“Now—­not a word of who she is in the papers, McCann,” Kennedy was saying, evidently about Elaine.  “You know it wouldn’t sound well for La Coste.  As for that woman—­well, I’ve got the money back.  You can take her off—­make the charge.”

As the house man left with Mary, I handed Craig his bag.  We moved toward the door, and as we stood there a moment with Elaine, he quietly handed over to her the big roll of bills.

She took it, with surprise still written in her big blue eyes.  “Oh—­thank you—­I might have known it was only a blackmail scheme,” she cried eagerly.

Craig held out his hand and she took it quickly, gazing into his eyes.  Craig bowed politely, not quite knowing what to do under the circumstances.

If he had been less of a scientist, he might have understood the look on her face, but, with a nod to me, he turned, and went.

As she looked first at him, then at the paltry ten thousand in her hand, Elaine stamped her little foot in vexation.

“I’m glad I didn’t say anything more,” she cried.  “No—­no—­he shall beg my pardon first—­there!”

CHAPTER XIII

THE DEVIL WORSHIPPERS

Elaine was seated in the drawing room with Aunt Josephine one afternoon, when her lawyer, Perry Bennett, dropped in unexpectedly.

He had hardly greeted them when the butler, Jennings, in his usual impassive manner announced that Aunt Josephine was wanted on the telephone.

No sooner were Elaine and Bennett alone, than Elaine, turning to him, exclaimed impulsively, “I’m so glad you have come.  I have been longing to see you and to tell you about a strange dream I have had.”

“What was it?” he asked, with instant interest.

Leaning back in her chair and gazing before her tremulously, Elaine continued, “Last night, I dreamed that father came to me and told me that if I would give up Kennedy and put my trust in you, I would find the Clutching Hand.  I don’t know what to think of it.”

Bennett, who had been listening intently, remained silent for a few moments.  Then, putting down his tea cup, he moved over nearer to Elaine and bent over her.

“Elaine,” he said in a low tone, his remarkable eyes looking straight into her own, “you must know that I love you.  Then give me the right to protect you.  It was your father’s dearest wish, I believe, that we should marry.  Let me share your dangers and I swear that sooner or later there will be an end to the Clutching Hand.  Give me your answer, Elaine,” he urged, “and make me the happiest man in all the world.”

Elaine listened, and not unsympathetically, as Bennett continued to plead for her answer.

“Wait a little while—­until to-morrow,” she replied finally, as if overcome by the recollections of her weird dream and the unexpected sequel of his proposal.

“Let it be as you wish, then,” agreed Bennett quietly.