Page:Doughty--Mirrikh or A woman from Mars.djvu/166

 I believe we might have kept on talking indefinitely, had not the sudden cessation of the clicking prayer wheel turned  our attention to Padma, who was in the act of rising from  his knees.

“Speak to him, Doctor!” I whispered. “Beg him to release that poor girl from the hypnotic influence. It breaks my heart to see her so.”

The Doctor tried it in Hindustanee, and if I may believe his assertion, got along splendidly.

“It’s no use to interfere with his plans, George,” he said, after a moment. “He says the girl is all right. He claims that she is a powerful sensitive, and more amazing than all;  he swears—what do you suppose?”

“Don’t keep me in suspense, I beg of you, Doctor.”

“He says he is going to show us Maurice and Mr. Mirrikh in the astral body. We are to see them on their road to Mars.”

“In other words, he is going to hypnotize us again.”

“I’m afraid so, and by the living Cæsar! if he tries it I’ll smash him. Hold on, George! What in thunder is he about? This reminds one strangely of the Black Art!”

Pausing before Walla, Padma was tracing about her on the stone floor an imaginary circle, using for the purpose  a slender brass rod, which he drew from beneath his cloak.

He made no effort to disturb us; not even by those now dreaded mesmeric passes, but kept his eyes steadily fixed  upon the stones, as he slowly walked three times about the  girl, chanting in a low voice.

Why did we not interfere?

Do not ask me. We could not. Put it down to cowardice if you wish, but I hold the occult influences which seemed  to pervade the place, responsible for it. We did not—that is enough.

Now our whole attention seemed to concentrate itself on the old lama, with an intensity which banished all other thoughts.

He moved away to a distant part of the room, and though I tried to follow him with my eyes, I found I could not, for they were closed as though by a hand drawn suddenly down  over my forehead. I want it distinctly understood that I felt the touch of this hand—that it was real and no way the  outgrowth of my imagination. The Doctor had the same experience, only he swore afterward that the hand which