“Yes.  I made up my mind that I would—­that, if it existed, I would have absolute proof of it.  The countess and her brother had scoffed so frequently, had promised the baron so often that they would set a servant on guard in the corridor to watch, and then had said so often to poor, foolish, easily persuaded Athalie that it was useless doing anything so silly, as it was absolutely certain that her father only imagined the thing, that I—­I determined to take the step myself, unknown to any of them.  After everybody had gone to bed, I threw on a loose, dark gown, crept into the corridor, and hid in a niche from which I could see the door of the baron’s room.  I waited until after midnight—­long after—­and then—­and then—­”

“Calm yourself, Miss Lorne.  Then the thing appeared, I suppose?”

“Yes; but not before something equally terrible had happened.  I saw the door of the countess’s room open; I saw the countess herself come out, accompanied by the man who up till then I had believed, like everybody else, was her brother.”

“And who is not her brother, after all?”

“No, he is not.  Theirs is a closer tie.  I saw her kiss him.  I saw her go with him to an angle of the corridor, lift a rug, and raise a trap in the floor.”

“Hullo!  Hullo!” ejaculated Cleek.  “Then she, too; knows of the passage which leads to the sewers.  Clearly, then, this Countess de la Tour is not what she seems, when she knows secrets that are known only to the followers of—­well, never mind.  Go on, Miss Lorne, go on.  You saw her lift that trap; and—­what then?”

“Then there came up out of it—­oh, the most loathsome-looking creature I ever saw; a huge, crawling, red shape that was like a blood-red spider, with the eyes, the hooked beak, and the writhing tentacles of an octopus.  It made no sound, but it seemed to know her, to understand her, for when she waved her hand toward the open door of her own room it crawled away and, obeying that gesture, dragged its huge bulk over the threshold, and passed from sight.  Then the man she called her brother kissed her again, and as he descended into the darkness below the trap I heard her say quite distinctly:  ’Tell Marise that I will come as soon as I can; but not to delay the revel.  If I am compelled to forego it to-night, there shall be a wilder one to-morrow, when Clodoche arrives.’”

“Clodoche!  By Jupiter!” Cleek almost jumped as he spoke.  “Now I know the ‘lay’!  No; don’t ask me anything yet.  Go on with the story, please.  What then, Miss Lorne, what then?”

“Then the man below said something which I could not hear—­something to which she answered in these words:  ’No, no; there is no danger.  I will guard it safely, and it shall go into no hands but Clodoche’s.  He and Count von Hetzler will be there about midnight to-morrow to complete the deal and pay over the money.  Clodoche will want the fragment, of course, to show to the count