emeralds, about the size of hens' eggs, and also large sheets of
isinglass. Picking up one of the latter, Ayrault examined it. Points
of light and shade kept forming on its surface, from which rings
radiated like the circles spreading in all directions from a place in
still water at which a pebble is thrown. He called his companions, and
the three examined it. The isinglass was about ten inches long by
eight across, and contained but few impurities. In addition to the
spreading rings, curious forms were continually taking shape and
dissolving.

"This is more interesting," said Bearwarden, "than sounding shells at
the sea-shore. We must make a note of it as another thing to study."

They then spread their handkerchiefs on a mound of earth, so as to make
a table, and began examining the gems.

"Does it not seem to you," asked Ayrault, a few minutes later,
addressing his companions, "as though we were not alone? I have
thought many times there was some one--or perhaps several persons--here
besides ourselves."

"The same idea has occurred to me," replied Cortlandt. "I was
convinced, a moment ago, that a shadow crossed the page on which I was
taking notes. Can it be there are objects about us we cannot see? We
know there are vibrations of both light and sound that do not affect
our senses. I wish we had brought the magnetic eye; perchance that
might tell us."

"Anything sufficiently dense to cast a shadow," said Ayrault, "should
be seen, since it would also be able to make an image on our retinas.
I believe any impressions we are receiving are produced through our
minds, as if some one were thinking very intently about us, and that
neither the magnetic eye nor a sensitive plate could reveal anything."

They then returned to the study of the isinglass, which they were able
to split into extremely thin sheets. Suddenly a cloud passed over the
table, and almost immediately disappeared, and then a sharpened pencil
with which Ayrault had been writing began to trace on a sheet of paper,
in an even hand, and with a slight frictional sound.

"Stop!" said Bearwarden; "let us each for himself describe in writing
what he has seen."

In a moment they had done this, and then compared notes. In each case
the vision was the same. Then they looked at the writing made by the
invisible hand. "Absorpta est mors in Victoria," it ran.

"Gentlemen," began Bearwarden, as if addressing a meeting, "this cannot
be coincide