Whilst on the way to my room for the purpose of retiring I noticed Chimer sitting on his bed. I entered his room. He was smoking his pipe, and his face wore a look of exultant satisfaction. I could hardly be surprised.
“Well?” said he.
“Well?” replied I.
“I should like to know how you account for what occurred to-night.”
“At present I cannot account for it. Can you?”
“Yes, but I fear your prejudices would not allow of your admitting my explanation.”
“You think, of course, that the spirit of old Isaac sent these balls rolling about the room.”
“Certainly, I do.”
“But if,” said I, with the vain rashness of superior knowledge, “as you admit, a spirit gives neither chemical or dynamic evidence of its presence, how can it act physically upon inert bodies?”
“My dear fellow, as I have often told you, we do not for a moment pretend to be able to give an exhaustive explanation of phenomena of this class. We simply say that in incidents such as this, where what are called ‘natural’ causes are eliminated from the field of consideration by the fact of their absence, it is reasonable to fall back on what is called the ‘supernatural.’ As I have been careful to explain to you more than once, this may be a branch of the natural, and may be recognised some day as a legitimate subject for scientific research by those who now treat us with derision.”