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"Where is he?"

She paled and clasped her hands tighter:

"I – I thought – I had every reason to believe that he was in New York. B-but he isn't. He is in St. Augustine!"

"You evidently don't wish to meet him."

"No – oh, no, I don't wish to meet him – ever!"

"Oh. Am I to understand that this – this fellow," he said fiercely, "is following you?"

"I don't know – oh, I really don't know," she said, her blue eyes wide with apprehension. "All I know is that I do not desire to see him – or to have him see me… He must not see me; it must not be – it shall not be! I – it's a very terrible thing; – I don't know exactly what I'm – I'm fighting against – because it's – it's simply too dreadful – "

Emotion checked her, and for a moment she covered her eyes with her gloved hands, sitting in silence.

"Can't I help you?" he asked gently.

She dropped her hands and stared at him.

"I don't know. Do you think you could? It all seems so – like a bad dream. I'll have to tell you about it if you are to help me – won't I?"

"If you think it best," he said with an inward quiver.

"That's it. I don't know whether it is best to ask your advice. Yet, I don't know exactly what else to do," she added in a bewildered way, passing one hand slowly over her eyes. "Shall I tell you?"

"Perhaps you'd better."

"I think I will!.. I – I left New York in a panic at a few moments' notice. I thought I'd go to Ormond and hide there for a while, and then, if – if matters looked threatening, I could go to Miami and take a steamer for the West Indies, and from there – if necessary – I could go to Brazil – "

"But why?" he demanded, secretly terrified at his own question.

She looked at him blankly a moment: "Oh; I forgot. It – it all began without any warning; and instantly I began to run away."

"From what?"

"From – from the owner of that overcoat!"

"Who is he?"

"His name," she said resolutely, "is George Z. Green. And I am running away from him… And I am afraid you'll think it very odd when I tell you that although I am running away from him I do not know him, and I have never seen him."

"Wh-what is the matter with him?" inquired Green, with a sickly attempt at smiling.

"He wants to marry me!" she exclaimed indignantly. "That is what is the matter with him."

"Are you sure?" he asked, astounded.

"Perfectly. And the oddest thing of all is that I do not think he has ever seen me – or ever even heard of me."

"But how can – "

"I'll tell you. I must tell you now, anyway. It began the evening before I left New York. I – I live alone – with a companion – having no parents. I gave a dinner dance the evening before I – I ran away; – there was music, too; professional dancers; – a crystal-gazing fortune teller – and a lot of people – loads of them."

She drew a short, quick breath, and shook her pretty head.

"Everybody's been talking about the Princess Zimbamzim this winter. So I had her there… She – she is uncanny – positively terrifying. A dozen women were scared almost ill when they came out of her curtained corner.

"And – and then she demanded me… I had no belief in such things… I went into that curtained corner, never for one moment dreaming that what she might say would matter anything to me… In ten minutes she had me scared and trembling like a leaf… I didn't want to stay; I wanted to go. I – couldn't, somehow. My limbs were stiff – I couldn't control them – I couldn't get up! All my will power – was – was paralysed!"

The girl's colour had fled; she looked at Green with wide eyes dark with the memory of fear.

"She told me to come to her for an hour's crystal gazing the following afternoon. I – I didn't want to go. But I couldn't seem to keep away.

"Then a terrible thing happened. I – I looked into that crystal and I saw there – saw with my own eyes —myself being married to a – a perfectly strange man! I saw myself as clearly as in a looking glass; – but I could see only his back. He – he wore an overcoat – like that one I gave to you to send back. Think of it! Married to a man who was wearing an overcoat!

"And there was a clergyman who looked sleepy, and – and two strangers as witnesses – and there was I —I!– getting married to this man… And the terrible thing about it was that I looked at him as though I – I l-loved him – "

Her emotions overcame her for a moment, but she swallowed desperately, lifted her head, and forced herself to continue:

"Then the Princess Zimbamzim began to laugh, very horridly: and I asked her, furiously, who that man was. And she said: 'His name seems to be George Z. Green; he is a banker and broker; and he lives at 1008-1/2 Fifth Avenue.'

"'Am I marrying him?' I cried. 'Am I marrying a strange broker who wears an overcoat at the ceremony?'

"And she laughed her horrid laugh again and said: 'You certainly are, Miss Wiltz. You can not escape it. It is your destiny.'

"'When am I to do it?' I demanded, trembling with fright and indignation. And she told me that it was certain to occur within either three months or three days… And – can you imagine my n-natural feelings of horror – and repugnance? Can you not now understand the panic that seized me – when there, all the time in the crystal, I could actually see myself doing what that dreadful woman prophesied?"

"I don't blame you for running," he said, stunned.

"I do not blame myself. I ran. I fled, distracted, from that terrible house! I left word for my maid to pack and follow me to Ormond. I caught the first train I could catch. For the next three months I propose to continue my flight if – if necessary. And I fear it will be necessary."

"Finding his overcoat in your stateroom must have been a dreadful shock to you," he said, pityingly.

"Imagine! But when, not an hour ago, I saw his name on the register at the Hotel Royal Orchid —directly under my name!– can you – oh, can you imagine my utter terror?"

Her voice broke and she leaned up against the side of the car, so white, so quivering, so utterly demoralised by fear, that, alarmed, he took her trembling hands firmly in his.

"You mustn't give way," he said. "This won't do. You must show courage."

"How can I show courage when I'm f-frightened?"

"You must not be frightened, because – because I am going to stand by you. I am going to stand by you very firmly. I am going to see this matter through."

"Are you? It is so – so kind of you – so good – so generous… Because it's uncanny enough to frighten even a man. You see we don't know what we're fighting. We're threatened by – by the occult! By unseen f-forces… How could that man be in St. Augustine?"

He drew a long breath. "I am going to tell you something… May I?"

She turned in silence to look at him. Something in his eyes disturbed her, and he felt her little, gloved hands tighten spasmodically within his own.