Dead--all, I tell you, all of these arts. And painting is only in two
dimensions--a poor copy of nature. The theatre has its possibilities,
but is too restricted in space. Music is alive. It moves; but its
message is not articulate to _all_. I want an art that will be
understood and admired at a glance by the world from pole to pole. I
want an art that will live and move and tell a noble tale. I want an art
that will appeal to the eye by its colouring and the soul by its
beautiful designs. Where is that legend-laden art? Hitherto it has not
existed. I have found it. I have tracked it down until I am the master
who by a touch can liberate elemental forces, which will not destroy,
like those of Illowski's, but will elevate the soul and make mankind one
great nation, one loving brotherhood. Ah! to open once more those doors
of faith closed by the imperious dogmas of science--open them upon a
lovely land of mystery. Mankind must have mystery. And beyond each
mystery lies another. This will be our new religion."

Gerald had caught the enthusiasm of this swelling prologue and rose, his
face alight with curiosity.

"And that art is--is--?" he stammered.

"That art is--pyrotechny." It was too much for the young man's nerves,
and he fell back in his chair, purple with suppressed laughter. Angrily
darting at him and catching his left shoulder in a vicelike grip,
Karospina growled:

"You fool, how dare you mock something you know nothing of?" He shook
his guest roughly.

"Uncle, uncle, be patient! Tell Mr. Shannon, and he, too, will become a