black eyes fixed upon him, and was painfully aware of their owner's
presence, so much so, that in a whisper, he asked her name of Miss
Ogilvy.

"Oh!" she answered, "that is Madame Riennes, the noted mesmerist and
medium."

"Indeed," said Godfrey in a vague voice, for he did not quite
understand what was meant by this description.

Also there was a thin, elderly American gentleman to whom Godfrey was
introduced, named Colonel Josiah Smith, and a big, blond Dane, who
talked English with a German accent, called Professor Petersen. All of
these studied Godfrey with the most unusual interest as, overwhelmed
with shyness, he was led by Miss Ogilvy to make their acquaintance. He
felt that their demeanour portended he knew not what, more at any rate
than hope of deriving pleasure from his society; in fact, that they
expected to get something out of him. Suddenly he recollected a
picture that once he had seen in a pious work which he was given to
read on Sundays. It represented a missionary being led by the hand by
a smiling woman into the presence of some savages in a South Sea
island, who were about to cook and eat him.

In the picture a large pot was already boiling over a fire in the
background. Instinctively Godfrey looked for the pot, but saw none,
except one of the flowers which stood on a little table in a recess,
and round it half a dozen chairs, one of them large, with arms. Had he
but known it, that chair was the pot.

No sooner had he made his somewhat awkward bow than luncheon was