ing this interior language to
Rayel?" I asked.

"By signs at first--gradually making them more simple and suggestive.
The elimination of signs kept pace with the development of his
intuitions. It was slow work and hard work, but I gave all my time
to it. After he became familiar with a sign, I began to make it less
pantomimic, until finally a lift of the eyebrow, a movement of the lips,
or an inclination of the head served to express my meaning. In time he
could detect the passing shades of expression in my eyes and understand
them. Look at me," said he, laying his hand on my head and watching my
eyes as the firelight shone upon them, for it was now evening.

"Don't you know, my boy, that your eyes reflect what is passing in your
mind? Then there are countless nerves and muscles in your face which
proclaim thought. They aid my intuitions to discover what you do not
speak. You wonder--ah! you are afraid!--afraid of me."

I started in my chair, for while he was looking into my eyes a strange
gleam came into his own. He turned about suddenly and looked into the
bright fire that burned on the grate before us.

"Never fear," he continued, nervously twirling a lock of his white hair.
"Never fear, sir--I am not mad. Not yet. I have been afraid of it, but
my reason will outlast my life. Do you ever pray?"

"Every day," I answered.

"Then you employ the interior language. We commune directly with the
Holy Spirit. You get some message from Him every day more satisfactory
than words. It's the answer of your prayers. I tell you, sir, words are
an invention of the devil. Do you like Rayel?" he asked, turning upon me
abruptly.

"You need have no doubt of that," I answered, "or of my willingness to
look after him if it should be necessary--to take him away with me and
cherish him as I would a brother."

"Good! Good!" he exclaimed smiling and rubbing his hands joyfully.
"I have not long to live. When the time comes, take him out among the
knaves and fools! But we must hurry: our time is short. We must prepare
him for a second birth. You will find him an apt pupil--a very apt one.
He already knows more of the world than I thought possible. I don't
think you will find him troublesome--he can help you; he will teach
you wisdom; he will enlarge the issues of your life. My fortune will be
ample for his needs: use it as you see fit. I have one servant left,"
he said, drawing his chair closer to mine and speaking scarcely above
a wh