Day after day went by, and Father AdolfⒶ was a busy man, for he was the head of the Commission charged with trying and punishing the magician; but he had no luck, he could come upon no trace of the necromancer. He was disappointed and exasperated,

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and he swore hard and drank hard, but nothing came of it, he made no progress in his hunt. So, as a vent for his wrath he turned upon the poor Duplicates, declaring them to be evil spirits, wandering devils, and condemned them to the stake on his own arbitrary authority, but 44 told me he (44,) wouldn'tⒶ allow them to be hurt, they being useful in the building up of the magician's reputation. Whether 44 was really their protector or not, no matter, they certainly had protection, for every time Father AdolfⒶ chainedⒶ them to the stake they vanished and left the stake empty before the fire could be applied, and straightway they would be found at work in the shop and not in any way frightened or disturbed. After several failures Father AdolfⒶ gave it up in a rageⒶ, for he was becoming ridiculous and a butt for everybody's private laughter. To cover his chagrin he pretended that he had not really tried to burn them, he only wanted to scare them; and said heⒶ was only postponing the roasting, and that it would take place presently, when he should find that the right time had come. But not many believed him, and Doangivadam, to show how little he cared for Adolf's pretensions, took out a fire insurance policy upon his Duplicate. It was an impudent thing to do, and most irreverent, and made Father AdolfⒶ very angry, but he pretended that he did not mind it.

As 44 had expected, the Duplicates fell to making love to the young women, and in such strenuous fashion that they soon cut out the OriginalsⒶ and left them out in the cold; which made bad blood, and constant quarrels and fights resulted. Soon the castle was no better than a lunatic asylum. It was a cat-and-dog's life all around, but there was no helping it. The master loved peace, and he tried his best to reconcile the parties and make them friendly to each other, but it was not possible, the brawling and fighting went on in spite of all he could do. Forty-Four and I went about, visible to each other but to no one else, and we witnessed these affrays, and 44 enjoyed them and was perfectly charmed with them. Well, he had his own tastes. I was not always invisible, of course, for that would have caused remark; I showed up often enough to prevent that.

Whenever I thought I saw a good opportunity I tried to interest 44 in the life eternal, but the innate frivolity of his nature contin-

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ually defeated my efforts, he could not seem to care for anything but building up the magician's reputation. He said he was interested in that, and in one other thing,Ⓐ the human race. He had nettled me more than once by seemingⒶ to speak slightingly of the human race. Finally, one day, being annoyed once more by some such remark, I said, acidly—

“You don't seem to think much of the human race; it's a pity you have to belong to it.”

He looked a moment or twoⒶ upon me, apparently in gentle wonder, thenⒶ answered—

“What makes you think I belong to it?”

The bland audacity of it so mixed my emotions that it was a question which would get first expression, anger or mirth; but mirth got precedence, and I laughed. Expecting him to laugh, too, in response; but he did not. He looked a little hurt at my levity, and said, as in mild reproach—

“I think the human race is well enough, in its way,Ⓐ all things considered, but surely, August, I have never intimated that I belonged to it. Reflect. Now have I?”

It was difficult to know what to say; I seemed to be a little stunned. Presently I said, wonderingly—

“It makes me dizzy; I don't quite know where I am; it is as if I had had a knock on the head. I have hadⒶ no such confusing and bewildering and catastrophicalⒶ experience as this before. It is a new and strange and fearful idea: a person who is a person and yet not a human being. I cannot grasp it, I do not know how it can be, I have never dreamed of so tremendous a thing, so amazing a thing! Since you are not a human being, what are you?”

“Ah,” he said, “now we have arrived at a pointⒶ where words are useless; words cannot even convey human thought capably, and they can do nothing at all with thoughts whose realmⒶ and orbit are outside the human solar system, so to speak. I will use the language of my country, where words are not known. During half a moment my spirit shall speak to yours and tell you something about me. Not much, for it is not much of meⒶ that you would be able to understand, with your limited human mentality.”

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While he was speaking, my head was illuminated by a single sudden flash as of lightning, and I recognised that it had conveyed to me some knowledge of him;Ⓐ enough to fill me with aweⒶ . Envy, too—I do not mind confessing it. He continued—

“Now then, things which have puzzled you heretofore are not a mystery to you any more, for you are now aware that there is nothing I cannot do—and lay it on the magician and increase his reputation; andⒶ you are alsoⒶ now aware that the difference between a human being and me is as theⒶ difference between a drop of water and the sea, a rushlight and the sun, the difference between the infinitely trivial and the infinitely sublime! I say—we'll be comrades, and have scandalous good timesⒶ!” and he slapped me on the shoulder, and his face was all alight with good-fellowship.

I said I was in awe of him, and was more moved to pay him reverence than to—

“Reverence!” he mocked; “put it away; the sun doesn't care for the rushlight's reverence, put it away. Come, we'll be boys together and comrades! Is itⒶ agreed?”

I saidⒶ I was too much wounded, just nowⒶ, to have any heart in levities, I must wait a little and get somewhat over this hurt; that I would rather beseech and persuade him to put all light things aside for a season and seriously and thoughtfully study my unjustly disesteemed race, whereby I was sure he would presently come to estimate it at its right and true value, and worthy of the sublime rank it had always held, undisputed, as the noblest work of God.

He was evidently touched, and said he was willing, and would do according to my desire, putting light things aside and taking up this small study in all heartiness and candor.

I was deeply pleased; so pleased that I would not allow his thoughtlessⒶ characterization of it as a “small” study to greatly mar my pleasure; and to this end admonishing myself to remember that he was speaking a foreign language and must not be expected to perceive nice distinctions in the values of words. He sat musing a little while, then he said in his kindest and thoughtfulest manner—

“I am sure I can say with truth that I have no prejudices against the human race or other bugs, and no aversions, no malignities. I

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have known the race a long time, and out of my heart I can say that I have always felt more sorry for it than ashamed of it.”

He said it with the gratified look of a person who has uttered a graceful and flattering thing. By God, I think he expected thanks! He did not get them; I said not a word. That made a pause, and was a little awkward for him for the moment; then he went on—

“I have often visited this world—often. It shows that I felt an interest in this race; it is proof, proof absolute, that I felt an interest in it.” He paused, then looked up with one of those inane self-approving smiles on his face that are so trying, and added, “there is nothing just like it in any other world, it is a race by itself, and in many ways amusing.”

He evidently thought he had said another handsome thing; he had the satisfied look of a person who thought he was oozing compliments at every pore. I retorted, with bitter sarcasm—I couldn't help it—

“As ‘amusing’ as a basket of monkeys, no doubt!”

It clean failed! He didn't know it was sarcasm.

“Yes,”Ⓐ he said, serenely, “as amusing as those—and even more so, it may be claimed; for monkeys, in their mental and moral freaks show not so great variety, and therefore are the less entertaining.”

This was too much. I asked, coldly—

But he was gone.ⒶⒶ