d a yellow night-cap. He did not
pay the slightest attention to either me or his daughter, and, except
for the lighted cigar which he kept shifting between his lips, he
might have been taken for a wax dummy.

"Then I began to speak, feebly, hesitating like a child.

"'How did you come into this compartment? You--you do not possess
wings, I suppose? You could not have been here all the time. Will you
explain--explain to me? See, I ask you very humbly, for I do not
understand. This is the nineteenth century, and these things don't fit
in. I'm wearing a Dunlap hat--I've got a copy of the New York _Herald_
in my bag--President Roosevelt is alive, and everything is so very
unromantic in the world! Is this real magic? Perhaps I'm filled with
hallucinations. Perhaps I'm asleep and dreaming. Perhaps you are not
really here--nor I--nor anybody, nor anything!'

"The train plunged into a tunnel, and when again it dashed out from
the other end the cold wind blew furiously in my face from the farther
window. It was wide open; the professor was gone.

"'Papa has changed to another compartment,' she said, quietly. 'I
think perhaps you were beginning to bore him.'

"Her eyes met mine and she smiled.

"'Are you very much bewildered?'

"I looked at her in silence. She sat very quietly, her hands clasped
above her knee, her curly hair glittering to her girdle. A long robe,
almost silvery in the twilight, clung to her young figure; her bare
feet were thrust deep into a pair of shimmering Eastern slippers.

"'When you fled,' she sighed, 'I was asleep and there was no time to
lose. I barely had a moment to go to Bombay, to find papa, and return
in time to join you. This is an East-Indian costume.'

"Still I was silent.

"'Are you shocked?' she asked, simply.

"'No,' I replied, in a dull voice, 'I'm past that.'

"'You are very rude,' she said, with the tears starting to her eyes.

"'I do not mean to be. I only wish to go away--away somewhere and find
out what my name is.'

"'Your name is Harold Kensett.'

"'Are you sure?' I asked, eagerly.

"'Yes--what troubles you?'

"'Is everything plain to you? Are you a sort of prophet and
second-sight medium? Is nothing hidden from you?' I asked.

"'Nothing,' she faltered. My head ached and I clasped it in my hand.

"A sudden change came over her. 'I am human--believe me!' she said,
with piteous eagerness. 'Indeed, I do not seem strange to those who
understand. You wonder, because