THE EVIL SPIRIT
Penelope sprang up from the divan panting with anger. Her hair was
dishevelled. Her bare shoulders gleamed in the shadows. She glared at
Seraphine.
"How dare you come in here?" she demanded insolently. "What do you want
here?"
With a smile of infinite compassion Mrs. Walters approached like a
loving mother. "My child! My dear child!" she said tenderly.
But the mad young creature repulsed her. "No, no! I hate you! Go away!"
The newcomer turned reassuringly to Captain Herrick. "I am Penelope's
friend--Seraphine."
"Ha! Seraphine! I am Fauvette! What do I care for you?" The frantic one
snapped her fingers at the other woman.
"Penelope!" pleaded Christopher, shocked at her violence.
She turned on him in fury. "You fool! You wouldn't take the chance I
offered you."
"I will quiet her," said Mrs. Walters to Herrick. "Don't be alarmed."
"You can't quiet me. I'll say anything I damn please. Go on, quiet me!
Quiet Fauvette! I'd like to see you do it. Ha, ha, ha!" Her wild
laughter rang through the apartment.
Christopher's face was tense with alarm and distress. "What can I do?
What is the matter with her?" he appealed to Seraphine.
"She is ill. She is not herself," was the grave reply. "I'll call Dr.
Owen; I'll tell him to come at once."
He hurried out of the room and the two women faced each other.
Fauvette sank back on the divan and lay there in sullen defiance. "Now
we're alone--you and I. What are you going to do about it?" was her
harsh challenge.
The psychic did not answer, but her lips moved as if in prayer; then she
spoke sternly, her deep eyes widening: "I see your scarlet lights, your
sinister face."
From the shadowy corner Fauvette sneered: "I see your soft, sentimental
Christmas card face. I'm not afraid of you. I laugh at you." And peals
of shrill, almost satanic, laughter rang through the room.
Seraphine advanced slowly, holding out her hands.
"I know your ways, creature of darkness. I command you to leave this
pure body that you would defile."
And fierce the answer came: "No! Damn you! You are not strong enough to
drive me out."
"Think of the tortures you are preparing for yourself."
"Don't you worry about my tortures."
"Have pity on Penelope. It will be counted in your favor."
There were snarling throat-sounds, then these menacing words: "No! I'm
going to put Penelope out of business."
"Where is Penelope now?"
"She is sleeping. Poor nut!"
"She knows nothing about Fauvette?"
"Nothing."
"She remembers nothing that Fauvette says?"
"Nothing."
There was a long silence in the darkened room while Seraphine prayed.
"You know very well that Dr. Leroy can drive you out," she said
presently.
"He can't do it. Let him try. Nobody can drive me out. Besides, you
won't get Dr. Leroy."
"Why not?"
"This other doctor won't have him."
"Dr. Owen?"
"Yes. I know damned well how to fix him. I'll tell him some things that
will make him sit up and take notice."
"How do you mean you will fix him?"
"Never mind. You'll see. If I can't have Herrick, Penelope is _never_
going to have him."
The medium closed her eyes and seemed to listen. "You mean Penelope will
never have him because of something you are going to tell Dr.
Owen--something about--about chemistry?" she groped for the word.
"Ye-es," unwillingly.
"Dr. Owen will not believe you."
"He _will_ believe me."
"No!" declared Seraphine dreamily. "There are greater powers than you
fighting for Penelope."