Burn, Witch, Burn!

"She did," I answered curtly. He hesitated.

"You going to tell the boss about this?" he asked at last.

"I may or I may not-tonight. It depends upon his condition. Why?"

"Well, if we're going to pull off anything like a kidnapping, I think he ought to know."

I said, sharply: "McCann, I told you Ricori's message was that you were to obey orders from me as

though they were from him. I have given you your orders. I accept all the responsibility."

"Okay," he answered, but I could see that his doubt still lingered.

Now, assuming Ricori had sufficiently recovered, there was no real reason why I should not tell him what

had happened during my encounter with Madame Mandilip. It was different with Braile. More than

suspecting, as I did, the attachment between him and Walters, I could not tell him of the crucified

doll-and even now I thought of it not as a doll crucified, but as Walters crucified. If I told him, I knew

well that there would be no holding him back from instant attack upon the doll-maker. I did not want

that.

But I was aware of a most stubborn reluctance to tell Ricori the details of my visit. The same held good

for Braile in other matters besides the Walters doll. And why did I feel the same way about McCann? I

set it down to wounded vanity.

We stopped in front of my house. It was then close to six. Before getting out of the car I repeated my

instructions. McCann nodded.

"Okay, Doc. If she comes out, we get her."

I went into the house, and found a note from Braile saying that he would not be in to see me until after

dinner. I was glad of that. I dreaded the ordeal of his questions. I learned that Ricori was asleep, and that

he had been regaining strength with astonishing rapidity. I instructed the nurse to tell him, should he

awaken, that I would visit him after I had dined. I lay down, endeavoring to snatch a little sleep before

eating.

I could not sleep-constantly the face of the doll-maker came before me whenever I began to relax into a

doze, throwing me into intense wakefulness.

At seven I arose and ate a full and excellent dinner, deliberately drinking at least twice the amount of wine

I ordinarily permit myself, finishing with strong coffee. When I arose from the table I felt distinctly better,

mentally alert and master of myself once more-or so I believed. I had decided to apprise Ricori of my

instructions to McCann concerning the abduction of the girl. I realized that this was certain to bring down

upon me a minute catechism concerning my visit to the doll-shop, but I had formulated the story I

intended to tell-

It was with a distinct shock that I realized that this story was all that I could tell! Realized that I could not

communicate to the others the portions I had deleted, even if I desired. And that this was by command of

the doll-maker-post-hypnotic suggestion which was a part of those other inhibitions she had laid upon

my will; those same inhibitions which had held me powerless before her, had marched me out of her shop

like a robot and thrust me back from her door, when I would have re-entered!

During that brief tranced sleep she had said to me: "This and this you must not tell. This and this you

may."

I could not speak of the child-doll with the angelic face and the dagger-pin which had pricked the bubble

of Gilmore's life. I could not speak of the Walters doll and its crucifixion. I could not speak of the

doll-maker's tacit admission that she had been responsible for the deaths that had first led us to her.

However, this realization made me feel even better. Here at last was something understandable-the

tangibility for which I had been groping; something that had in it nothing of sorcery-nor of dark power;

something entirely in the realm of my own science. I had done the same thing to patients, many times,

bringing their minds back to normality by these same post-hypnotic suggestions.

Also, there was a way by which I could wash my own mind clean of the doll-maker's suggestions, if I

chose. Should I do this? Stubbornly, I decided I would not. It would be an admission that I was afraid of

Madame Mandilip. I hated her, yes-but I did not fear her. Knowing now her technique, it would be folly

not to observe its results with myself as the laboratory experiment. I told myself that I had run the gamut

of those suggestions-that whatever else it had been her intention to implant within my mind had been

held back by my unexpected awakening-

Ah, but the doll-maker had spoken truth when she called me fool!

When Braile appeared, I was able to meet him calmly. Hardly had I greeted him when Ricori's nurse

called up to say her patient was wide-awake and anxious to see me.

I said to Braile: "This is fortunate. Come along. It will save me from telling the same story twice over."

He asked: "What story?"

"My interview with Madame Mandilip."

He said, incredulously: "You've seen her!"

"I spent the afternoon with her. She is most interesting. Come and hear about it."

I led the way rapidly to the Annex, deaf to his questions. Ricori was sitting up. I made a brief