Marcus handed it to him. Tiffles took it, like an expert, between a thumb and finger, and tapped it with his stick. It answered back with a muffled clink.
"It is hollow, and contains some soft non-metallic substance. Ah! here we have it." And Tiffles, unscrewing a nicely fitting cap from the drum, drew out a close roll of paper. He unfolded it with trembling fingers.
The upper portion of the paper was covered with neatly drawn diagrams, which bore some semblance to the machine. Beneath, in the fine copperplate hand of the inventor, were these memorable words:
"Eliphalet Minford's original plan of PERPETUAL MOTION, to which he has devoted his fortune, and twenty years of labor. Perseverantia vincit omnia."
"Christmas Day, 185-."
Then followed a careful technical description of the plan, and a mention of the fact that on two occasions the machine had moved. One occasion was the night of April 10, 184-, when the mass of wheels started with a sudden click, but stopped in three seconds by the clock. The other occasion was daybreak, December 30, 185-, when the works began to move of their own accord, and did not stop for six seconds. This record had evidently been made by the inventor for his private reference, and concealed in the brass drum for safe keeping.
Tiffles read with bated breath; and Marcus listened in astonishment.
"What do you think of it?" asked Marcus.
"I think," replied Tiffles, "with every respect for the memory of the inventor, that he was insane. Perpetual motion, without an exhaustive power--or, in other words, the eternal motion of a thing by its own inherent properties--is a simple impossibility. To cite familiar illustrations of its absurdity, you might as well try to lift yourself by the straps of your boots, or pour a quart into a pint pot. I wasted six months on perpetual motion when I was a boy, and gave it up. Every inventive genius bothers his head with this nonsensical problem, till he learns that he is a fool. Of course, I say this with every possible regard for your deceased friend. He was insane on this point--quoad hoc, as the lawyers have it--without question, or he would not have thrown away twenty years on it;--or twenty-three years, I should say, since the paper is dated, you observe, three years ago."
"But Mr. Minford says, in that document, that the machine moved twice. He could have no object in deceiving himself."