person brought me the very book I needed. I surmised that the librarian
had told him of my difficulty. I was very grateful to the stranger. We
left together that afternoon, and our kindred studies gave us a common
topic of conversation. I found that his reading was extraordinarily wide,
and he was able to give me information about works which I had never
even heard of. He had the advantage over me that he could apparently
read, Hebrew as well as Arabic, and he had studied the Kabbalah in the
original.'

'And much good it did him, I have no doubt,' said Arthur. 'And what is he
by profession?'

Dr Porhoët gave a deprecating smile.

'My dear fellow, I hardly like to tell you. I tremble in every limb at
the thought of your unmitigated scorn.'

'Well?'

'You know, Paris is full of queer people. It is the chosen home of every
kind of eccentricity. It sounds incredible in this year of grace, but my
friend Oliver Haddo claims to be a magician. I think he is quite
serious.'

'Silly ass!' answered Arthur with emphasis.




2