e to
vanish in a cloud of smoke.

By the time they reached Mr. Silver's abode the party had regained its
decorum, and, except for a tremendous shudder on the part of Mr. Boxer as
his gaze fell on a couple of skulls which decorated the magician's table,
their behaviour left nothing to be desired. Mrs. Gimpson, in a few
awkward words, announced the occasion of their visit. Mr. Boxer she
introduced as a friend of the family from London.

"I will do what I can," said the old man, slowly, as his visitors seated
themselves, "but I can only tell you what I see. If I do not see all, or
see clearly, it cannot be helped."

Mr. Boxer winked at Mr. Thompson, and received an understanding pinch in
return; Mrs. Thompson in a hot whisper told them to behave themselves.

The mystic preparations were soon complete. A little cloud of smoke,
through which the fierce red eyes of the astrologer peered keenly at Mr.
Boxer, rose from the table. Then he poured various liquids into a small
china bowl and, holding up his hand to command silence, gazed steadfastly
into it. "I see pictures," he announced, in a deep voice. "The docks of
a great city; London. I see an ill-shaped man with a bent left leg
standing on the deck of a ship."

Mr. Thompson, his eyes wide open with surprise, jerked Mr. Boxer in the
ribs, but Mr. Boxer, whose figure was a sore point with him, made no
response.

"The ship leaves the docks," continued Mr. Silver, still peering into the
bowl. "As she passes through the entrance her stern comes into view with
the name painted on it. The--the--the----"

"Look agin, old chap," growled Mr. Boxer, in an undertone.

"The North Star," said the astrologer. "The ill-shaped man is still
standing on the fore-part of the ship; I do not know his name or who he
is. He takes the portrait of a beautiful young woman from his pocket and
gazes at it earnestly."

Mrs. Boxer, who had no illusions on the subject of her personal
appearance, sat up as though she had been stung; Mr. Thompson, who was
about to nudge Mr. Boxer in the ribs again, thought better of it and
assumed an air of uncompromising virtue.

"The picture disappears," said Mr. Silver. "Ah! I see; I see. A ship
in a gale at sea. It is the North Star; it is sinking. The ill-shaped
man sheds tears and loses his head. I cannot discover the name of this
man."

Mr. Boxer, who had been several times on the point of interrupting,
cleared his throat and endeavour