“And now, my dear,” said I, “perhaps you will tell Mr. Gilbert how I did all this.”
And then she told him the story that I had told.
Mr. Gilbert looked from the one to the other of us with a troubled air.
“Of course I do not doubt either of you, or rather I do not doubt that you believe what you say. All would be right if I could bring myself to credit that such a force as that you speak of can possibly exist.”
“That is a matter,” said I, “which I can easily prove to you by actual demonstration. If you can wait a short time, until my wife and I have had something to eat—for I am nearly famished, and I am sure she must be—I will set your mind at rest upon that point.”
“I will wait here,” said Mr. Gilbert, “and smoke a cigar. Don’t hurry yourselves. I shall be glad to have some time to think about what you have told me.”
When we had finished the dinner, which had been set aside for us, I went upstairs and got my knapsack, and we both joined Mr. Gilbert in the smoking-room. I showed him the little machine, and explained, very briefly, the principle of its construction. I did not give any practical demonstration of its action, because there were people walking about the corridor who might at any moment come into the room; but, looking out of the window, I saw that the night was much clearer. The wind had dissipated the clouds, and the stars were shining brightly.
“If you will come up the street with me,” said I to Mr. Gilbert, “I will show you how this thing works.”
“That is just what I want to see,” he answered.
“I will go with you,” said my wife, throwing a shawl over her head. And we started up the street.