"Merciful God!" muttered Robert Cairn, "Merciful God, can such things be!"
"They can be—they are! Two ways have occurred to me of dealing with the matter," continued Dr. Cairn quietly. "One is to find that cavern and to kill, in the occult sense, by means of a stake, the vampire who lies there; the other which, I confess, might only result in the permanent 'possession' of Lady Lashmore—is to get at the power which controls this disembodied spirit—kill Antony Ferrara!"
Robert Cairn went to the sideboard, and poured out brandy with a shaking hand.
"What's his object?" he whispered.
Dr. Cairn shrugged his shoulders.
"Lady Lashmore would be the wealthiest widow in society," he replied.
"He will know now," continued the younger man unsteadily, "that you are up against him. Have you—"
"I have told Lord Lashmore to lock, at night, not only his outer door but also that of his dressing-room. For the rest—?" he dropped into an easy-chair,—"I cannot face the facts, I—"
The telephone bell rang.
Dr. Cairn came to his feet as though he had been electrified; and as he raised the receiver to his ear, his son knew, by the expression on his face, from where the message came and something of its purport.