“Perhaps,” said Benita, who was in no mood for philosophical argument.  “Perhaps also one day you will see a spirit, Mr. Meyer, and think otherwise.”

“When I see a spirit and know that it is a spirit, then doubtless I shall believe in spirits.  But what is the good of talking of such things?  I do not seek spirits; I seek Portuguese gold.  Now, I am sure you can tell where that gold lies.  You would have told us last night, had not your nervous strength failed you, who are unaccustomed to the state of trance.  Speaking as Benita da Ferreira, you said that you saw it and described its condition.  Then you could, or would, say no more, and it became necessary to waken you.  Miss Clifford, you must let me mesmerize you once again for a few minutes only, for then we will waste no time on past histories, and we shall find the gold.  Unless, indeed,” he added by an afterthought, and looking at her sharply, “you know already where it is; in which case I need not trouble you.”

“I do not know, Mr. Meyer.  I remember nothing about the gold.”

“Which proves my theory.  What purported to be the spirit of Benita da Ferreira said that it had passed the secret on to you, but in your waking state you do not know that secret.  In fact, she did not pass it on because she had no existence.  But in your sub-conscious state you will know.  Therefore I must mesmerize you again.  Not at once, but in a few days’ time, when you have quite recovered.  Let us say next Wednesday, three days hence.”

“You shall never mesmerize me again, Mr. Meyer.”

“No, not while I live,” broke in her father, who had been listening to this discussion in silence.

Jacob bowed his head meekly.

“You think so now, but I think otherwise.  What I did last night I did against your will, and that I can do again, only much more easily.  But I had rather do it with your will, who work not for my own sake only, but for the sake of all of us.  And now let us talk no more of the matter, lest we should grow angry.”  Then he rose and went away.

The next three days were passed by Benita in a state of constant dread.  She knew in herself that Jacob Meyer had acquired a certain command over her; that an invincible intimacy had sprung up between them.  She was acquainted with his thoughts; thus, before he asked for it, she would find herself passing him some article at table or elsewhere, or answering a question that he was only about to ask.  Moreover, he could bring her to him from a little distance.  Thus, on two or three occasions when she was wandering about their prison enclosure, as she was wont to do for the sake of exercise, she found her feet draw to some spot—­now one place and now another—­and when she reached it there before her was Jacob Meyer.

“Forgive me for bringing you here,” he would say, smiling after his crooked fashion, and lifting his hat politely, “but I wish to ask you if you have not changed your mind as to being mesmerized?”