"Albertus Magnums? No, I never heard of magnums of that brand."
"Hah! 'Tisn't a wine, but a man. Albertus Magnus was a man who studied magic, one of the greatest of the magicians of old. He attributes wonderful powers to the powdered asphaltum of mummies."
"Oh, magnums of Mumm? Of course I have heard of magnums of Mumm."
"No! I don't mean wine; the mummy coffins were filled with a kind of pitch, and Albertus attributes wonderful powers to this old pitch which the ancient Egyptians poured hot over the dead. It was used by the Egyptians to prevent the ravages of time upon the faces of the dead. Now, I am going to paint the dials of my clock with mummy-pitch to prevent time ravaging the faces of my clock. Do you see? Hah!"
"I always said, Mr. Leigh, that you were a wonderful, a most wonderful man." Williams's mind had been plunged by the words of the other into a dense mist. He could see nothing and he was sure there must be a wonderfully profound meaning in the speaker's words because he could make nothing of them.
"And to-day I bought a mummy, the mummy of a great Egyptian prince, for I must have good mummy asphaltum to preserve the faces of my clock from the influence of time. Asphaltum is a bituminous pitch, as you know," said Leigh, getting down off the high stool and preening himself like a bedraggled raven.
By this time Williams began to realize that the dwarf had, for some reason or other, with a view to use in some unknown way, become possessed of a mummified prince. He had never before spoken to any one who owned a mummy; he knew, by report, that such things were to be seen in the British Museum, but he had never been inside the walls of that crushing-looking fane of history. It was utterly impossible for him to imagine any way in which a mummy could be employed; but this only went to prove how necessary to Leigh a mummy must be. Now that he came to think of the matter he found himself surprised Leigh had not had a mummy long ago. His face relaxed into a smile. "And what are you going to do with his royal highness?" he asked, chuckling.
"I only want the asphaltum as a pigment."
"But what are you going to do with his royal highness?" he repeated, being slow to relinquish this cleverness of his, which to him had the rare glory of a joke.
"Oh," said Leigh, preparing to go, "I am told they burn beautifully. What do you say to burning him as a guy in Welbeck Place on the fifth of November? Ha-ha-ha!" and with a harsh laugh the little man hurried out of the Hanover, leaving Mr. Williams pleased and puzzled.