mother. She got up hastily and went over to her cousin. She put on the bed-lamp, and abruptly the struggle ceased. Then she caught hold of Monica's wrist, feeling for her pulse; it beat so slowly, so faintly, that Alice ran from the room in alarm to summon the doctor.
She pounded on the doors of her parents' rooms as she passed, waking them. Her mother met her in the hall as she returned from the telephone.
"Whatever's the matter, Alice?"
"Monica," she said. "I think she's—sinking."
The older woman gave a startled gasp and turned to her husband, who had just come up. Alice did not hear what her mother said. She hurried on into the room, where her parents joined her. The doctor, who lived only a few doors away, and who had not yet gone to bed, arrived in a few minutes. Alice let him in.
"How is she?" he asked, as soon as he entered the house.
"Dying, I think."
The doctor murmured deprecatingly and hurried upstairs. He made a rapid examination and tried to be cheerful.
"How is she?" Mrs. Fraser kept asking.
At last he said reluctantly, "I'm afraid she's sinking, but I can't be sure." He shot a stimulant into Monica's arm and turned to the three who were watching him. "If she comes out of that, there's a chance." But his eyes looking at Alice, said, "She'll never come out of that!"
Mrs. Fraser came forward. "But what is it, Doctor? Surely you can tell us what ails her?"
The doctor hesitated. "I hate to admit that I don't know, but I don't. There's something very strange about this case—something that puzzles me very much. That girl's strength leaving her like that is beyond my understanding. Physically she's as sound as can be, except for that. You know," he turned directly to the older woman, "it's almost as if something in the air were draining her life-blood, and if we could get our hands on it, if we could touch it, destroy it, then perhaps" he ended suddenly.
Aunt Susan had gone abruptly pale.
"There was a case like this in my predecessor's time, I understand," continued the doctor. "A woman, too. Got weaker and weaker until she died."
But Mrs. Fraser waited to hear no more. In a faint voice she moaned, "The mask!" Then she ran from the room, and in a few moments the door of the closed room could be heard opening.
Henry said, "She's gone after that mask, Alice!" His voice was unnaturally harsh.
Alice nodded.
The doctor did not understand. "What is it?" he asked.
There was a sudden, terrifying cry from the adjoining room. Henry made for the door, but before he could reach it, it was thrown open and Mrs. Fraser appeared on the threshold, clinging weakly to the knob with one hand. In the other she held the yellow mask.
"Look," she gasped. "She wore it, she had it on!"
The mask dangled from her hand, swinging slowly from side to side, its sightless eyes like those of a living thing. Gone was its faded color, gone its air of age. It was of a rich, lustrous yellow color, so vital that its red lips seemed to quiver in breathing. And evil hung about it like a sentient cloud.
Wrathfully Henry sprang forward, snatching the mask from his wife's hands. Then he tore it squarely across, and across again. But even as he tore it, he felt other hands than his flailing helplessly in the air about the mask, felt cold frail hands descending from above, and the hovering presence of someone he could not see.
