Philip's little finger rested with a light pressure upon that of his fair young neighbor; but though, formerly, such a tender proximity would have sent a glow of warmth through his veins, to-day he remained quite cool as though he were merely waiting until the reputed magic fluid should stream from the slender hand near his own and animate the lifeless wood. Now, it happened that on this evening our old acquaintance, Heinrich Müller, had undertaken the spiritualistic duties in this house, although he usually reserved himself for commissions of a higher order. But upon the preceding evening his more ignorant colleague had been put to rout so ignominiously that he would not expose himself soon again to a like experience. At the request of the assembled company, the medium had called up the spirit of Napoleon, and had propounded to it all kinds of historical questions. Now, as Johann Gruber, in his former capacity of house-servant, had known nothing of the great Corsican, and, indeed, had only heard his name when the talk had turned upon Napoleon-players--of whom he had had occasion to eject several from the inn when in the service of its landlord--he gave such startling and distorted answers that the leading spiritualist was overcome with embarrassment, and finally bade him go to the devil, while he explained to the questioners that the spirit had played one of his scornful jokes upon them because he was very angry at being dragged down to earth again from his heavenly exaltation. Heinrich Müller, on the contrary, who had more culture and was never at a loss to furnish some ambiguous solution for difficult questions, responded to the summons from the Stadtrath's house the more willingly in that he had seen his rival enter it, and burned to play him a trick. For this an opportunity was soon afforded. For, when he had slipped into the table and had announced his presence by raising one foot and stamping softly, the Fräulein Rosa, after some inconsequential skirmishing, asked directly whether he knew that a strange guest had inserted himself into the chain. "Yes," answered the table, to the great satisfaction of the believing. Did he know his name? "Philip," rapped the table foot. Did he know where this Philip had been staying since he came to town? "Ghost Lane," spelled the table, without reflecting that this would be a surprise to the company; for what should a young physician just returned home have to call him to that ill-omened street? And so the Fräulein, for she alone had noticed the strange flush mount to her neighbor's face, inquired promptly what had taken him thither; and forthwith the table-spirit stamping the foot by a violent motion, rapped out: "A love affair!"