and, yielding to importunity, Prosper was finally induced to
talk freely of the sacred mysteries of the Shining One. He was even
persuaded to put the machinery in operation, outside the canonical
hours, in order that Constans might test the theories derived from his
books. One experiment interested them greatly.

Constans took a "live" wire and allowed its free end to hang in close
proximity to a leaden water-pipe. Then he placed a piece of oily rag
near by and saw it answer his expectation by bursting into flame. He
looked triumphantly around at Prosper, to whom he had previously
explained the nature of the experiment.

"Would the fire descend wherever the wire led?" demanded the priest.

"Yes," answered Constans, confidently. "Under the same conditions, of
course--a broken circuit and inflammable material close at hand."

The old man frowned. "It is wonderful," he said, grudgingly, "but it
proves nothing. Is your viewless, formless electricity anything more or
anything less than my god? What am I to believe? Is it the spirit of the
lightning-cloud that thrills in this little wire, or have you learned
how to bottle fire and thunder, even as a House-dweller who fills his
goat-skins with apple-wine? Is the Shining One at once so great and so
small that we can be both his servants and his lords?"

Constans would not be drawn into an argument, being as little versed in
theological subtleties as was the old priest in scientific terminology.
But he noticed that Prosper was studying the subject after his own
fashion. Nearly every night now he would start up the machinery and
spend hours in watching the revolutions of the giant dynamo. It was not
unusual for Constans to fall to sleep, lulled by the monotonous humming
of the vibratory motor and awake to find the machinery still in motion.

It was within this week that the _Black Swan_ returned to port. On the
fourth day after the accident to his ankle Constans managed to hobble to
one of his posts of observation, and he discovered immediately that the
galley was lying at her accustomed pier. It was vexatious! to have
Quinton Edge return at this precise time. Annoying! that this fair field
should be closed before he had had a chance to explore it. Well, it was
fortune, and he must accept it; he was all the more eager now to make a
second call at Arcadia House.

It was a dull, thawy afternoon when Constans found himself standing
again before the closed door that bore the na