"Are you going to get up or not? I've something to say to you; and you've got to hear it, if I stay all night." Then Rathbeal opened his eyes again, and there was recognition in them, as he said courteously: "Ah, Mr. Fox-Cordery, your pardon; I was scarcely awake. You have taken me from the land of dreams. It is the first time you have honored me in this apartment. To see you here is a surprise." "I dare say," chuckled Mr. Fox-Cordery, "and not an agreeable one either. Eh, old man?" "If it were not agreeable," said Rathbeal, spreading out his hands, which were large and shapely, and in keeping with his general appearance, "I should not confess it. You are my guest." "Guest be hanged!" exclaimed Mr. Fox-Cordery, resenting the suggestion as claiming equality with him. "Do you think I have come to partake of your hospitality? Not by a long way. Are you awake yet?" "Wide, very wide," replied Rathbeal, rising calmly from his bed. "I have been in the spirit"--he consulted a silver watch--"nine hours. If you had not aroused me I should have been by this time conscious. Excuse me; I have no other apartment." There was a small shut-up washstand in a corner, and he opened it, and pouring out water, laved his hands. When he had dried them he combed out his noble beard with his fingers, and said, "I am now ready for work." "People, as a rule, leave off at this hour," remarked Mr. Fox-Cordery, who for reasons of his own, which had suggested themselves since he entered the room, did not intend to rush into his grievance. Under any circumstances he might not have done so, absorbing as it was, for it was his method to lead up to a subject artfully in the endeavor to gain some advantage beforehand. "I commence at this hour," said Rathbeal, "and work through the night. You have something to say to me?" "A good deal, and you'll need all your wits. I say, you, Rathbeal, what are you?" His eyes wandered about the room, and gave point to his inquiry. "I have known you a pretty long time, but I have never been able to make up my mind about you. Not that I have troubled myself particularly; but since I have been here I have grown curious. That's frank, isn't it?" "Very. What am I? You open up a vast field. What is man? Who has been sufficiently wise to answer the question? What is man? What is life? Some say a dream, and that it commences with death. Some say that the soul of man exists long before the man is born, and that it is enshrined in a human body for the purpose of overcoming the temptations and debasing influences of the material life. Successful, it earns its place in celestial abodes, Unsuccessful, it is forever damned." "You think yourself precious clever," sneered Mr. Fox-Cordery. "No, I am an enigma to myself, as all reflective men must be." "Reflective men!" exclaimed Mr. Fox-Cordery. "Hear him!" "One thing I know," said Rathbeal, ignoring the taunt. "You, I, and all lesser and greater mortals, are part of a system."