"She is very calm today, Norman, her only fear seems to be that you will come home tonight and come to her room. I have assured her that you will not, and I think it would be best for you to remain in town and come out in the morning. I will be ready to talk to you then."
After a slight hesitancy Norman agreed. Doctor Wayland hung up the receiver with a sigh of relief.
During that day and far into the night he made many quiet pilgrimages about the house and grounds, only to return to his room in the wee, small hours tired and disheartened. He dropped wearily into a chair. A little later he rose excitedly and began to pace the floor. Abruptly stopping before a wall mirror in one end of the room he gazed sternly at the image reflected, muttering to himself:
"What an old fool you have been to think you could turn burglar, safe-blower, or whatnot, to get into that infernal room. King, old man, there is only one honorable way to do it, and you have the right in your capacity as physician to do that. It is going to be done in the morning."
With a long drawn sigh of relief, he lay down to snatch a few hours of much needed rest. After breakfast the next morning he looked in on Anne, and then went directly to the study. To his surprise he found Dick already there, just removing his gloves.
"Hello, King. How's Anne?" he asked eagerly.
"As well as can be expected, Dick. You are early." Noting the other's haggard looks, he added, "You don't look very fit yourself."
"No. I feel a trifle seedy, but it doesn't make much difference about me. Have you anything to tell me about Anne?"
"Yes, but first of all, Norman, I have a few things to ask you. Will you please. see that we are not disturbed for a short time?"
Norman looked up quickly. Something in the other's face seemed to hold him spellbound for an instant; then he crossed the room, closed the door, and locked it. Coming back, he stood with his back to the great fireplace. Wayland suddenly leaned across the back of the massive leather chair that stood between them, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light as they seemed to bore into the very soul of the man before him. Then, with upraised finger, he demanded:
"Norman, tell me, man to man-what have you locked in that wing chamber?"
A change so sudden, so swift, came over the man under the accusing finger that it almost startled the accuser. Norman's face changed from a healthy glow to a sickly pallor, his eyes protruded, and his jaw dropped.
Wayland stepped quickly around the chair that separated them. Grasping the other's shoulder with an iron grip, he shook him roughly. Then, with that accusing finger close to the livid face, every word coming like the rip of a saw, he almost shouted:
"Answer me this: What woman wouldn't have lost her mind, or have gone raving mad, when she learned that the husband she loved and respected had enthroned within a gorgeous room the skeleton of his former wife? That the love and caresses that should have been her right were bestowed upon this hideous thing; that the jewels she should I have worn were hung about that gruesome neck; that the beautiful gowns that should have been hers were hung upon those rattling bones-God, man! is it any wonder that she goes raving mad at the sight of you, when you dare to come to her after spending hours with that thing of horror? When she knows this, is it any wonder that she acts like a mad woman at the sight of you?"
The man in his grasp had grown limp and had fallen to his knees. The hot stinging words of his one-time friend had rushed upon him like a simoon. There was no thought of denial within him. He merely groveled at the feet of the stronger man until Wayland raised him and thrust him into the big chair. For a moment he sat like one in a stupor; then, opening his eyes like one awaken ing from a deep sleep, he at last made an attempt to regain his poise.
"You-you gave me quite a fright, Wayland. What are you talking about? Have you gone mad?"
Wayland laughed-a laugh that was not pleasant to hear.
"All right, Norman; if I am not right, of course you will take me into that room and show me what is in there."
"Why, yes, of course I will some day. But right now I haven't the combination. I'll get it out of my vault tomorrow."
"Oh, no, you won't, Norman. You have it right here." He touched his forehead lightly. "Don't lie to me. It only makes matters worse. You may as well take me in there now and confide in me. I'll do my best to help you. If you don't, I shall lose no time in having you committed to an asylum."
Norman bounded to his feet, his strength returning with the horror that came over him.
"For God's sake, no! Anything but that, Wayland. Oh, you don't understand. You can't understand. I'm not insane-I-oh-you-you-don't know what you are saying. You can't force me there. I have money-I-"
"Yes, you have money," the other interrupted stonily, "but this is one time your money won't buy a way out." For a moment Norman stared unbelieving; then, like a man shaking with the palsy, he took a few steps towards the door behind the bookcase, and, raising a shaking hand, he motioned the doctor to follow. Before he stooped to work the combination, he spoke again haltingly.
"You won't tell what you see in this room, King, for old times' sake-for Anne's sake."
"I promise, but of course there will be conditions."
Norman bowed submissively; he knew that worse than death awaited him if he did not do as this man bid him. He fumbled the combination. After a second attempt the massive door swung wide, and Wayland pushed the man before him. He had no intention of being caught in any kind of trap.
Switch on the lights," he commanded.
Norman complied, but instead of the brilliant lighting Wayland had expected there was only a warm red glow that came from colored globes at both ends of the room. It took him some time to accustom his eyes to the change, but when he was able to see clearly, he was surprised at the change that had taken place in the man before him. He had seemingly forgotten the doctor's presence and stood with outstretched arms before the massive white and gold bed.
"Camille, my darling, I'm here."
For a full moment he stood so; then, stooping, he gathered into his arms a thing of rattling bones clothed in the finest of lace-trimmed and silken lingerie. Long flowing sleeves fell from the dangling arms.
Wayland crept closer, unseen. He noted that the bones were threaded together with tiny silver links. Upon the head was a wig of golden curls held in place by a costly boudoir cap.
Norman raised it tenderly in his arms and placed it in a huge arm-chair which stood under a rose-shaded lamp in the center of the room.
'Dearest, don't blame me for staying. away last night," he murmured. "See what I have brought you?"
He drew from his pocket a tiny leather case and took from it a ring set with a single pearl. He slipped it on the gruesome
