nated with alcohol lamps and covered
with tinsel, on the high altar of the church in a suburb, in order
to get alms and orders for masses--the lean and taciturn Padre Salvi
held his breath and gazed suspiciously at that handful of ashes.

"_Memento, homo, quia pulvis es_!" muttered Padre Irene with a smile.

"Pish!" sneered Ben-Zayb--the same thought had occurred to him,
and the Canon had taken the words out of his mouth.

"Not knowing what to do," resumed Mr. Leeds, closing the box carefully,
"I examined the papyrus and discovered two words whose meaning
was unknown to me. I deciphered them, and tried to pronounce them
aloud. Scarcely had I uttered the first word when I felt the box
slipping from my hands, as if pressed down by an enormous weight,
and it glided along the floor, whence I vainly endeavored to remove
it. But my surprise was converted into terror when it opened and I
found within a human head that stared at me fixedly. Paralyzed with
fright and uncertain what to do in the presence of such a phenomenon,
I remained for a time stupefied, trembling like a person poisoned
with mercury, but after a while recovered myself and, thinking that
it was a vain illusion, tried to divert my attention by reading
the second word. Hardly had I pronounced it when the box closed,
the head disappeared, and in its place I again found the handful of
ashes. Without suspecting it I had discovered the two most potent
words in nature, the words of creation and destruction, of life and
of death!"

He paused for a few moments to note the effect of his story, then
with grave and measured steps approached the table and placed the
mysterious box upon it.

"The cloth, Mister!" exclaimed the incorrigible Ben-Zayb.

"Why not?" rejoined Mr. Leeds, very complaisantly.

Lifting the box with his right hand, he caught up the cloth with his
left, completely exposing the table sustained by its three legs. Again
he placed the box upon the center and with great gravity turned to
his audience.

"Here's what I want to see," said Ben-Zayb to his neighbor. "You
notice how he makes some excuse."

Great attention was depicted on all countenances and silence
reigned. The noise and roar of the street could be distinctly heard,
but all were so affected that a snatch of dialogue which reached them
produced no effect.

"Why can't we go in?" asked a woman's voice.

"_Aba_, there's a lot of friars and clerks in there," answered a
man. "The sphinx