And as the text, “But they have sought out many inventions,” passed through Dr. Hicok’s mind, the other drew forth a white handkerchief, and, rubbing the card in a careless sort of way, laid it down before the doctor. Perhaps the strain on the poor doctor’s nerves was unsteadying him by this time: he may not have seen right; but he seemed to see only one name, as if compounded from the former two. +------------+ | APOLLYON | +------------+ And it seemed to be in red ink instead of black; and the lines seemed to creep and throb and glow, as if the red were the red of fire, instead of vermilion. But red is an extremely trying colour to the eyes. However, the doctor, startled as he was, thought best not to raise any further queries, and only said, perhaps with some difficulty, “Very curious, I’m sure!” “Well, doctor,” said Mr. Lyon, or whatever his name was, “I don’t want to hurry you, but I suppose we might as well have our little business over?” “Why, yes. I suppose you wouldn’t care to consider any question of compromises or substitutes?” “I fear it’s out of the question, really,” was the reply, most kindly in tone, but with perfect distinctness. There was a moment’s silence. It seemed to Dr. Hicok as if the beating of his heart must fill the room, it struck so heavily, and the blood seemed to surge with so loud a rush through the carotids up past his ears. “Shall I be found to have gone off with a rush of blood to the head?” he thought to himself. But--it can very often be done by a resolute effort--he gathered himself together as it were, and with one powerful exertion mastered his disordered nerves. Then he lifted his memorandum, gave one glance at the sad, calm face opposite him, and spoke. “You know they’re every once in a while explaining a vote, as they call it, in Congress. It don’t make any difference, I know; but it seems to me as if I should put you more fully in possession of my meaning, if I should just say a word or two, about the reasons for my selection.” The visitor bowed with his usual air of pleasant acquiescence. “I am aware,” said Dr. Hicok, “that my selection would seem thoroughly commonplace to most people. Yet nobody knows better than you do, my dear sir, that the oldest questions are the newest. The same vitality which is so strong in them, as to raise them as soon as thought begins, is infinite, and maintains them as long as thought endures. Indeed, I may say to you frankly, that it is by no means on novelty, but rather on antiquity, that I rely.” The doctor’s hearer bowed with an air of approving interest. “Very justly reasoned,” he observed. The doctor went on--