nge rappings and writings. She
knows her, I am sure, for I have talked with her and she says it is
all natural, and that there is a learned man with them sometimes, who
explains how all such things may happen in the course of nature--a
man--let me see, let me see--it is George, I think, but not as we
call it, not Jirgi, nor Jegor--no--it sounds harder--Ke-Keyrgi--no,
Keyork--Keyork Aribi----"

"Keyork Arabian!" exclaimed Beatrice. "Is he here?"

"You know him?" Sister Paul looked almost suspiciously at the young
girl.

"Indeed I do. He was with us in Egypt once. He showed us wonderful
things among the tombs. A strange little man, who knew everything, but
very amusing."

"I do not know. But that is his name. He lives in Prague."

"How can I find him? I must see him at once--he will help me."

The nun shook her head with disapproval.

"I should be sorry that you should talk with him," she said. "I fear he
is no better than Unorna, and perhaps worse."

"You need not fear," Beatrice answered, with a scornful smile. "I am not
in the least afraid. Only tell me how I am to find him. He lives here,
you say--is there no directory in the convent?"

"I believe the portress keeps such a book," said Sister Paul still
shaking her head uneasily. "But you must wait until the morning, my
dear child, if you will do this thing. Of the two, I should say that you
would do better to write to the lady. Come, we must be going. It is very
late."

She had taken the lamp again and was moving slowly towards the door.
Beatrice had no choice but to submit. It was evident that nothing more
could be done at present. The two women went back into the church, and
going round the high altar began to examine everything carefully. The
only trace of disorder they could discover was the fallen candlestick,
so massive and strong that it was not even bent or injured. They climbed
the short wooden steps, and uniting their strength, set it up again,
carefully and in its place, restoring the thick candle to the socket.
Though broken in the middle by the fall, the heavy wax supported itself
easily enough. Then they got down again and Sister Paul took away the
steps. For a few moments both women knelt down before the altar.

They left the church by the nuns' staircase, bolting the door behind
them, and ascended to the corridors and reached Beatrice's room.
Unorna's door was open, as the nun had left it, and the yellow light
streamed upon the pavement.