“It is Mr. Paxton,” said her father, indicating the sculptor. Then, indicating the girl, “It is my daughter, Isis. Isis will help us to look for Nicris. Why am I here, an old fool who ought to be asleep? Because of this girdle your statue wore. I so well remember when it was dug up. I cannot know its history, but be sure it is evil. From the beginning, please, Mr. Paxton!” “I’m awfully indebted to you! Won’t you come in and sit down?” said Paxton, glancing at the girl in bewilderment. “No, no!” replied Klaw, “let us stand. It is good to stand, and stand upright; for it is because he can do this that man is superior to the other animals!” Coram and I knew Klaw’s mannerisms, but I could see that Paxton thought him to be a unique kind of lunatic. Nevertheless, he narrated something of the foregoing up to the point reached at Moris Klaw’s arrival. “Proceed slowly, now,” said Klaw. “You left the door open behind you?” “Yes; but I was never more than ten yards from it. It would have been physically impossible for any one to remove the statue unknown to me. You must remember that it was no light weight.” “One moment,” I interrupted. “Are you sure that the statue was in its place before you came out?” “Certain! There was a bright moon, and the figure was the first thing my eyes fell upon when I pulled the curtain aside.” “Did you _touch_ it?” rumbled Moris Klaw. “No. There was no occasion to do so.” “How much to be regretted, Mr. Paxton! The sense of touch is so exquisite a thing!” We all wondered at his words. “Stepping just outside the door,” Paxton resumed, “I looked to right and left. There was no one in sight. Then I walked to the wall--a matter of some ten yards--and, pulling myself up by my hands, looked over into the street. It was deserted, save for a constable on the opposite corner. I know him, slightly, and his presence convinced me that no one could either have come into or gone out of the garden by way of the wall. I did not call him, but immediately returned to the studio door.” “In all, you were absent from the studio about how long?” asked Moris Klaw. “Not a second over half a minute!” “And on returning once more to the door?” “A single glance showed me that the statue had gone!” “Good Heavens!” I said; “it sounds impossible. Was the constable on point duty?” “He was; there is always an officer there. He stood in sight of the double doors opening on to the street during the whole time, so that ‘Nicris’ unquestionably came out by way of the garden or melted into thin air. Since the only exit from the garden also opens on to the street, how, but by magic, can the statue have been removed from the premises?” “Ah, my friend,” said Moris Klaw, “you talk of magic as one talks of onions! How little you know”--he swept wide his arms, looking upward--“of the phenomena of the two atmospheres! Proceed!”