ertain words catch his ear and tell him that the professor is not
merely speaking for oratorical effect or to hear himself talk.

"What's that you say, sir?" he asks.

Cheerfully Philander goes back to repeat.

"I was saying that I experienced queer sensations when I came to. They
had carried you away to some more luxurious apartment, but I was left
where I went to sleep--anything was good enough for Philander Sharpe.

"At first I was dazed; the soft murmur of the fountain came near putting
me to sleep again with its droning voice. Then I suddenly remembered
something--a charming face with the flashing eye of a fiend.

"That aroused me to a comprehension of the position, and I no longer
cared to sleep. Action was necessary. I knew they cared little about
Philander Sharpe, as it was you the trap had been set for--hence I was
perhaps in a position to accomplish something.

"I left my chair and prowled around. They had disarmed me, and my first
natural desire was to find some sort of weapon with which I could do
service in case of necessity.

"In thus searching I came across a peculiar knife, perhaps used as a
paper-cutter, but of a serviceable kind, which I pocketed.

"More than this, I discovered something that I thought would prove of
importance to you, and this I hid upon my person, very wisely, too, for
a short time later I was suddenly set upon by three miserable rogues,
who crept upon me unawares, and in spite of my frantic and Spartan-like
resistance, they bore me away along a dim passage, to finally chuck me
into the vile den where you came later and alarmed me so dreadfully, as
I fully believed it must be some tiger cat they had been pleased to shut
in with me."

The little professor rattles off these long sentences without the least
difficulty--words flow from his lips as readily as the floods roll over
Niagara.

When John sees a chance to break in he hastily asks what it is the
professor has discovered that interests him.

Whereupon Philander begins to feel in his various pockets, and pull out
what has been stored there. At last he utters an exclamation of
satisfaction.

"Eureka! here it is. Found it lying on a desk. Was attracted by the
singular writing."

"Singular writing! that makes me believe it must have come from my
mother."

"It is signed Sister Magdalen."

"Then that proves it; you remember what Lady Ruth said about meeting a
Sister in Paris who resembled the miniature I have of my m