“Why, that is one of the old tower's
greatest charms," he says. “It belongs
to the dark ages, and suggests all sorts
of horrible possibilities. This room
would be nothing without its myster
ious lock.”
At this moment Dora's eyes turn
slowly toward Arthur Dynecourt. She
herself hardly knows why, at this par
ticular time, she should look at him,
yet she feels that some unaccountable
fascination is compelling her gaze to
encounter his. Their eyes meet. As
they do so, Dora shudders and turns
deadly pale. There is that in Arthur
Dynecourt"s dark and sullen eyes that
strikes her cold with terror and vague
forebodings of evil. It is a wicked look
that overspreads the man’s face—a
cruel, implacable look that seems to
freeze her as she gazes at him spell
bound. Slowly, even while she watches
him, she sees him turn his glance from
her to Sir Adrian in a meaning man
ner, as though to let her know that the
vile thought that is working in his
brain and is betraying itself on his face
is intended for him. not her. And yet,
with this too, he gives her silently to
understand that, if she shows any
treachery toward him, he will not leave
it unrewarded.
Cowed, frightened, trembling at
what she knows not, Dora, staggers
backward, and, laying a hand upon
the wall beside her,’tries to regain self
possession. The others ar • all talking
together, she is therefore unobserved.
She stands, still panting and pallid,
trying to collect her thought ?.
