During Maurice’s animated and somewhat highly colored description of the scene in the alley and that upon the tower, the reverend gentleman maintained perfect silence.
He seemed impressed with my friend’s manner, half amused at his earnestness, but at each allusion to the remarkable disappearances of Mr. Mirrikh, that same sneering smile crept over his face. His glances at Maurice were half in pity it seemed to me.
“You may question me as much as you please, Mr. De Veber,” he said, after Maurice had at length ceased speaking. “You perceive that I am above the prejudices of my race, and am not afraid of the interrogation point. But, my dear fellow, I can’t help you. I can throw no light whatever upon this mystery, unless too great an indulgence in”
“Stop, sir!” I exclaimed. “I protest. I never indulge too deeply, nor does my friend, De Veber. Look at us both. Not ten minutes have elapsed since that man stood beside us on this tower. Do we show any signs of over indulgence now?”
“No, no; certainly not,” he replied hastily. “But tales of mysterious levitations—I think that was the word you used, Mr. De Veber—remind one of sea-serpent stories and naturally suggest—but enough of this! Seriously, gentlemen, I can assure you that such a person as you describe could scarcely have passed me unnoticed. I saw nothing of him and am glad I did not. Hope I never may.”
“Why so?” asked Maurice.
“Because I am wholly skeptical on these points and have seen enough to make me so.”
“For instance?”
“Oh come, I don’t care to enter into a discussion on Spiritualism—that’s what you are driving at. Give me a light.”
“He has seen nothing,” I thought, as I passed him the match safe, “but he has read much and is afraid to expose his hand until he knows the cards against which he has to play.”
“And I,” said Maurice slowly, “am willing to enter into any investigation which will shed light upon the mighty problem of the hereafter. We are here in this world to-day, we are gone to-morrow. Where? That’s what I want to know.”
