Then he stood amidst the débris， and placing his right foot upon what had been the mummy's nose， said mildly：
"Now， Madame， what next？ This lady is finished？"
Madame Riennes uttered a stifled scream， more she could not do for rage choked her. Her big eyes rolled， she clenched and unclenched her hands， and bent forward as though she were about to fly at the Pasteur like a wild cat. Still poised upon the fragments of the mummy he lifted the point of the umbrella to receive the charge as it came， and taking advantage of Madame's temporary paralysis of speech， went on：
"Hearken！ daughter of Beelzebub. You have the curse and it shall work upon your soul， but， yes， it shall work well. Still your body remains， and of that too I would say something. Know that I have heard much of you--oh！ the quiet old Pasteur hears many things， especially if he has members of the secret police among his flock. I think that yonder in an office there is a /dossier/， yes， an official record concerning you and your doings both in this country and in other lands. It has been allowed to sleep， but it can wake again； if it wakes--well， there is the penitentiary for such as you."
Madame gasped and turned green. If Monsieur had drawn a bow at a venture， evidently that chance arrow had found the bull's-eye， for now she truly was frightened.
"What would you have me do？" she asked in a choking voice.
"Free this youth from your influence， as you can if you will."
"My influence！ If I had any with him would not that bald skull of yours by now have been shattered like an egg， seeing that he is strong and holds a stick？"
"I have no time to waste， Madame. The Police Office closes early on Sundays."
Then she gave in.
"Come here，" she said sullenly to Godfrey， still speaking in French.
He came and stood before her sneezing， for the pungent dust of the smashed mummy， which the Pasteur still ground beneath his large boots， had floated up his nose.
"Cease that noise， little fool， and look at me."
Godfrey obeyed， but did not stop sneezing， because the mixture of spices and organic matter would not allow him to do so. She stared at him very evilly， muttered some more words， and made mystic upward passes with her hands.
"There now，" she said， "you are free， so far as I am concerned. But I do not think that you are done with spirits， since they are guests which once entertained to breakfast， stop to luncheon and to dinner； yes， and pass the night when they are merriest. I think you will see many spirits before you die， and afterwards--ah！ who knows， little pig？ Put your string about his leg and take your little pig home， Pasteur. He will not be drawn to come here again."
"Good， Madame， for remember， if he does I shall be drawn to call at the Police Office. If Madame will take my advice she will try change of air. Lucerne is cold in the winter， especially for those whose hearts are not too strong. Is it finished？"
"Quite， for my part， but for you， interfering humbug， I do not know.
Get out of my room， both of you."
The Pasteur bowed with an old-fashioned politeness， and herding Godfrey in front of him， turned to go. As he passed through the door something hard hit him violently in the back， so that he nearly fell.
It was the head of the mummy， which Madame had hurled at him. It fell to the floor， and striking against a chair leg， recoiled through the doorway. Godfrey saw it， and an impulse seized him. Lifting that head， he turned. Madame was standing in the middle of the room with her back to the deal table， uttering short little howls of fury.
Godfrey advanced very politely and saying， "I believe this is your property， Madame，" placed the battered remnant of humanity upon the table beside the black bottle. As he did so， he glanced at the mesmerist， then turned and fled， for her face was like to that of a devil.
"Monsieur Boiset，" he said， when they reached the street， "something has happened to me. I am quite changed. Not for all the world would I go near Madame Riennes again. Indeed， now I feel as though I wished to run away from her."
"That is good！" said the Pasteur. "Oh！ I thought it would be so， for I know how to deal with such witches. But not too fast， not too fast， my Godfrey. I wonder what the old Egyptians put into the heads of their mummies to make them so heavy."
"Bitumen，" answered Godfrey， and proceeded in a cheerful voice to give an account of the Egyptian process of mummification to his tutor， which Isobel and he had acquired in the course of their miscellaneous reading at Monk's Acre. Indeed， as he had said， whatever the reason， he was changed and prepared to talk cheerfully about anything. A great burden was lifted from his soul.
From that day forward Godfrey became what a youth of his years and race should be， a high-spirited， athletic， and active young man.
Madame Riennes and her visions passed from him like a bad dream.
Thoughtful he remained always， for that was his nature； sometimes sad also， when he thought of Isobel， who seemed to have disappeared quite out of his life. But as was natural at his age， this mood weakened by degrees. She was always there in the background， but she ceased to obscure the landscape as she had done before， and was to do in his after life. Had she been a girl of the common type， attractive only because she was a young and vivacious woman， doubtless the eclipse would have been complete. Occasionally， indeed， men do love fools in an enduring fashion， which is perhaps the most evil fate that can be laid upon them. For what can be worse than to waste what is deep and real upon a thing of flesh without a soul， an empty， painted bubble， which evades the hand， or bursts if it is grasped？ Those are the real unfortunates， who have sold themselves for a mess of potage， that for the most part they are never even allowed to eat， since before the bell rings it has probably been deposited by heaven knows what hand of Circumstance in someone else's plate， or gone stale and been thrown away.