The Father closed
his lips again. But presently, when the butler had placed some apples on
the table, had meticulously arranged the decanters, brushed away the
crumbs and evaporated, he said, quickly,

"I begin to understand. You think Napoleon is aware of the intruder?"

"I know it. He has been watching my visitant ever since the night of
that visitant's arrival."

Another flash of light came to the Priest.

"That was why you covered him with green baize one evening?"

"Exactly. An act of cowardice. His behaviour was beginning to grate upon
my nerves."

Guildea pursed up his thin lips and drew his brows down, giving to his
face a look of sudden pain.

"But now I intend to follow his investigations," he added, straightening
his features. "The week I wasted at Westgate was not wasted by him in
London, I can assure you. Have an apple."

"No, thank you; no, thank you."

The Father repeated the words without knowing that he did so. Guildea
pushed away his glass.

"Let us come upstairs, then."

"No, thank you," reiterated the Father.

"Eh?"

"What am I saying?" exclaimed the Father, getting up. "I was thinking
over this extraordinary affair."

"Ah, you're beginning to forget the hysteria theory?"

They walked out into the passage.

"Well, you are so very practical about the whole matter."

"Why not? Here's something very strange and abnormal come into my life.
What should I do but investigate it closely and calmly?"

"What, indeed?"

The Father began to feel rather bewildered, under a sort of compulsion
which seemed laid upon him to give earnest attention to a matter that
ought to strike him--so he felt--as entirely absurd. When they came into
the library his eyes immediately turned, with profound curiosity,
towards the parrot's cage. A slight smile curled the Professor's lips.
He recognised the effect he was producing upon his friend. The Father
saw the smile.

"Oh, I'm not won over yet," he said in answer to it.

"I know. Perhaps you may be before the evening is over. Here comes the
coffee. After we have drunk it we'll proceed to our experiment. Leave
the coffee, Pitting, and don't disturb us again."

"No, sir."

"I won't have it black to-night," said the Father, "plenty of milk,
please. I don't want my nerves played upon."

"Suppose we don't take coffee at all?" said Guildea. "If we do you may
trot out the theory that we are not in a perfectly normal condition. I
know you, Murchison, devou