Pat was by no means as buoyant as she had been in the morning. She
approached the appointed meeting place with a feeling of trepidation
that all her arguments could not subdue.
She surveyed the crowded walks of the park with relief; she felt
confirmed in her assumption that nothing unpleasant could occur with
so many on-lookers. So she approached the bench with somewhat greater
self-assurance than when she had left the house.
She saw the seat with its lone occupant, and hastened her steps.
Nicholas Devine was sitting exactly as he had on that other occasion,
chin cupped on his hands, eyes turned moodily toward the vast lake
that coruscated now with the reflection of stars and many lights. As
before, she moved close to his side before he looked up, but here the
similarity of the two occasions vanished. Her fears were realized; she
was looking into the red-gleaming eyes and expressionless features of
his other self--the demon of Saturday evening!
"Sit down!" he said as a sardonic half-smile twisted his lips. "Aren't
you pleased? Aren't you thrilled to the very core of your being?"
Pat stood irresolute; she controlled an impulse to break into sudden,
abandoned flight. The imminence of the crowded walks again reassured
her, and she seated herself gingerly on the extreme edge of the bench,
staring at her companion with coolly inimical eyes. He returned her
gaze with features as immobile as carven stone; only his red eyes gave
evidence of the obscene, uncanny life behind the mask.
"Well?" said Pat in as frigid a voice as she could muster.
"Yes," said the other surveying her. "You are quite as I recalled you.
Very pretty, almost beautiful, save for a certain irregularity in your
features. Not unpleasant, however." His eyes traveled over her body;
automatically she drew back, shrinking away from him. "You have a
seductive body," he continued. "A most seductive body; I regret that
circumstances prevented our full enjoyment of it. But that will come.
Yes, that will come!"
"Oh!" said Pat faintly. It took all her determination to remain seated
by the side of the horror.
"You were extremely attractive as I attired you Saturday," the other
proceeded. His lips took on a curious sensual leer. "I could have
done better with more time; I would have stripped you somewhat more
completely. Everything, I think, except your legs; I am pleased by
the sight of long, straight, silk-clad legs, and should perhaps have
received some pleasure by running these hands along them--scratching
at proper intervals for the aesthetic effect of blood. But that too
will come."
The girl sprang erect, gasping and speechless in outraged anger. She
turned abruptly; nothing remained of her determination now. She felt
only an urge to escape from the sneering tormentor who had lost in her
mind all connection with her own Nicholas Devine. She took a sudden
step.
"Sit down!" She heard the tones of the entity behind her, flat,
unchanged. "Sit down, else I'll drag you here!"
She paused in sheer surprise, turning a startled face on the other.
"You wouldn't dare!" she said, amazed at the bald effrontery of the
threat. "You don't dare touch me here!"
The other laughed. "Don't I? What have I to risk? _He_'ll suffer for
any deed of mine! You'll call for aid against me and only loose the
hounds on _him_."
Pat stared blankly at the evil face. She had no answer; for once her
ready tongue found no retort.
"Sit down!" reiterated the other, and she dropped dazedly to her
position on the bench. She turned dark questioning eyes on him.
"Do you see," he sneered, "how weakening an influence is this love of
yours? To protect him you are obeying me; this is my authority over
you--this body I share with him!"
She made no reply; she was making a desperate effort to lash her mind
into activity, to formulate some means of combating the being who
tortured her.
"It has weakened him, too," the other proceeded. "This disturbed
love of his has taken away the mastery which birth gave him, and his
enfeeblement has given that mastery to me. He knows now the reason for
his weakness; I tell it to him too late to harm me."
Pat struggled for composure. The very presence of the cold demon tore
at the roots of her self-control, and she suppressed a fierce desire to
break into hysterical laughter. Ridiculous, hopeless, incomprehensible
situation! She forced her quivering throat to husky speech.
"What--what are you?" she stammered.
"Synapse! I'm a question of synapses," jeered the other. "Simple! Very
simple! Ask your friend the Doctor!"
"I think," said the girl, a measure of control returning to her voice,
"that you're a devil. You're some sort of a fiend that has managed to
attach itself to Nick, and you're not human. That's what I think!"
"Think what you please," said the other. "We're wasting time here," he
said abruptly. "Come."
"Where?" Pat was startled; she felt a recurrence of fright.
"No matter where. Come."
"I won't! Why do you want me?"
"To complete the business of Saturday night," he said. "Your lips have
healed; they bleed no longer, but that is easy to remedy. Come."
"I won't!" exclaimed the girl in sudden panic. "I won't!" She moved as
if to rise.
"You forget," intoned the being beside her. "You forget the authority
vested in me by virtue of this love of yours. Let me convince you." He
stretched forth a thin hand. "Move and you condemn your sweetheart to
the punishment you threaten me."
He seized her arm, pinching the flesh brutally, his nails breaking the
smooth skin. Pat felt her face turn ashy pale; she closed her eyes
and bit her nearly-healed lips at the excruciating pain, but she made
not the slightest sound nor the faintest movement. She simply sat and
suffered.
"You see!" sneered the other, releasing her. "Thank my kindly nature
that I marked your arm instead of your face. Shall we go?"
A scarcely audible whimper of pain came from the girl's lips. She sat
palled and unmoving, with her eyes still closed.
"No," she murmured faintly at last. "No. I won't go with you."
"Shall I drag you?"
"Yes. Drag me if you dare."
His hand closed on her wrist; she felt herself jerked violently to her
feet, so roughly that it wrenched her shoulder. A startled, frightened
little cry broke from her lips, and then she closed them firmly at the
sight of several by-passers turning curious eyes on them.
"I'll come," she murmured. The glimmering of an idea had risen in her
chaotic mind.
She followed him in grim, bitter silence across the clipped turf to the
limit of the park. She recognized Nick's modest automobile standing
in the line of cars along the street; her companion, or captor, moved
directly towards it, opened the door and clambered in without a single
backward glance. He turned about and watched her as she paused with
one diminutive foot on the running board, and rubbed her hand over her
aching arm.
"Get in!" he ordered coldly.