you do, the danger to yourself will be so
terrible that even I may be unable to help you."

Mrs. Gimpson shivered, and more than ever impressed by his marvellous
powers made her way slowly home, where she found the unconscious Mr.
Boxer relating his adventures again with much gusto to a married couple
from next door.

"It's a wonder he's alive," said Mr. Jem Thompson, looking up as the old
woman entered the room; "it sounds like a story-book. Show us that cut
on your head again, mate."

The obliging Mr. Boxer complied.

"We're going on with 'em after they've 'ad sup-per," continued Mr.
Thompson, as he and his wife rose to depart. "It'll be a fair treat to
me to see old Silver bowled out."

Mrs. Gimpson sniffed and eyed his retreating figure disparagingly; Mrs.
Boxer, prompted by her husband, began to set the table for supper.

It was a lengthy meal, owing principally to Mr. Boxer, but it was over at
last, and after that gentleman had assisted in shutting up the shop they
joined the Thompsons, who were waiting outside, and set off for Crowner's
Alley. The way was enlivened by Mr. Boxer, who had thrills of horror
every ten yards at the idea of the supernatural things he was about to
witness, and by Mr. Thompson, who, not to be outdone, persisted in
standing stock-still at frequent intervals until he had received the
assurances of his giggling better-half that he would not be made to
vanish in a cloud of smoke.

By the time they reached Mr. Silver's abode the party had regained its
decorum, and, except for a tremendous shudder on the part of Mr. Boxer as
his gaze fell on a couple of skulls which decorated the magician's table,
their behaviour left nothing to be desired. Mrs. Gimpson, in a few
awkward words, announced the occasion of their visit. Mr. Boxer she
introduced as a friend of the family from London.

"I will do what I can," said the old man, slowly, as his visitors seated
themselves, "but I can only tell you what I see. If I do not see all, or
see clearly, it cannot be helped."

Mr. Boxer winked at Mr. Thompson, and received an understanding pinch in
return; Mrs. Thompson in a hot whisper told them to behave themselves.

The mystic preparations were soon complete. A little cloud of smoke,
through which the fierce red eyes of the astrologer peered keenly at Mr.
Boxer, rose from the table. Then he poured various liquids into a small
china bowl and, holding up his hand to command silence, gazed ste