out being fully comprehended by ignorant persons, that do produce phenomena, the true nature of which we are as yet wholly unable to comprehend.”
“And by these laws you would explain the levitations of Mirrikh?” I yawned, for I was growing entirely sick of this lengthy discussion.
“I see no other way of explaining them.”
“If we could only read this, we might get some light upon the subject,” said the Doctor.
He thrust his hand into his coat pocket as he spoke, and pulled out the book which he had taken from Mr. Mirrikh’s bag.
I was amazed—indignant.
“What? You can’t have had the impudence to appropriate that book after all I said?” I angrily cried.
“There, there, Wylde, don’t lose your temper again! I did keep it. I was curious to study it. I”
“Give it to me! ” I exclaimed, holding out my hand. “Until it is delivered to its owner, it is my property. Give it to me at once.”
“Take it then, since you are going to be so savage about it,” he replied sulkily; and he just tossed the book across the fire to my side. I tried to catch it, but failing, it went sprawling open upon the floor. Indeed, it had partly opened before he threw it, for I saw an envelope drop from between the leaves at Philpot’s feet. When I picked the book up, he had already possessed himself of the envelope, and with the idea of stirring me still further, no doubt, coolly opened it, and now I saw him draw out a letter and hold it close to the fire’s light.
“What is that?” asked Maurice. Philpot, who was glancing at the contents of the letter, did not immediately reply.
“Give it to me!” I cried. “It came out of the book.”
“So it did. Astonishing!”
“What’s astonishing?” asked Maurice.
“His impudence,” said I. “Mr. Philpot, I demand that letter.”
“Shut up, George!” cried Maurice. “Read it, Doctor; if it throws the least light upon the mystery of Mirrikh, read it by all means.”
“On the contrary, my dear fellow, it only increases it. Wylde will you behave yourself?”
