oked at my watch and thought of
the precious hours that were flying; neither will I speak of my hopes
and fears with regard to this idea of finding Kaffar's whereabouts by
means of clairvoyance. Suffice it to say I was in a state of feverish
anxiety when we drove up to the professor's door that night, about
half-past nine.

We did not wait a minute before operations were commenced. Simon was
again in a mesmeric sleep, or whatever the reader may be pleased to call
it, in a few seconds after he had sat down.

Von Virchow began by asking the same question he had asked in the
morning: "Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?"

I waited in breathless silence for the answer. Simon heaved a deep sigh,
and peered wearily around, while the professor kept his eye steadily
upon him.

"Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?" repeated he.

"Yes, I see him," said Simon at length.

"Where?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," said Simon. "The place is
strange; the people talk in a strange tongue. I can't make 'em out."

"What do you see now?" said the professor, touching his forehead.

"Oh, ah, I see now," said Simon. "It's a railway station, and I see that
'ere willain there, jest as cunnin' as ever. He's a gettin' in the
train, he is."

"Can you see the name of the station?"

"No, I can't. It's a biggish place it is, and I can't see no name. Stay
a minute, though. I see now."

"Well, what's the name?"

"It's a name as I never see or heard tell on before. B-O-L-O--ah, that's
it; BOLOGNA, that's it. It is a queer name though, ain't it?"

"Well, what now?"

"Why, he's in the train, and it's started, it is."

"Do you know where he's going?"

"No."

"But he has a ticket; can't you see it?"

"Course I can't. It's in his pocket, and I can't see through the cloth,
I can't."

"And what's he doing now?"

"Why, he's in for makin' hisself comfortable, he is. He's got a piller,
and he's stretchin' hisself on the seat and layin' his head on the
piller. There, he's closed his eyes--he's off to sleep."

The professor turned to me. "I am afraid we can do no more to-night," he
said. "Evidently he is on a journey, and we must wait until he arrives
at his destination."

"But can't Slowden remain as he is and watch him?"

"The thing would be at once cruel and preposterous, sir. No, you must
come again in the morning; then, perchance, he will have finished his
journey;" and accordingly he proceeded to awake Simon.

After all, it