"By the way, talking of spiritual matters," interrupted the Duke, "Pomerantseff has been telling me his experience with a man you detest, Abbe." "I detest no man." "I can only judge from your own words," rejoined Frontignan. "Did you not tell me years ago that you thought Home a more serious evil than the typhoid fever?" "Ah, Home the medium!" cried Gerard in great disgust. "I admit you are right. It is not possible, Prince, that you encourage Frontignan in his absurd spiritualism." The Prince smiled gravely. "I do not pretend to encourage any man in anything, _mon cher Abbe_." "But you cannot believe in it!" "I do most certainly believe in it." "_Dieu de Dieu!_" exclaimed Gerard. "What folly! What are we all coming to?" "It has always struck me as remarkable," said the Duke, "that with all your taste for the curious and unknown, you have never been tempted into investigating the matter, Abbe." "I am, as you say, a lover of the curious," replied the priest, "but not of such empty trash as spiritualism. I have enough cares with the realities of this world without bringing upon myself the misery of investigating the possibilities of the next." "That is a sentiment worthy of Abbe Dubois," said Pomerantseff laughing, and then the Duke, suddenly making some inquiry relative to the train which was to take him and the Prince to Brunoy on a shooting expedition the following morning, the subject for the nonce was dropped. It was destined, however, to be revived later in the evening, for when after dinner they were comfortably ensconced in the _tabagie_, Frontignan, who had been greatly excited by some extraordinary manifestations related to him by the Prince before the arrival of the Abbe, said abruptly: "Now, Gerard, you must really let us convert you to spiritualism." "Never!" cried the Abbe. "It is absurd for you to disbelieve, for you know nothing about it, since you have never been willing to attend a _seance_." "I _feel_ it is absurd, and that is enough." "I myself do not exactly believe in _spirits_," said Frontignan thoughtfully. "_A la bonne heure!_ Of course not!" cried the Abbe. "You see, Prince, he is not quite mad after all!" The Prince said nothing. "I cannot doubt the existence of some extraordinary phenomena," continued the young Duke thoughtfully; "for I cannot bring myself to such an exquisite pitch of philosophical imbecility as to doubt my own senses; but, to my thinking, the exact nature of the phenomena, remains as yet an open question. I have a theory of my own about it, and although it may be absurd and fantastical, it is certainly no more so than that which would have us believe the spirits of the dear old lazy dead come back to the scenes of their lives and miseries to pull our noses and play tambourines." "And may I ask you," inquired the Prince, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, "what this theory of yours may be?"