“We don’t need it!” declared Godfrey confidently, as he arose to go.
“We’ve got a chain about Tremaine, Lester, that he can’t break-and we’ll compel Miss Croydon to forge the last rivet.”
But in my dreams that night, I saw him breaking the chains, trampling upon them, hurling them from him. I tried to hold them fast with all my puny strength, for I fancied that, once free, he would sweep over the earth like a pestilence. Then, suddenly, it was not Tremaine but Cecily I was holding; she turned to look at me with a countenance so terrible that it palsied me; her eyes scorched me with a white heat, burnt me through and through. Then she raised her hand and struck me a heavy blow upon the head—again-again—till, blindly, in agony, I loosed my hold of her and fell, fell…
