I smiled as I smoothed her pillow for her and laid her gently back upon it.

“I can stand that!” I said—­“If somebody who is lost in the dark jeers at me for finding the light, I shall not mind!”

We did not speak much after that—­and when I said good-night to her I also said good-bye, as I knew I should have to leave the yacht early in the morning.

I spent the rest of the time at my disposal in talking to Mr. Harland, keeping our conversation always on the level of ordinary topics.  He seemed genuinely sorry that I had determined to go, and if he could have persuaded me to stay on board a few days longer I am sure he would have been pleased.

“I shall see you off in the morning,”—­he said—­“And believe me I shall miss you very much.  We don’t agree on certain subjects—­but I like you all the same.”

“That’s something!” I said, cheerfully—­“It would never do if we were all of the same opinion!”

“Will you meet Santoris again, do you think?”

This was the same question Catherine had put to me, and I answered it in the same manner.

“I really don’t know!”

“Would you like to meet him again?” he urged.

I hesitated, smiling a little.

“Yes, I think so!”

“It is curious,” he pursued—­“that I should have been the means of bringing you together.  Your theories of life and death are so alike that you must have thoughts in common.  Many years have passed since I knew Santoris—­in fact, I had completely lost sight of him, though I had never forgotten his powerful personality—­and it seemt rather odd to me that he should suddenly turn up again while you were with me—­”

“Mere coincidence,”—­I said, lightly—­“and common enough, after all.  Like attracts like, you know.”

“That may be.  There is certainly something in the law of attraction between human beings which we do not understand,”—­he answered, musingly—­“Perhaps if we did—­”

He broke off and relapsed into silence.

That night, just before going to bed, I was met by Dr. Brayle in the corridor leading to my cabin.  I was about to pass him with a brief good-night, but he stopped me.

“So you are really going to-morrow!” he said, with a furtive narrowing of his eyelids as he looked at me—­“Well!  Perhaps it is best!  You are a very disturbing magnet.”

I smiled.

“Am I?  In what way?”

“I cannot tell you without seeming to give the lie to reason,”—­he answered, brusquely.  “I believe to a certain extent in magnetism—­in fact, I have myself tested its power in purely nervous patients,—­ but I have never accepted the idea that persons can silently and almost without conscious effort, influence others for either malign or beneficial purposes.  In your presence, however, the thing is forced upon me as though it were a truth, while I know it to be a fallacy.”

“Isn’t it too late to talk about such things to-night?” I asked, wishing to cut short the conversation.