, were caught and held
back in a web of my own weaving? And, if so, has he attained while I
have lost?

"What if that strange tale which Pent-Ah and Neb-Anat told me of their
visit to his house--told, as I thought, to hide their failure under a
veil of lies--was true? If so, then he has passed the threshold and
taken a place only a little lower than the seats of the gods, a place
that I may not approach, barred by the penalty of my accursed folly and
pride! Ah well, be it so or be it not, are not the fates of all men in
the hands of the High Gods who see all things? We see but a little, and
that little, with their help, we must do according to the faith and the
hope that is in us."

At this moment there came a knock at the door. It opened at his bidding,
and a dirty-faced, ragged-frocked little girl shuffled into the room
holding out a letter in her hard, grimy, claw-like hand.

"'Ere's somethin' as has just come for you, Mister Phadrig. Muvver told
me ter bring it up, and wot'll yer want for supper, and will yer give me
the money?" she said in a piping monotone, still holding out her hand
after he had taken the letter. He gave her sixpence, saying:

"Two eggs and some bread. I will make my coffee myself."

She took the coin and shuffled out quickly, for she went not a little in
awe of this dark-faced foreign man from mysterious regions beyond her
ken, who was doubtless a magician of some sort, and could kill her or
change her into a rat by just breathing on her, if he wanted to.

Meantime Nitocris and Brenda were having what the latter called "a
perfectly lovely time" in Regent Street and Bond Street and other
purlieus of that London paradise which the genius of commerce has
created for the delight of his richest and most lavish-handed votaries.
Brenda spent her ten dollars and a few thousands more, and then, as it
was getting on to dinner-time and Nitocris absolutely refused to let her
father eat his meal alone, she ran her out to Wimbledon at a speed for
which a mere man would have inevitably been fined, asked herself to
dinner, and made herself entirely delightful to the Professor.

But in spite of all her cunning wiles and winning ways she left in
absolute ignorance of the subject of the forthcoming lecture.

CHAPTER IX

"THE WILDERNESS," WIMBLEDON COMMON

The little estate on Wimbledon Common, which had been in Professor
Marmion's family for three generations, was called "The Wilderness." The
h