She was concerned, and begged me as a favour not to mention the fact to her father. I did not. He just came into the hall then, and we went in to breakfast. After breakfast, Captain Pym took leave, and started for the camp. Sir Roderick settled, in his dogmatic way, that after church (this was Sunday) Lilia should take me round the grounds. He seemed astonished that I should wish to accompany her to morning service. “I thought you and I agreed on those subjects,” he said. “I had been looking forward to a pipe and a chat while Lilia was on her knees trying to propitiate her Fetishes.” “Just as you please,” I said. Glancing at Lilia, I fancied she looked disappointed. But Fancy seemed to have got me in a vice and to shake me like a dog shakes a rat, all the time I was at the Pinewood. It was settled I should accompany her. Meanwhile I went into the study with Sir Roderick, and presently we got upon the subject of the Dutchman’s treatise. “How did you like it?” he asked. “It is hardly a question of liking,” I said. “The man is as illogical as Swedenborg, without the originality or the power.” He looked surprised. “How?” he said. “That chapter ‘On the Age of Souls’ seems to me almost an absurdity,” I could not help saying. “On _what_?” he said, taking his long pipe from his mouth, and staring curiously at me. I repeated what I had said, adding comments on the extravagance of that part of the treatise. He shook his head, puzzled. “You must be dreaming,” he said. “I have no book in my library containing stuff of that sort. Where is it?” I offered to fetch it, but he had already sounded his hand-gong, and James was sent for the volume. He was absent but a minute, but the time seemed long to me. Sir Roderick puffed away at his pipe, with an amused smile which was peculiarly exasperating. His hand went out for the volume as soon as James appeared, and of course the young man gave it to his master, who carefully looked it through, then handed it to me. “I cannot find this redoubtable chapter,” he said; “perhaps you can. But I flattered myself I knew the book well.” I began at the beginning, turning over the pages carefully one by one, and recognising what I had read overnight. By the time I had come to the end of the first chapter I felt more assured. But when I turned over to the second, it was totally unfamiliar. I had certainly never read a word of it before; and its heading was “On Ordinary Somnambulism.” I went on turning the pages, feeling as if I was bewitched, until I came to the end; but there was no chapter that even alluded to any doctrine of transmigration, and certainly no heading bearing the faintest resemblance to that curious title, “On the Age of Souls.” “It is most extraordinary!” I cried. “I could swear to having read what I told you about. I remember the very words and the quaint turning of the phrases.” He asked me how I had read it; then laughed at me.