by Clark South
catch the thing which grew upon the mirror'ssurface.
Slowly, like some wizard's evil phantasmagoria, the glowing lines cametogether. Took form. Painted a figure--
_The figure of the woman in the mirror!_
"That's her!" he cried excitedly. "That's the woman we saw reflectedinstead of Elaine!"
Professor Duchard snapped off the machine beside him. He turned on thelights. Swung around to face his daughter's fiance. His face was grey.Grim lines of worry etched deep into the flesh.
"So that is it!" he said. "That is what he has done to her!"
There was fear in his voice ... living, breathing fear. That anddespair. The despair of utter hopelessness. His shoulders sagged withit. The sparkle had gone out of his eyes.
Mark gripped the old man's arm. Blood lust flamed in his own brown orbs.Every muscle was taut. The cords in his neck stood out like knottedropes.
"What is it?" he demanded savagely. "Is it Vance? What has he done toher?"
Wearily, the scientist pulled his arm away and gestured the other to aseat.
"I shall tell you," he said. "You will not believe me, but I shall tellyou."
"Yes. Go on. I'll decide for myself whether I'll believe you or not."
The professor stared into Mark's eyes.
"How much do you know about time?" he demanded.
* * * * *
"Time?"
"Yes. And time travel."
The younger man shrugged.
"Practically nothing," he admitted. "Oh, I've read a few stories, ofcourse. But that's all. I don't know what the theory of it all is, ifthat's what you mean."
"I thought so." Professor Duchard sighed. "That being the case, there islittle use in my wasting energy trying to give you any realunderstanding of it.
"However, I can tell you this: time is not the immutable thing mostpeople presume it to be. Actually, it is only another dimension. As aresearch physicist, I have for many years been convinced of this."
"You mean that time travel really is possible? That men can betransported into the future or the past--"
The other held up a restraining hand.
"Yes. Time travel _is_ possible, if men could break through into thatother dimension." A pause. "Yet up until tonight, I never believed thatman had found a way to pass that barrier."
"But professor! Think what you're saying! You're telling me that I couldgo back and murder my own grandfather. That I could prevent myself frombeing born--"
Again the elder man sighed.
"I was afraid of this," he said. "I knew you could not understand." Hehesitated. Then: "At any rate, take my word for it that time travel ispossible. Also, I assure you that there are any number of perfectlysound theoretical and practical reasons why you never could hope tomurder your grandparents."
The other brushed the words aside.
"What about Elaine? What's all this got to do with her?"
"Everything. You see, my boy, it is _not_ possible for us to transportour material bodies across time. They cannot bridge the gap. They mustremain in the period in which they are born--"
"But Elaine--"
Never had Mark seen the white-haired savant so solemn. His aged face wasdrawn with worry. Yet there was terrifying self-confidence in his words.
"Elaine," he said quietly, "at this moment is trapped in time!"
* * * * *
There was a moment of stunned silence, then. Mark's brain was spinning.He stared at Professor Duchard through narrowed eyes, half-convincedthat the man was mad. And yet--
"I am not insane," the scientist declared, as if answering an unspokenquestion. "Believe me, my boy, I am not."
"Go on."
"That mirror which Adrian Vance sent to my daughter actually is a crudetime machine. A device for transporting a human soul to another period.Who devised it I cannot say. I believe it is old, and that Vance cameupon it only by chance."
"But it isn't a machine. It's just a mirror--"
"Yet it is the gate through which a mind may be reflected into past orfuture. All that is needed is a focal point. A person to receive thatmind. In this case, Adrian Vance made the focal point one of myancestors, the first Elaine Duchard."
"The first Elaine Duchard!"
"Yes. She was the woman in the picture. And the woman whose image we nowfind imprinted in that devil's mirror."
"But how--"
"You remember how Adrian Vance swore vengeance when Elaine refused tomarry him." The aged savant's voice choked with anger. "This must bewhat he planned. He bought the picture Gustav Jerbette painted of myancestor. Then, by some process, imprinted her portrait in the center ofthis mirror, whose secret he somehow discovered. Apparently the picturedoes not show except at a certain angle. Perhaps only my daughter'scoloring or facial configuration would ordinarily bring it out." Heshrugged. "That I do not know."
Mark nodded slowly. He was breathing hard, his eyes dark with anger.
"At any rate," the other continued, "Elaine tonight looked into themirror. By some accident--an accident Vance had counted on taking placeeventually, of course--, she happened to get exactly the right angle.She saw her ancestor. Her mind flashed back through time, into thatother Elaine Duchard's brain--"
And then, all at once, the old man's iron will cracked.
"She is trapped!" he cried in a voice like the wail of a north windthrough the pines. "She is trapped in the body of that first ElaineDuchard, while her own lies here, a useless, unconscious husk! She willdie, as our ancestor died--"
"What do you mean? How did the first Elaine Duchard die?" Mark was onhis feet, fists clenched.
Professor Duchard sat slumped forward, his face buried in his hands,white hair awry.
"She was a tragic figure," he mumbled. "You saw her picture. You knowhow beautiful she was.
"She came from a minor family of the French nobility, but she loved ayoung Jacobin--a man such as those who, a few years later, overthrew themonarchy and founded the French republic.
"She had another suitor, however. A Baron Morriere. When he learned thatshe was going to marry another, he kidnapped her the night before herwedding. Her lover was present at the time, and was nearly killed tryingto protect her. Later he returned to help her escape from the ChateauMorriere. They succeeded in getting away.
"But the baron's guards tracked them down and murdered them both twodays later. And Gustav Jerbette gained his first renown--he was then buta young student--when he immortalized them by painting his famouspicture, 'Elaine Duchard's Escape'."
"And now Elaine--"
* * * * *
The old man straightened wearily.
"Our Elaine will die," he said. "Her mind will be wiped out when theMorriere pikes stab through my ancestor's body."
"There must be some way of calling her back--"
"If there is, I do not know it." He shook his head. "No. There isnothing we can do."
"We can try!"
Mark's voice rang out like the clang of a great iron bell, echoing withgrim resolve. His tanned jaw jutted hard with determination. His eyesflashed brown fire.
Elaine's father let his hands fall in a hopeless gesture.
"What is there to try, my boy? Elaine's mind is gone, back a hundred andfifty years into the past. Her body lies unconscious in a hospital. Whatcan we do?"
A savage, humorless smile played over the other's lips.
"Earlier this evening you said I was a man of action," he told thesavant tautly. "You said I knew how to handle things I knew about. Well,I think it's time for action. Real action!"
"But what action can we take? What can--"
"Who's responsible for what's happened to Elaine?"
"Responsible? Adrian Vance is responsible, of course. There is too muchevidence for it to be coincidence--"
"Right!" Mark's eyes were black with rage. "That snake planned this. Hesaid he'd get revenge. This"--he gestured toward the mirror--"is hi
s wayof doing it!"
"All this is rather obvious," the scientist commented wearily. "But thefact that Vance is guilty of this atrocity does us no good. Nor does ithelp Elaine--"
"But it will!"
"It will? How?"
The younger man hunched forward tensely.
"We're going to catch that devil and strangle an answer out of him!" hegrated. "We're going to make him tell us how to bring Elaine safely backto 1942!"
"And if he does not