"That's it, sir. You're a ph'los'pher," murmured Mr. BUMSTEAD, trying to brush from above his nose the pendent lock of hair, which he took for a fly. "Very well, then," continued TRACEY CLEWS, his extraordinary head of hair fairly bristling with electrical animation: "You've only to get yourself into _exactly the same_ clove-y condition as on the night of the double disappearance, when you put your umbrella and nephew away somewhere, and you'll remember all about it again. You have two distinct states of existence, you see: a cloven one, and an uncloven one; and what you have done in one you are totally oblivious of in the other." Something like an occult wink trembled for a moment in the right eye of Mr. BUMSTEAD. "Tha's ver' true," said he, thoughtfully. "I've been 'blivious m'self, frequently. Never c'd r'member wharIowed." "The idea I've suggested to you for the solution of this mystery," went on Mr. CLEWS, "Is expressed by one of the greatest of English writers; who, in his very last work, says; '--in some cases of drunkenness, and in others of animal magnetism, there are two states of consciousness which never clash, but each of which pursues its separate course as though it were continuous instead of broken. Thus, if I hide my watch when I am drunk, I must be drunk again before I can remember where.'[2]" "I'm norradrink'n'man, sir," returned Mr. BUMSTEAD, drawing coldly back from him, and escaping a fall into the fireplace by a dexterous surge into the nearest chair. "Th' lemon tea which I take for my cold, or to pr'vent the cloves from disagreeing with me, is norrintoxicating." "Of course not," assented his subtle counsellor; "but, in this country, at least, chronic inebriation, clove-eating, and even opium-taking, are strikingly alike in their aspects, and the same rules may be safely applied to all. My advice to you is what I have given. Cause a table to be spread in this room, exactly as it was for that memorable Christmas-dinner; sit down to it exactly as then, and at the same hour; go through all the same processes as nearly as you can remember; and, by the mere force of association, you will enact all the final performances with your umbrella and your nephew." Mr. BUMSTEAD'S arms were folded tightly across his manly breast, and the fine head with the straw hat upon it tilted heavily towards his bosom. "I see't now," said he softly; "bone han'le 'n ferule. I r'member threshing 'm with it. I can r'memb'r carry'ng--" Here Mr. BUMSTEAD burst into tears, and made a frenzied dash at the lock of hair which he again mistook for a fly. "To sum up all," concluded Mr. TRACEY CLEWS, shaking him violently by the shoulder, that he might remain awake long enough to hear it,--"to sum up all, I am satisfied, from the familiar knowledge of this mystery I have already gained, that the end will have something to do with exercise in the Open Air! You'll have to go outdoors for something important. And now good night." "Goornight, sir."