not the tempers and dispositions hereditary, as well as
decline, insanity, scrofula, and other physical complaints?"

The stranger paused again, and said, "Perhaps so. There is certainly
much mystery in human nature; more, probably, than we can conceive or be
aware of. Time, however, and the progress of science, will develop much.
But who was this Mrs. Lindsay that the man spoke of?"

"That lady, sir," replied the other, "is my mother."

The stranger, from a feeling of delicacy, made no observation upon this,
but proceeded to take another view of the same subject.

"Suppose, then," he added, "that we admit the fact that the eye of a
certain individual can transfuse, by the force of strong volition, an
evil influence into the being or bodily system of another--why should it
happen that an eye or touch charged with beneficence, instead of evil,
should fail to affect with a sanative contagion those who labor under
many diseases?"

"The only reply I can make to your question," said Woodward, "is this:
the one has been long and generally known to exist, whereas the latter
has never been heard of, which most assuredly would not have been the
case if it had ever existed; as for the cure of the King's Evil it is a
royal imposture."

"I believe in the latter," observed the other calmly.

"Upon what grounds?" asked his companion.

"Simply because I know a person who possesses the sanative power I speak
of."

"And I believe in the former," replied Woodward, "and upon better
grounds still, because I possess it myself."

"You will pardon me," said the other; "but I hesitate to believe that."

Woodward, who felt this imputation against his veracity with resentment,
suddenly pulled up his horse, and, turning himself on the saddle, looked
upon his companion with an expression that was as extraordinary as it
was blighting. The stranger, on the other hand, reining in his horse,
and taking exactly the same attitude as Woodward, bent his eye on him in
return; and there they sat opposite to each other, where we will leave
them until we describe the somewhat extraordinary man who had become the
fellow-traveller of the hero of the breakfast table.

[Illustration: PAGE 631-- The gaze was long and combative]

He was mounted upon a powerful charger; for indeed it was evident at
a glance that no other would have been equal to his weight. He was
well-dressed--that is to say, in the garb of a country gentleman of the
day. He wore his