enough?  Has he not made Colette Willy live before us?  A lesser writer might have plunged into elaborate details about her telephone number and her permanent address, but, like the true artist that he is, our author leaves all those things unsaid.  For though he can be a realist when necessary (as in the case of Wallis Budge, to which I shall refer directly), he does not hesitate to trust to the impressionist sketch when the situation demands it.

Wallis Budge is apparently the hero of the taie; at any rate, the author devotes most space to him—­some hundred and twenty lines or so.  He does not appear until page 341, by which time we are on familiar terms with some two or three thousand of the less important characters.  It is typical of the writer that, once he has described a character to us, has (so to speak) set him on his feet, he appears to lose interest in his creation, and it is only rarely that further reference is made to him.  Alfred Budd, for instance, who became British Vice-Consul of San Sebastian in 1907, and resides, as the intelligent reader will have guessed, at the San Sebastian British Vice-Consulate, obtains the M.V.O. in 1908.  Nothing is said, however, of the resultant effect on his character, nor is any adequate description given—­either then or later—­of the San Sebastian scenery.  On the other hand, Bucy, who first appears on page 340, turns up again on page 644 as the Marquess de Bucy, a Grandee of Spain.  I was half-expecting that the body would be discovered about this time, but the author is still busy over his protagonists, and only leaves the Marquess in order to introduce to us his three musketeers, de Bunsen, de Burgh, and de Butts.

But it is time that I returned to our hero, Dr. Wallis Budge.  Although Budge is a golfer of world-wide experience, having “conducted excavations in Egypt, the Island of Meroe, Nineveh and Mesopotamia,” it is upon his mental rather than his athletic abilities that the author dwells most lovingly.  The fact that in 1886 he wrote a pamphlet upon The Coptic History of Elijah the Tishbite, and followed it up in 1888 with one on The Coptic Martyrdom of George of Cappadocia (which is, of course, in every drawing-room) may not seem at first to have much bearing upon the tremendous events which followed later.  But the author is artistically right in drawing our attention to them; for it is probable that, had these popular works not been written, our hero would never have been encouraged to proceed with his Magical Texts of Za-Walda-Hawaryat, Tasfa Maryam, Sebhat-Le’ab, Gabra Shelase Tezasu, Aheta-Mikael, which had such a startling effect on the lives of all the other characters, and led indirectly to the finding of the blood-stain on the bath-mat.  My own suspicions fell immediately upon Thomas Rooke, of whom we are told nothing more than “R.W.S.,” which is obviously the cabbalistic sign of some secret society.