Charles's collection had overflowed even into this room. In the
warm shadows about him were pictures and ornaments, all of which
came from, or had been inspired by, the Far East.

In this Oriental environment lay an inspiration. The terror which
had come into Sir Charles's life, the invisible menace which,
swordlike, hung over him, surely belonged in its eerie quality to
the land of temple bells, of silent, subtle peoples, to the
secret land which has bred so many mysteries. Yes, he must look
into the past, into the Indian life of Sir Charles Abingdon, for
the birth of this thing which now had grown into a shadow almost
tangible.

Benson attended at table, assisted by a dark-faced and very
surly-looking maid, in whom Harley thought he recognized the
housekeeper's bete noire.

When presently both servants had temporarily retired. "You see,
Mr. Harley," began Sir Charles, glancing about his own room in a
manner almost furtive, "I realized to-day at your office that the
history of this dread which has come upon me perhaps went back so
far that it was almost impossible to acquaint you with it under
the circumstances."

"I quite understand."

"I think perhaps I should inform you in the first place that I
have a daughter. Her mother has been dead for many years, and
perhaps I have not given her the attention which a motherless
girl is entitled to expect from her father. I don't mean," he