erial for my little book on the old alchemists I read a
great deal at the library of the Arsenal, which, you may have heard, is
singularly rich in all works dealing with the occult sciences.'

Burden's face assumed an expression of amused disdain. He could not
understand why Dr Porhoet occupied his leisure with studies so
profitless. He had read his book, recently published, on the more
famous of the alchemists; and, though forced to admire the profound
knowledge upon which it was based, he could not forgive the waste of
time which his friend might have expended more usefully on topics of
pressing moment.

'Not many people study in that library,' pursued the doctor, 'and I
soon knew by sight those who were frequently there. I saw this gentleman
every day. He was immersed in strange old books when I arrived early in
the morning, and he was reading them still when I left, exhausted.
Sometimes it happened that he had the volumes I asked for, and I
discovered that he was studying the same subjects as myself. His
appearance was extraordinary, but scarcely sympathetic; so, though I
fancied that he gave me opportunities to address him, I did not avail
myself of them. One day, however, curiously enough, I was looking up
some point upon which it seemed impossible to find authorities. The
librarian could not help me, and I had given up the search, when this
person brought me the very book I needed. I surmised that the librarian
had told him of my difficulty. I was very grateful to the stranger. We
left together that afternoon, and our kindred studies gave us a common
topic of conversation. I found that his reading was extraordinarily wide,
and he was able to give me information about works which I had never
even heard of. He had the advantage over me that he could apparently
read, Hebrew as well as Arabic, and he had studied the Kabbalah in the
original.'

'And much good it did him, I have no doubt,' said Arthur. 'And what is he
by profession?'

Dr Porhoet gave a deprecating smile.

'My dear fellow, I hardly like to tell you. I tremble in every limb at
the thought of your unmitigated scorn.'

'Well?'

'You know, Paris is full of queer people. It is the chosen home of every
kind of eccentricity. It sounds incredible in this year of grace, but my
friend Oliver Haddo claims to be a magician. I think he is quite
serious.'

'Silly ass!' answered Arthur with emphasis.

2

Margaret Dauncey shared a flat near the Bo