I had been leaning against a tree, and tried to move; but I could not.  I was like one fastened to the ground.

He laughed scornfully.  “Now do you believe?” he said.

I was silent.

“Yes,” he said, “you may well be silent, for what I say is true.  And now,” he continued, “I promise not to use my power over you on one condition.”

“Name it,” I said.

“I will name it.  It is this.  You must give up all thoughts, all hopes, all designs, of ever winning Gertrude Forrest for your wife.”

“And if I refuse?”

“If you refuse, I shall have to make you do what I would rather you would do willingly.  Think as you will, but she can never be yours.  I do not mind telling you now, for you dare not speak.  I have marked her for my own; and, mark you, she must be mine.  No power shall stop that.  If you presume to speak to her, I will stop you in the act.  If ever you seek to walk with her, I will drag you away from her; nay, more than that, I will make you act in such a way as to make you, to her, an object of derision.”

“But,” I said, “if you possess such a power over me, which I do not admit, I will proclaim to every one in the house the villainous means by which you have possessed it.  I will make you an object of hatred.”

His light eyes gleamed with an unearthly glare.  “Think you I have not thought of that?” he said.  “Try and tell of my influence over you, seek to speak one word against me, and mark the result.  I defy you to utter one word.”

Again I was silent.  I seemed hemmed in on every hand by this man’s terrible power.  “Come,” he said, “do you consent to my terms?  Do you relinquish all thoughts, all hopes, of ever winning Gertrude Forrest?”

In spite of my strange situation, I could not help seeing two rays of light.  One was, that this man must have seen that Miss Forrest looked on me with a degree of favour; and the other was that, if his power was as great as he boasted, he needed not be so anxious to obtain my consent to his terms.  If I were wholly in his power, he could do with me as he would, and need not trouble about any promises of mine.  This led me to defy him still.

“Herod Voltaire,” I said, “villain by your own admission, I do not believe in your power; but, admitting it for the moment, I still refuse to do what you ask me.  You have guessed my secret.  I love Gertrude Forrest with all my heart, and I will promise neither you nor any other man to give up hopes of winning her.  And mark you this, too.  Although by unlawful means you may have obtained mastery over me, as surely as there is a God who cares for men, your power will be broken.  Meanwhile, you may force me to act against my will, but my will you shall never have!”

“Fool, idiot!” he cried, “you shall repent this.  You shall be dragged through mire, dirt, pain, defeat, disgrace, and then, when all is over, you will find I have had my own way!” He made a step towards me.  “Stay there for a quarter of an hour,” he said, “and then you may go where you will.”