to me--"Mr. Blake
will be the one?"

"No," I said; "I prefer to be a spectator."

I could no longer mistake the hate that flashed from his eyes; but he
said nothing, and waited quietly for a volunteer. No one was
forthcoming. At length Tom Temple said--

"Would one of the servants do, Voltaire?"

"I would rather have a visitor," said Voltaire, "and for two reasons:
first, you could not then have any reason for suspecting a collusion;
and, second, the ordinary English servant is extremely unsusceptible to
the play of higher powers. If, however, none of you will volunteer, I
can see no other alternative."

Accordingly, a man about my own age was brought in, and introduced as
Simon Slowden. I saw that he was no ordinary character as soon as he
entered, and was by no means one who could be easily imposed upon. I
afterwards found that Simon had spent his boyhood in London, had when a
youth joined a travelling circus, and tramped the country for a few
years. He had also travelled with several "shows," two or three
travelling theatres, and had finally settled down with a lame leg at
Temple Hall, where he made himself generally useful.

His dialect was a mixture of the Cockney and a dozen others equally bad,
until it was almost impossible to tell from that source the part of the
country from which he hailed. He was, however, a good-hearted fellow,
and for a wonder, considering his history, as honest as the day.

"Now, Simon," said Tom Temple, "this gentleman is a scientist and wants
to show some experiments, and he can't get any one to assist him, so I
thought I'd ask you."

"Well," said Simon, "I don't know as I think mich on these science
gents. They're allays a-bringin' in some new-fangled thing or other, but
generally there's nowt in 'em. Still, to 'blige the company, I'll do owt
raisonable. I'm tough has a crocodile's tongue, and can stand a goodish
bit o' jingo and nonsense. Here goes, yer honour." Voltaire eyed him
doubtfully, and Simon coolly returned the stare.

"You are not a-gwine to waccinate me, be 'ee?" said Simon at length.

"No--why?"

"'Cause I can't stand that, tough as I be. I lived wi' a doctor once,
and says he to me, 'Simon, I want to speriment on ye,' says he. 'I'm
tough 'nough,' says I. 'I want to waccinate you 'gainst cholera, hoopin'
cough, and small-pox,' says he. 'What's that? give 'em to me?' says I.
'No,' says he, 'but to prevent you from a hevin' 'em.' 'That's yer
sorts,' says I. We