“You, Mrs. Tarbot? You?”
“Yes, I. Did I ever tell you that I spent three years of my life in Paris?”
“No.”
“I did. I was one of the principal assistants of the great Dr. Weismann. When he lived he was the greatest mesmerist, the greatest hypnotist of his day. He accomplished more cures by hypnotism than I can describe to you. Now, the hypnotism of suggestion would, in case of need, cure your husband.”
“But I don’t believe in it, nor, I am sure, does he.”
“You may come to believe in it yet. When you do, send for me, and I will help you. I will do my best for you.”
Barbara promised, feeling as she did so a vague sense of coming trouble. Soon afterwards she took her leave and hurried home as quickly as she could.
CHAPTER XVIII.
“TARBOT WILL TELL ME.”
When Pelham left his wife he went into the Park. It was a foggy evening with frost in the air, and the fog was densest in the Park, as it always is. He walked under the trees watching the gas lamps, which shone feebly through the foggy atmosphere. He did not heed where he was going, his whole soul was absorbed in anxious thought. There were no nervous terrors now visible on his face. He held himself erect, and walked quickly. After a time he stood still under a lamp post, a look of resolution and strength visiting his face.
“I’ll do it,” he said to himself. “I’ll do it, and I won’t waste another moment. The time has come for action, and I will act.”