Did you
come up on the elevated?"
"Yes," I answered; and I felt Godfrey turn suddenly in his chair, at
the sound of my voice, and scrutinise my face. "I had dinner in town
and came up afterwards."
"What time was that?" asked Godfrey, quietly.
"I got up here about eight o'clock. I had an engagement with Miss
Vaughan."
"You have been with her since?"
"With her and Silva," and I dropped into a chair and mopped my face
with my handkerchief. "The experience was almost too much for me," I
added, and told them all that had occurred.
They listened, Godfrey motionless and intent, and Simmonds with a
murmur of astonishment now and then.
"I'm bound to confess," I concluded, "that my respect for Silva has
increased immensely. He's impressive; he's consistent; I almost
believe he's sincere."
"Have you considered what that belief implies?" asked Godfrey.
"What does it imply?"
"If Silva is sincere," said Godfrey, slowly; "if he is really what he
pretends to be, a mystic, a priest of Siva, intent only on making
converts to what he believes to be the true religion, then our whole
theory falls to the ground; and Swain is guilty of murder.
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