When found the next morning,
he was barely covered by the old sin-eater's rags, while near by was
scattered the entire orchestra of that eloquent wizard. Shudderingly he
realized that it had been no dream; shudderingly he wondered if upon his
soul had been shifted the unknown crime of the fanatic! The witching,
enigmatic Debora haunted his memory; and with dismay he recalled the
blistering vision evoked by the music, through which she had glided like
some tremulous Lamia. Decidedly his imagination had carried him far. He
cursed his easy credulity, he reviled his love of the exotic....
Ferval made inquiry of the authorities, but received little comfort.
Salvation Army people they were not, this father and daughter; the
tambourine, assumed garb, and prophet's beard had deceived him.
Impostors! But of what incredible caliber, of what illusion-creating
power! For years he could not see a Salvation Army girl without a sense
of cerebral exaltation. If he could have met Debora again, he would have
forgiven her sibylline deceptions, her father's chicanery.
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