MELIPHASTE had been reasoning with ThÉophraste, and using all the arguments of spiritualists to persuade him to make an effort to rid himself of the spirit of Cartouche.

“However,” said ThÉophraste, “I thank you for the interest you have taken in me, and for your sympathy; but I tell you, you can do nothing for me. You say I am sick, but I am not. If I were you could cure me. You also say that I am to drive away this Cartouche; but, though that is easily said, I can assure you that it is not so easily done. It is impossible, my dear M. Eli-phaste.”

“And yet,” said M. Eliphaste, “it is necessary. For if we do not succeed in driving him out, we must kill him. That is an operation the result of which I cannot vouch. It is a delicate operation, and full of dangers.”

M. Eliphaste had hoped that this obsession of Cartouche was only imaginary, and so by reasoning he could drive it away. But, alas, the reality of it was only too true, and ThÉophraste, while willing to help him, could not get himself to believe M. Eliphaste’s arguments.

“You understand,” said M. Eliphaste, “your case is most extraordinary. Everybody in the world has lived before, and will live again. This is the Law of Karma. It may be possible to find some one who was a friend of Cartouche’s. The true object of that wonderful evolution of souls through the bodies, is to develop and qualify them to enjoy the perfect happiness which will finally be the inheritance of the fortunate ones who will enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. It is thought that at each birth, the personality differs from the preceding one, but it is only the veritable, divine and spiritual I. These divers personalities are in some measures only the links of the infinite chain of life, which constitutes, throughout the ages, our immortal individuality.”

The admirable wisdom of the teaching appealed to ThÉophraste immensely. Eliphaste had shown himself so much the master of his thoughts, that he could not understand why he had remained ignorant so long, without even having suspected these wonderful truths. He saw the great difference between Eliphaste and Adolphe, the difference, as he said, “between the Man of Reason and the Learned Ape.”

Eliphaste continued: “When one is persuaded of this great truth, one need not be astonished at the wonderful things that happen in the present-if they recall events of former times. But to live according to the Law of Wisdom, one must live in the present, and not look behind.”

ThÉophraste had too often looked behind. His mind had occupied itself with thoughts of the past. If this had continued, in a very short time ThÉophraste would have gone quite mad.

And so ThÉophraste thought: “I must either forget Cartouche, throw him off completely, or develop all his characteristics.”

M. Eliphaste told them that what men call vocations to-day were only a latent revelation of the past, and they could only be explained that way. He told them that what was called facility among men to-day was nothing else but retrospective sympathy for some objects that they knew better than others, having studied them better before the real and actual life. He said that we even assume the gesture of the past without knowing it. He himself had seen, on the eve of the Battle of the Bourget, two young men fall near him, handsome as demigods, brave as Castor and Pollux, and who succumbed with grace that the heroes showed in dying at Salamis, Marathon, or at Platies. M. Eliphaste then pressed ThÉophraste to his heart, breathed on his forehead and his eyes, and then asked him if he was quite persuaded of the truth. He said that to be happy we must seek to give an account of ourselves, as to the perpetual changes of our condition, and that by this we learned to live in the present, and to comprehend that the future belonged to us entirely. Are we not the children of the Eternal, in whose eyes a thousand years are as a day, and a day as a thousand years?

ThÉophraste said to him that he was not at all astonished at having been Cartouche-it seemed so natural to his mind-that he would never more dwell on it, and he declared that at present Cartouche was driven away.

Thereupon Marceline asked what time it was, and Adolphe told her it was eleven o’clock, and so they rose to take their leave. However, just before leaving, an incident occurred which went to prove too clearly that the spirit of Cartouche had not left ThÉophraste.

Upon Adolphe’s declaring that it was eleven o’clock, ThÉophraste took out his watch and contended that it was half after eleven, and after a few words, he said, “You can cut off my right hand if I am wrong.”

Turning to M. Eliphaste, that gentleman confirmed M. Lecamus’ statement, whereupon ThÉophraste picked up a small knife which was lying near, and would have severed his right hand but for M. Eliphaste, who, grasping the situation, seized ThÉophraste’s uplifted hand with dexterity and incredible strength. He ordered him to drop the knife, and told him that he was not keeping to the compact. M. Eliphaste felt that it was no good arguing with him on the matter of the spirit of Cartouche, and despaired of ever ridding him of the spirit by reasoning. He turned to Adolphe and said, “Let us go. It is too late. There is nothing to do but to kill him.”