“Why, not of necessity,” said I. “As touches what we call the ‘occult,’ delusion after delusion has been dissipated, of course, and much jubilant pother made over the advance in knowledge. But the last of his delusions, which man has yet to relinquish, is that he invented them. This too must be surrendered with time; and already we are beginning to learn that many of these wild errors are the illegitimate children of grave truths. Science now looks with new respect on folk-lore—” “Mr. Kennaston,” says Moira, laughing, “I warn you, if you start Dick on his hobbies, he will talk us all to death. So, come into the house, and I will mix you two men a drink.” And we obeyed her, and—somehow—got to talking of the recent thunderstorms, and getting in our hay, and kindred topics. * * * * * Yes, it was much the usual sort of late-afternoon call customarily exchanged by country neighbors. I remember Moira’s yawning as she closed the cellarette, and her wondering how Mrs. Kennaston could keep on rouging and powdering at her age, and why Kennaston never had anything in particular to say for himself? “Do you suppose it is because he has a swelled head over his little old book, or is he just naturally stupid?” she wanted to know. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _Book Sixth_ ══════════════════════ “Alas! the sprite that haunts us Deceives our rash desire; It whispers of the glorious gods, And leaves us in the mire: We cannot learn the cipher Inscribed upon our cell; Stars taunt us with a mystery Which we lack lore to spell.” ══════════════════════ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I Sundry Disclosures of the Press SUCH as has been described was now Felix Kennaston’s manner of living, which, as touches utilitarian ends, it might be wiser forthwith to dismiss as bred by the sickly fancies of an idle man bemused with unprofitable reading. By day his half of the sigil lay hidden in the library, under a pile of unused bookplates. But nightly this bit of metal was taken with him to bed, in order that, when held so as to reflect the candlelight—for this was always necessary—it might induce the desired dream of Ettarre; and that, so, Horvendile would be freed of Felix Kennaston for eight hours uninterruptedly.