the darker half of the globe, a
multitude of intertwined forms, outlined with pen and ink. Those of
the lighter hemisphere were beautiful as angels, with faint stars in
their hair. All were singing. The others, the denizens of the dark,
were twisted and contorted in agony, and each was drawn with such
certainty of prearrangement that the line which formed the arm of one
outlined the head of another. There were hundreds of them, and the
whole work was as intricate in design as the engraving on a bank-note,
and so packed with symbolism--according to Simeon's exegesis--that one
might study it for days. "Observe," said he, "the innumerable faces
formed by the line which divides the two worlds. Take these glasses."

Kate, by means of the powerful instrument which he thrust upon her,
was able to detect hundreds of other faces invisible to the unaided
eye. "It is wonderful. Who did it?"

"A Swedish servant-girl," answered Simeon, loudly, addressing every
one in the room. "She couldn't write her name; but when the spirit of
Raphael controlled her she could do this with her eyes shut. There's
nothing like that picture in the world. It cannot be duplicated by any
artist in the flesh."

"That's no dream," murmured Britt.

Pratt hurried them on, past many other equally wonderful paintings, to
his library, and as his guests filed in he faced them. "The things I
am about to show you have no equal anywhere. They have taken years to
collect, and have cost me more than a hundred thousand dollars. I can
show you but a few."

The library was a splendid room, rich with the light of the western
sun, whose arrangement instantly struck Kate Rice as unusual, for the
book-shelves were precisely like those of a butler's pantry. They
began at about four feet from the floor and reached entirely to the
ceiling, and were filled with splendid, neglected books, while beneath
a broad shelf, at their base, were rows of little brass knobs, each of
which indicated a shallow drawer. Each drawer had a lock and a small
plate which bore a letter and a number, not unlike the cabinet of a
numismatist.

"There are but two keys in existence," explained Simeon, with shining
face. "The one I now hold and the one in my safety vaults. No one is
permitted in this room without my secretary or myself." He moved down
the room between the cabinet and the big table. "Here is a message
from Columbus." He unlocked and drew out one of the drawers and laid
it upon the