CHAPTER XIV.

PATTERS now went on charm

M

ingly. All existence seemed to take a richer colouring,

and there was something, Paul said, which, in Professor Tyndall's words, 'gave fulness and tone to it, but which he could neither analyse nor comprehend.' But at last a change came. One morning, whilst Virginia was ranging Paul's moustaches, she frightened almost into a fit by a sudden

was

apparition at the window.

It was a

hideous hairy figure, perfectly naked but for a band of silver which it wore about its neck. For a moment it did nothing but grin and stare; then, uttering a discordant scream, it flung into Virginia's lap a filthy piece of carrion, and in an instant it had bounded away with an almost miraculous activity.

Virginia shrieked with disgust and terror, and clung to Paul's knees for protection. He, however, in some strange way, seemed unmoved and preoccupied. All at once, to her intense surprise, she saw his face light up with an expression of triumphant eagerness. The missing link!' he exclaimed, 'the missing

link at last! Thank God-I beg pardon for my unspeakable blasphemy-I mean, thank circumstances over which I have no control. I must this instant go out and hunt for it. Give me some pro visions in a knapsack, for I will not come back till I have caught it.'

This was a fearful blow to Virginia. She fell at Paul's feet weeping, and besought him in piteous accents that he would not thus abandon her.

'I must,' said the Professor solemnly, 'for I am going in pursuit of Truth. To arrive at Truth is man's perfect and most rapturous happiness. You must surely know that, even if I have forgotten to tell it to you. To pursue truth-holy

truth for holy truth's sake-is a more solemn pleasure than even frizzling your hair.'

'Oh,' cried Virginia, hysterically, 'I don't care two straws for truth.

earth is the good of it?'

What on

'It is its own end,' said the Professor. 'It is its own exceeding great reward. I must be off at once in search of it. Good-bye for the present. Seek truth on your own account, and be unspeakably happy also, because you know that I am seeking it.'

The Professor remained away for three days. For the first two of them Virginia was inconsolable. She wandered about mournfully with her head dejected. She

very often sighed; she very often uttered the name of Paul. At last she surprised herself by exclaiming aloud to the irresponsive solitude, 'Oh, Paul, until you were gone, I never knew how passionately I loved you.' No sooner were these words out of her mouth than she stood still, horror-stricken. 'Alas!' she cried, 'and have I really come to this? I am in a state of deadly sin, and there is no priest here to confess to! Alone, alone I must conquer my forbidden love as I may. But, ah me, what a guilty thing I am!'

As she uttered these words, her eyes fell on a tin box of the Professor's, marked 'Private,' which he always kept carefully locked, and which had before now excited

H