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Bruce and Elinor were inspecting the rooms on the other side of the studio, and had passed out of sight behind the second doorway. Patricia forgot her censorship as the spirit of the explorer rose in her. Judith's dismayed exclamation cut short her account of the activities at Greycroft. "It's a blessing we finished ourselves up to the last notch at home," said Patricia, with wide eyes of dismay for the throngs at the two mirrors. "We haven't a chance to get a peep here, unless we stay all night. Is my headpiece on all right, Elinor? I feel all askew after that crush.".

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Patricia gave a gasp. "But he wore a turban and great whiskers!" she said, impulsively. "How in the world could you stand that?" Patricia held Judith close, with her own heart beating tumultuously to the rhythm of the storm. Hard rattling drops castinetted at the glass, beating an accompaniment to the roar of the racing clouds. For a moment all was black, then, as the whirling cloud masses swept apart, the pelting drops lulled and a gray twilight full of ominous murmurs filled the place. Before Patricia could frame the swift thought that the storm was passing, darkness swept over them again, and the fierce scream of the relentless wind tore at the corners of the barn. The rain beat, deluged, engulfed the out-of-doors; it drummed gayly with diminishing ferocity; then it roared sullenly, flooding the rain spouts to bursting; it raged again, with the scream of the wind growing higher, and snapping branches flung themselves past the gray squares of the windows, flying leaves pasted wet green blurs on the streaming glass. Judith shuddered. "Mean? Death without the addition of life. That word was brought in solely to render the prophecy--if it may be called so--confusing. Etwald was in love with Miss Dallas. He found in Maurice a formidable rival. He warned him by his pretended prophecy that he should slay him if he persisted standing in his path. Maurice announced his engagement upon the very day when Etwald, the designing scoundrel, went to pay his addresses to the girl. From that moment he doomed Maurice to death. Yes, I truly believe that such was his design, and that he offered to buy the devil-stick in order to carry out his criminal intention." "The third Richmond who is in the field," scoffed Maurice. "Well, he has as good a chance as you. Dido supports his pretensions; Mrs. Dallas is your champion. As for me, I have the love of Isabella, so I'm afraid of nothing.".