Alwyn looked at him inquiringly and with a perplexed air.

“You speak in enigmas,” he said somewhat vexedly.  “However, the whole thing is an enigma and would puzzle the most sagacious head.  That the physicial workings of the brain, in a site of trance, should arouse in me a passion of love for an imaginary being, and, at the same time, enable to write a poem such as must make the fame of any man, is certainly a remarkable and noteworthy result of scientific mesmerism!”

“Now, my dear sir,” interrupted Heliobas in a tone of good-natured remonstrance,—­“do not—­if you have any respect for science at all—­do not, I beg of you, talk to me of the ‘physical workings’ of a dead brain?”

“A dead brain!” echoed Alwyn.  “What do you mean?”

“What I say,” returned Heliobas, composedly. “‘Physical workings’ of any kind are impossible unless the motive power of physical life be in action.  You, regarded as a human creature merely, had during seven hours practically ceased to be,—­the vital principle no longer existed in your body, having taken its departure together with its inseparable companion, the Soul.  When it returned, it set the clockwork of your material mechanism in motion again, obeying the sovereignty of the Spirit that sought to express by material means, the utterance of heaven-inspired thought.  Thus your hand mechanically found its way to the pen—­ thus you wrote, unconscious of what you were writing, yielding yourself entirely to the guidance of the spiritual part of your nature, which at that particular juncture was absolutely predominant, though now weighted anew by earthy influences it has partially relaxed its supernal sway.  All this I readily perceive and understand ... but what you did, and where you were conducted during the time of your complete severance from the tenement of clay in which you are again imprisoned, ... this I have yet to learn.”

While Heliobas was speaking, Alwyn’s countenance had grown vaguely troubled, and now into his deep poetic eyes there came a look of sudden penitence.

“True!” he said softly, almost humbly, “I will tell you everything while I remember it,—­though it is not likely I shall ever forget!  I believe there must be some truth after all in what you say concerning the Soul, ... at any rate, I do not at present feel inclined to call your theories in question.  To begin with, I find myself unable altogether to explain what it was that happened to me during my conversation with you last night.  It was a very strange sensation!  I recollect that I had expressed a wish to be placed under your magnetic or electric influence, and that you had refused my request.  Then an odd idea suggested itself to me—­ namely, that I could if I chose compel your assent,—­and, filled with this notion, I think I addressed you, or was about to address you, in a rather peremptory manner, when—­all at once—­a flash of blinding light struck me fiercely across the eyes like a scourge!  Stung with the hot pain, and dazzled by the glare, I turned away from you and fled ... or so it seemed—­fled on my own instinctive impulse ... into darkness!”