“No, sir, we are at liberty to do just as we please. It was your own idea going to Silas Farnum’s. That you happened to be told of it in advance created an artificial condition, otherwise you would have gone there in peace and happiness. In other words, it was ordained that you should desire to do that thing, and you were to do as you desired.”
The lawyer remained silent a moment, his face giving no indication either of belief or denial.
“Have you never been able to prevent or even modify the fulfilment of an act after having seen it in advance?”
“No, sir; never.”
“Then these scenes as presented to you are invariably correct, without the slightest change?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Cabot looked down at his friend with a feeling that was not without a touch of awe. Of the young man’s honesty he had not the slightest doubt, and his own recent experience seemed but one more proof of the correctness of his facts. He looked with a curious interest upon this mysterious yet simple Oriental squatting idly on the grass, his straw hat tilted back on his head, the dark face bent forward, as with careful fingers he gathered a bunch of clover.
“If this faculty never fails you your knowledge of future events is simply without limit. You can tell about the weather, the crops, the stock market, the result of wars, marriages, births, and deaths, and who the next president is to be.”
“Yes, sir,” he answered quietly, without looking up.
Mr. Cabot straightened up in his chair and rubbed his chin. His credulity had reached its limit, yet, if he could judge by the evidence already presented, the young man was adhering strictly to the truth. There followed a silence during which Betty, who in nibbling about had approached within a few feet of them, held out her head, and took the clover from Amos. Mr. Cabot brought a pencil and piece of paper from his pockets. “I would like to try one more experiment, with your permission. Will you write on that paper what I am to do at—well, say ten o’clock to-night?”