"I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper. Parchment is durable--almost imperishable. Matters of little moment are rarely consigned to parchment; since for the mere ordinary purposes of drawing or writing it is not nearly so well adapted as paper. This reflection suggested some meaning--some relevancy--in the death's-head. I did not fail to observe, also, the _form_ of the parchment. Although one of its corners had been, by some accident, destroyed, it could be seen that the original form was oblong. It was just a slip, indeed, as might have been chosen for a memorandum--for a record of something to be long remembered and carefully preserved." "But," I interposed, "you say that the skull was _not_ upon the parchment when you made the drawing of the beetle. How then do you trace any connection between the boat and the skull--since this latter, according to your own admission, must have been designed (God only knows how or by whom) at some period subsequent to your sketching the _scarabæus_?" "Ah, hereupon turns the whole mystery; although the secret, at this point, I had comparatively little difficulty in solving. My steps were sure, and could afford but a single result. I reasoned, for example, thus: When I drew the _scarabæus_, there was no skull apparent upon the parchment. When I had completed the drawing I gave it to you and observed you narrowly until you returned it. _You_, therefore, did not design the skull, and no one else was present to do it. Then it was not done by human agency. And nevertheless it was done.