“You don’t expect me to gulp that——” Welsh checked himself, and added, shaking his head—“I can’t, I’m afraid, make copy of that.” “It is true,” said Saltren earnestly. His vehemence, his kindled eyes, his deepened colour, showed his sincerity. “Would I dare in such matters to utter lies? I am but a poor mean instrument, but what of that? Prophets have been found among shepherds, and apostles taken from their fishing nets. I was engaged in heartfelt prayer when this took place.” “You didn’t happen to fall asleep, whilst occupied in devotion, of course?” said Welsh, with a contemptuous jerk of the chin. “Such a weakness is not likely to befall you.” “I was not asleep,” answered Saltren sternly. “How could I be asleep, when my eyes were open, and I saw the book; and my ears, and they heard the voice?” “You didn’t happen to get hold of the book, and see the name of the publisher?” “No—I was unable. It was unnecessary. I read the title plainly. I saw what was on the cover of the book.” “I can do nothing with this,” said Welsh, leaning back in his chair, stretching, and closing his hands behind the back of his head. “This belongs to another department altogether. You had better relate your experiences at the next revival-meeting among the horse-marines, there is no knowing what effect it may have upon that intelligent and excitable body of men.” “It is true,” urged Saltren again, frowning. He was incapable of seeing that his brother-in-law was bantering him. The man was absolutely without sense of humour; but he saw that Welsh did not believe in his story, and this irritated and offended him. That his tale, as he told it, grew in its proportions and became more and more unreal, was also what he did not know. His mind worked on the small materials it had, and spun out of them a fable in which he himself implicitly believed. “I don’t dispute what you have narrated,” said Welsh composedly. “I know you are a total abstainer, so it is not to be accounted for in the way which comes naturally uppermost. Still, I’ve heard of wonderful elevation of spirits and general head-over-heeledness after an over-dose of non-alcoholic effervescing liquors.” “I had touched nothing,” said Saltren, with his temper chafed. “If you doubt me——” “But I do not doubt you,” interrupted Welsh. “I tell you that this does not interest me, because it is outside my department, like Bulgaria, and the Opera Comique, and Inoculations for Hydrophobia, and Primitive Marriage. I don’t meddle with the Eastern Question, or review historical works, or sermons, or novels. I leave all that to other fellows; you must pass this on to the chap who does religion, not that I think he would make copy out of it for a magazine article, except under the head of Hallucinations.” CHAPTER XV. REVELATIONS.