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:

"You, sir, look like a grave, kind man, and seem to have a regard for my
brother. You, then, will help us, no doubt, to cure him of an illusion
which troubles us. A dead girl, he says, met him, and he touched her
hand."

"And do you, sweet child, think that impossible?" the Magian asked with
gentle gravity. "Have the thousands who bring not merely fruit and wine
and money for their dead, but who even burn a black sheep for them--you,
perhaps, have done the same--have they, I ask, done this so long in vain?
I can not believe it. Nay, I know from the ghosts themselves that this
gives them pleasure; so they must have the organs of sense."

"That we may rejoice departed souls by food and drink," said Melissa,
eagerly, "and that daimons at times mingle with the living, every one of
course, believes; but who ever heard that warm blood stirred in them? And
how can it be possible that they should remunerate a service with money,
which certainly was not coined in their airy