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.