They all laughed,--even Denzil Murray's sullen features cleared
for the moment into the brightness of a smile.

"Where did you paint the Princess's picture?" inquired Ross
Courtney suddenly.

"In her own house," replied Gervase. "But we were not alone, for
the fascinating fair one had some twenty or more armed servants
within call." There was a movement of surprise among his
listeners, and he went on: "Yes; Madame is very well protected, I
assure you,--as much so as if she were the first favorite in a
harem. Come now, and see my sketch."

He led the way to a private sitting-room which he had secured for
himself in the hotel at almost fabulous terms. It was a small
apartment, but it had the advantage of a long French window which
opened out into the garden. Here, on an easel, was a canvas with
its back turned towards the spectator.

"Sit down," said Gervase abruptly addressing his guests, "and be
prepared for a curiosity unlike anything you have ever seen
before!" He paused a moment, looking steadily at Dr. Dean.
"Perhaps, Doctor, as you are interested in psychic phenomena, you
may be able to explain how I got such a face on my canvas, for I
cannot explain it to myself."

He slowly turned the canvas round, and, scarcely heeding the
exclamation of amazement that broke simultaneously from all the
men present, stared at it himself, fascinated by a singular