first he imposed his personality, and made people forget
the accidents of his physical constitution. He said very little during
breakfast, but listened with attention to the conversation.

He observed that Henry Lennox spoke seldom, but studied him
unobtrusively, as a man concerning whom he specially desired to know
more. Hardcastle proved himself well educated; indeed, his reading,
studiously pursued, and his intellectual attainments, developed by hard
work and ambition, far exceeded those of any present.

The clergyman returned to his own ground, and expressed his former
opinions, to which Hardcastle listened without a shadow of the secret
surprise they awoke in him.

"The Witchcraft Act assumes that there can be no possible communication
between living men and spirits," he said in answer to an assertion;
whereon Septimus May instantly took up the challenge.

"A fatuous, archaic assumption, and long since destroyed by actual,
human experience," he replied. "It is time such blasphemous folly should
be banished from the Statute Book. I say 'blasphemous' because such an
Act takes no cognizance of the Word of God. Outworn Acts of Parliament
are responsible for a great deal of needless misery in this world, and
it is high time these ordinances of another generation were sent to the
dust heap."

"In that last opinion I heartily agree with you," declared the
detective.

Henry ventured a quotation. He was much interested to learn whether
Hardcastle had any views on the ghost theory.

"Goethe says that matter cannot exist without spirit, or spirit without
matter. Would you sub-scribe to that, Mr. Hardcastle?"

"Partially. Matter can exist without spirit, which you may prove by
getting under an avalanche; but I do most emphatically agree that spirit
cannot exist without matter. 'Divorced from matter, where is life?' asks
Tyndall, and nobody can answer him."

"You misunderstand Goethe," declared Mr. May. "In metaphysics--"

"I have no use for metaphysics. Believe me, the solemn humbug of
metaphysics doesn't take in a policeman for a moment. Juggling with
words never advanced the world's welfare or helped the cause of truth.
What, for any practical purpose, does it matter how subjectively true a
statement may be if it is objectively false? Life is just as real as I
am myself--no more and no less--and all the metaphysical jargon in the
world won't prevent my shins from bleeding wet, red blood when I bark
them against