by Clark South
hall. Into the old man's study.
"Sit down, my boy, and pull yourself together."
Mark dropped into the cool, fragrant depths of a timeworn leather chair.The professor relaxed in another.
"I want you to tell me your story again," Elaine's father said. "Thinkback carefully. Give me every detail."
Slowly, spiritlessly, Mark forced himself to concentrate on thehappenings of the evening. His voice a dull monotone, he again recountedhis story.
"This woman," probed Professor Duchard, his bright blue eyes stabbinginto the other's brown orbs. "Tell me about her. What did she looklike?"
Mark shrugged.
"She was only a reflection in a mirror, professor. It was Elaine.Probably the lighting gave me the illusion of someone else."
"Cease thinking of her as a reflection!" the savant retorted, his voicesuddenly sharp. "You are a newspaperman by trade. You have been trainedto observe closely. I want you to use those powers now. Think of thiswoman as a person. Describe her to to me as if she were one--"
"She looked like Elaine," said Mark, racking his brain for details. "Shelooked just like her. Only different, the way two identical twins aredifferent. You know what I mean, professor? The way a person'sindividual personality sticks out of him in spite of his appearance--"
"Yes. I quite understand."
"Well, that was the way it was with this woman. She was Elaine, but shewasn't. There was something about her that didn't belong to Elaine." Hisbrows knitted. "It seemed as if I'd seen her before, somewhere. Justlike I'd known her, but couldn't remember just when or where."
A pause.
"It was her clothing that made us notice her, though. She wore a redsatin dress with more white ruffles than I ever saw before. She had ared hat, too, with a big plume. Her hair was done in a different stylethan I've ever seen. All fixed up. And she wore gloves that reached toabove her elbow."
He searched his weary mind for more details. Gave it up in despair,
"I don't know, professor. I can't remember any more. She was just like apicture of one of the women attending a Louis XVI ball in France--"
* * * * *
A sudden light sprang into his brown eyes. He stopped short inmid-sentence.
"That's it!" he cried. "I've got it! I know where I saw her before!"
Professor Duchard leaned forward, blue eyes flashing.
"Where?" he demanded. "Hurry, man! Out with it!"
"You've got a picture of her!" Mark exclaimed excitedly. "Right here, inthis study!" He half-rose from the leather chair. Peered into the cornerbehind him.
"It's gone!"
The professor's face was suddenly pale.
"That picture called 'Elaine Duchard's Escape'? The Jerbette? Is thatthe one you mean?"
"That's it. That's the one. Where is it?"
"It is gone," the savant answered grimly. "A genuine painting by GustavJerbette is worth a great deal of money. And I am not a wealthy man.When Adrian Vance offered to buy it--"
"Adrian Vance! That snake! He's the one who gave Elaine the mirror--"
The white-haired scientist was on his feet, his eyes suddenly verybright and cold. The veins stood out at his temples.
"I want to see that mirror!" he rapped. "This is the first time you havementioned that it was he who sent it. Come on!"
Together they hurried down the stairs to the little room where thewedding gifts were on display. Mark started across toward the mirror.The professor's hand shot out. Caught the younger man's arm.
"Stand back!" he cried in a terrible voice. "Do not go near that mirror.Above all, do not pass in front of it!"
Mark stared at the savant open-mouthed. His earlier black despair wasgone, now, replaced by sudden, inexplicable hope.
"Why not? What's wrong?"
The other licked dry lips.
"Nothing, I hope. The chances are a thousand to one that I am wrong.Yet an idea came to me, my boy. An incredible idea, and a horrible one.And if it is right"--he shook his head slowly--"may God have mercy onElaine!"
Carefully, then, they approached the mirror. The professor studied itthrough narrowed eyes from a vantage-point far to one side. At last heturned to Mark.
"Do you notice any defects or flaws in the surface of that glass?" hedemanded.
His daughter's fiance nodded.
"The whole thing's out of kilter, professor."
"How would you describe it? What do you mean by 'out of kilter'?"
* * * * *
Mark considered for a moment. Then:
"The impression I get is that this mirror was _poured_ into a circularform, instead of being cut to shape. And that while it was still molten,something struck it in the center, so that little ripples formed in theglass, all the way from the center to the outer edge."
It was the scientist's turn to nod.
"Precisely my own view."
Moving away, he selected a candlestick and candle from among the giftson display. He handed it to Mark.
"I want you to move this stick in front of that glass," he instructed."However, you must be careful to stand well to one side, so that you,yourself, will not be reflected."
"What's the angle, professor? What do you expect to find? What's wrongwith this mirror?"
The elder man shook his head, moved to a point where he could watch thesurface of the glass.
"I do not know what to expect," he said. "I may be completely on thewrong track."
But his flashing eyes denied the words.
Seething with curiosity and excitement though he was, Mark carefullycarried out his instructions. He moved the candlestick back and forthand up and down until it had been reflected from every inch of themirror. And the farther he progressed, the more excited Elaine's fatherbecame.
"The reflection is perfect!" the old man cried. "It is true! Nowhere isthere a single sign of distortion!"
"Yes. Of course it's true." Mark was a little bewildered. "Why shouldn'tit be? Isn't every looking-glass supposed to throw back a reasonablyexact image?"
"Of course, of course!" The scientist was impatient. "But can you notsee the difference?"
"The difference? What difference?"
"Mark: this is not an ordinary mirror. That is what I mean! It deniesevery law of optics! Glass as full of waves and ripples as thisapparently is should return hideously distorted reflections. Yet it doesnot do so!"
"But what--"
"We shall see. Come on! Bring the mirror to my laboratory."
Hesitating only long enough to throw a tablecloth across the face of theglass, the old man hurried out. Mark strode along in his wake, the heavymirror in his arms. Together, they left the house and followed thebricked path to the little laboratory structure located at the far endof the lot.
"Set it down here, in this rack," the professor instructed, indicatingan easel-like arrangement in one corner. He himself wheeled a strangeelectrical apparatus into position in front of the glass. Then took up aposition behind a large glass screen, and motioned Mark to join him.
"What are you going to do?"
"You shall see!"
* * * * *
The white-haired savant threw a switch. The laboratory's lights wentout. He pressed a button on the control board of the apparatus behindwhich they stood. Leaned forward eagerly, peering through the glassscreen at the mirror. Manipulated dials and levers.
An inexplicable excitement gripped Mark. He had a sudden, unshakableconviction that he and the professor were on the verge of incrediblediscoveries. Discoveries that would lead him to an explanation of thestrange coma that held Elaine in its grim sway.
His brown eyes fastened on the mirror. The next instant they went widewith astonishment.
The glass screen behind which he and the professor were standing wasclearly reflected.
But it was merely an opaque surface! Neither he nor the scientist couldbe seen behind it!
As if reading his mind,
Professor Duchard gave vent to a little laugh.
"'One-way' glass," he explained. "It permits vision in only onedirection." Then the humor went out of his voice. "We may thank God thatscience developed it before we are through."
Again he leaned forward, his eyes on the mirror.
An instant later he leveled a quivering forefinger.
"_Look!_"
There, in the semi-darkness where stood the looking-glass, a weirdfigure was beginning to glow!
Tension flooded through Mark's veins. His fingers knotted into fists.His eyes strained to