the
stronger, he could refute with convincing arguments; and when he saw
others nibbling whitethorn-leaves, or daubing their thresholds with
pitch to preserve themselves and the house from evil spirits, he
shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, though his father often did such
things.

Here was Philip, deep in conversation with the man he had mocked at,
and Alexander was flattered by seeing that wise and famous Serapion,
in whose powers he himself believed, was talking almost humbly to his
brother, as though to a superior. The magician was standing, while the
philosopher, as though it were his right, remained seated.

Of what could they be conversing?

Alexander himself was anxious to be going, and only his desire to hear
at any rate a few sentences of the talk of two such men detained him
longer.

As he expected, it bore on Serapion's magical powers; but the bearded
man spoke in a very low tone, and if the painter ventured any nearer he
would be seen. He could only catch a few incoherent words, till Philip
exclaimed in a louder voice: "All that is well-reasoned. But you will be
able to write an enduring inscription on the shifting wave sooner than
you will shake my conviction that for our spirit, such as Nature has
made it, there is nothing infallible or certain."

The painter was familiar with this postulate, and was curious to hear
the Magian's reply; but he could not follow his argument till he
ended by saying, rather more emphatically: "You, even, do not deny the
physical connection of things; but I know the power that causes it. It
is the magical sympathy which displays itself more powerfully in the
universe, and among human beings, than any other force."

"That is just what remains to be proved," was the reply. But as
the other declared in all confidence, "And I can prove it," and was
proceeding to do so, Serapion's companion, a stunted, sharp-featured
little Syrian, caught sight of Alexander. The discourse was interrupted,
and Alexander, pointing to Melissa, begged his brother to grant them a
few minutes' speech with him. Philip, however, scarcely spared a moment
for greeting his brother and sister; and when, in answer to his request
that they be brief in what they had to say, they replied that a few
words would not suffice, Philip was for putting them off till the
morrow, as he did not choose to be disturbed just now.

At this Melissa took courage; she turned to Serapion and modestly
addressed him: