g to convey very clearly again what he had before
expressed in words.

"If we were fellow-countrymen and had our native language in common,
we should not so easily misunderstand one another," replied the other.
"Come, forgive my lack of skill, and do not let us quarrel. Perhaps I
can help you. You may know Prague well, but I know it better. Will you
allow me to say that I know also whom it is you are seeking here?"

"Yes. You know. I have not changed since we last met, nor have
circumstances favoured me."

"Tell me--have you really seen this Unorna, and talked with her?"

"This morning."

"And she could not help you?"

"I refused to accept her help, until I had done all that was in my own
power to do."

"You were rash. And have you now done all, and failed?"

"I have."

"Then, if you will accept a humble suggestion from me, you will go back
to her at once."

"I know very little of her. I do not altogether trust her--"

"Trust! Powers of Eblis--or any other powers! Who talks of trust? Does
the wise man trust himself? Never. Then how can he dare trust any one
else?"

"Your cynical philosophy again!" exclaimed the Wanderer.

"Philosophy? I am a mysosophist! All wisdom is vanity, and I hate it!
Autology is my study, autosophy my ambition, autonomy my pride. I am the
great Panegoist, the would-be Conservator of Self, the inspired prophet
of the Universal I. I--I--I! My creed has but one word, and that word
but one letter, that letter represents Unity, and Unity is Strength. I
am I, one, indivisible, central! O I! Hail and live for ever!"

Again the little man's rich bass voice rang out in mellow laughter. A
very faint smile appeared upon his companion's sad face.

"You are happy, Keyork," he said. "You must be, since you can laugh at
yourself so honestly."

"At myself? Vain man! I am laughing at you, and at every one else, at
everything except myself. Will you go to Unorna? You need not trust her
any more than the natural infirmity of your judgment suggests."

"Can you tell me nothing more of her? Do you know her well?"

"She does not offer her help to every one. You would have done well to
accept it in the first instance. You may not find her in the same humour
again."

"I had supposed from what you said of her that she made a profession of
clairvoyance, or hypnotism, or mesmerism--whatever may be the right term
nowadays."

"It matters very little," answered Keyork, gravely. "I used to wonder at
A