nted at what really exists. I could record to you facts
that are strange, beyond the imagination of Dumas; so wonderful, that
afterwards you could believe the stories told by your most renowned
satirist, Dean Swift."

"Favour us with one," I suggested.

Voltaire looked at me with his green-tinted eyes, as if he would read my
innermost thoughts. Evidently his impression of me was not favourable,
for a cynical smile curled his lips, and his eyes gleamed with a steely
glitter. "One has to choose times, occasions, and proper circumstances,
in order to tell such facts," he said. "I never speak of a sacred thing
jestingly."

We were all silent. This man had become the centre of attraction. Both
men and women hung upon his every word. I looked around the room and I
saw a strange interest manifested, except in the face of the Egyptian.
Aba Wady Kaffar was looking at the ceiling as if calculating how many
square feet there were.

"Perhaps you find it difficult to believe me," went on Voltaire. "The
truth is, I am very unfortunate in many respects. My way of expressing
my thoughts is perhaps distasteful to you. You see, I have lived so long
in the East that I have lost much of my European training. Then, my name
is unfortunate. Herod killed one of your Christian saints, while
Voltaire was an infidel. You English people have strong prejudices, and
thus my story would be injured by the narrator."

"Nay, Voltaire," said Tom Temple, "we are all friendly listeners here."

"My good host," said Voltaire, "I am sure you are a friendly listener,
but I have been telling of Eastern knowledge. One aspect of that
knowledge is that the learned can read the minds, the thoughts of those
with whom they come into contact."

The ladies began to express an intense desire to hear a story of magic
and mystery, and to assure him that his name was a delightful one.

"I trust I am not the disciple of either the men whose name I bear.
Certainly I am susceptible to the influence of ladies"--and he smiled,
thereby showing his white, shining teeth--"but I am a great admirer of
honest men, whoever they may be, or whatever be their opinion. I am not
a follower of Voltaire, although I admire his genius. He believed but
little in the powers of the soul, or in the spirit world; I, on the
other hand, believe it to be more real than the world in which we live."

"We are not altogether strangers to stories about spiritualism or
mesmerism here," said Miss F