“I’m bound to confess,” I concluded, “that my respect for Silva has increased immensely.  He’s impressive; he’s consistent; I almost believe he’s sincere.”

“Have you considered what that belief implies?” asked Godfrey.

“What does it imply?”

“If Silva is sincere,” said Godfrey, slowly; “if he is really what he pretends to be, a mystic, a priest of Siva, intent only on making converts to what he believes to be the true religion, then our whole theory falls to the ground; and Swain is guilty of murder.”

I shivered a little, but I saw that Godfrey was right.

“We are in this dilemma,” Godfrey continued, “either Silva is a fakir and charlatan, or Swain is a murderer.”

“I wish you could have witnessed that horrible scene, as I did,” I broke in; “it would have shaken your confidence, too!  I wish you could have seen his face as he glanced back over his shoulder!  It was fiendish, Godfrey; positively fiendish!  It made my blood run cold.  It makes it run cold now, to remember it!”

“How do you explain all that crystal sphere business, anyway?” asked Simmonds, who had been chewing his cigar perplexedly.  “It stumps me.”

“Lester was hypnotised and saw what Silva willed him to see,” answered Godfrey.  “You’ll remember he sat facing him.”

“But,” I objected, “no one remembers what happens during hypnosis.”

“They do if they are willed to remember.  Silva willed you to remember.  It was cleverly done, and his explanation of the origin of the vision was clever, too.  Moreover, it had some truth in it, for the secret of crystal-gazing is that it awakens the subjective consciousness, or Great Spirit, as Silva called it.  But you weren’t crystal-gazing, to-night, Lester—­you were simply hypnotised.”

“You may be right,” I admitted; “I remember how his eyes stared at me.  But it was wonderful—­I’m more impressed with him than ever.”

“It isn’t the fact that he hypnotised you that bothers me,” said Godfrey, after a moment.  “It’s the fact that he has also hypnotised Miss Vaughan.”

The words startled me.

“You think that’s the reason of her behaviour?” I asked, quickly.

“What other reason can there be?” Godfrey demanded.  “Here we have a girl who thinks herself in danger and summons to her aid the man who loves her and whom, presumably, she loves.  And two days later, when he has been imprisoned for a crime of which she declares it is absurd to suspect him, instead of hastening to him or trying to carry out his wishes, she turns her back on him and deliberately walks into the danger from which, up to that moment, she had shrunk with loathing.  Contrast her behaviour of Saturday, when she declared her faith in Swain and begged your assistance, with her behaviour of yesterday and to-day, when she throws you and Swain aside and announces that she is going to follow Silva—­to become a priestess of Siva.  Do you know what that means, Lester—­to become a priestess of Siva?”