"Pooh!" said he, "I don't believe a word he uttered."
"Still sceptical?" said the magician. "But to convince you of my power, I will show you any thing you like in my magic mirror."
"Very well, then, I should like to see Harkaway and Harvey at this present moment—just to ascertain what they are doing—that will be a test."
He chuckled as he said this.
But as he spoke the magic mirror grew light, and two figures were seen, set, as it were, in a frame.
Jack Harkaway the elder, was seated in an arm-chair reading; beside him stood his constant companion, Dick Harvey.
The latter's figure was the more remarkable of the two, and the attitude was not merely characteristic, but it was startlingly like life.
One hand was in his pocket; the other was at his face, the thumb pointing at his nose, the fingers outstretched towards the audience.
"What do you think of that?" asked Harry Girdwood, in low tones.
"Marvellous!" cried Mole; "that is Harkaway and Harvey, sure enough. Harvey has got something the matter with his nose."