ssed every time I met myself in the looking-glass."

He reached the cottage door, and, lifting the brass knocker that shone
dimly in the darkness, knocked once, lifted it to knock again--and his
hand fell away as he smiled a little foolishly.

"I forgot the Patriarch was deaf," he muttered. "Wonder what you're
supposed to do? Walk right in, or--"

The door swung suddenly wide open, and upon Madison's face, usually so
perfectly at its owner's control, came a look of stunned surprise. The
Patriarch was standing on the threshold, and, with a gesture of welcome,
was motioning him to enter.

--V--

A STRANGE CONVERSATION

Madison, quite in command of himself again in an instant, stepped,
smiling, into the cottage. He took the Patriarch's extended hand in a
cordial grip and nodded understandingly as the other, with quick, rapid
motions, touched lips and ears to signify that he could neither hear nor
speak. But, inwardly puzzled, Madison searched the Patriarch's face--was
the other playing a part? Could he _hear_, after all--and perhaps speak
as well, if he wanted to! There was certainly no guile in the venerable,
gentle face--or was it guile of a very high order?

The Patriarch closed the door, and drawing his own armchair to the table
offered it to Madison with a courteous smile.

Madison refused by gently forcing the old man into it himself, pulled
another up to face the Patriarch, sat down--and his eyes fixed suddenly
on the ceiling above his head. Swaying slowly back and forth was a sort
of miniature punkah of waving white canvas. He studied this for a
moment, then his eyes shifted to the Patriarch, who was regarding him
humorously.

The Patriarch rose from his chair, walked to the door, opened it, moved
the knocker up and down--and pointed to the ceiling. The canvas was
waving violently now, and Madison traced the cord attachment, on little
pulleys, across the ceiling to where it ran through the door and was
affixed to the knocker without. It was very simple, even
primitive--every time the knocker was lifted the cord was pulled and the
canvas waved back and forth. Madison nodded his head and smiled
approvingly, as the Patriarch once more closed the door and resumed his
seat.

Madison leaned back in his chair and allowed his eyes to stray, not
impertinently but with pleased endorsement, around the room, to permit
an unhampered opportunity for the scrutiny of the blue eyes which he
felt upon him.

"A