”
“Of course,” the girl said, simply. “I love him. You knew that?”
“I guessed, and I am glad, glad for both of you.”
“But he is safe?” Sofia demanded in sudden access of alarm so strong that her voice rose above the pitch of discretion.
“Quietly. Yes, he is safe enough.”
“You know that for a fact? How do you know—?”
“I’ve seen him to-night, talked with him—not two hours since.”
“You have been in London?” she questioned—“to-night?”
“Rather! Victor sent me.” Lanyard laughed lightly. “You didn’t know, of course, but—well, I gave him reason to suspect me, so he sent me up to be assassinated by Shaik Tsin. As it turned out, however, Herr Sturm most obligingly understudied for me.... Before coming back, I looked Karslake up. He’d been busy, playing a lone hand, ever since Victor trumped up an errand to keep him out of your way all day. No need to go into tedious details; I found Karslake had matters well in hand: the gas works surrounded by a cordon of troops, the house under close watch, and—best of all—a sworn confession from an Irish Member of Parliament whom Victor had managed to buy with a promise to free Ireland once Soviet England was an accomplished fact. So I left Karslake to wind up loose ends in London, and posted back with my heart in my mouth for fear I’d be too late.”
“Too late?” Sofia queried with arching brows.
“Need I remind you where we are?”
A sweep of Lanyard’s hand indicated the boudoir; and Sofia started sharply in perplexity and alarm.
“Where we are!” she echoed in a frightened whisper.
Of a sudden memory returned of what had passed in that room before Lanyard had revealed himself to her, and knowledge of her peril so narrowly escaped drove home like a knife to her heart.
“What am I doing here?” she breathed in horror. “What have I done?”
“Nothing more dreadful than prove yourself as true as you are fine, by revolting in the end against the most powerful force known to man, the force of suggestion implanted in hypnotism. You couldn’t know that it was hypnotic not natural sleep you passed into last night, when Victor tricked you with that damned crystal, or that, while you slept, he willed you to do here to-night what, when it came to the final test, your nature would not let you do.”