lane beyond the gas-works, to rehearse a few miracles in private.

There was possibly a certain want of originality in his attempts, for

apart from his will-power Mr. Fotheringay was not a very exceptional

man. The miracle of Moses' rod came to his mind, but the night was dark

and unfavourable to the proper control of large miraculous snakes. Then

he recollected the story of "Tannhäuser" that he had read on the back of

the Philharmonic programme. That seemed to him singularly attractive and

harmless. He stuck his walking-stick--a very nice Poona-Penang

lawyer--into the turf that edged the footpath, and commanded the dry

wood to blossom. The air was immediately full of the scent of roses, and

by means of a match he saw for himself that this beautiful miracle was

indeed accomplished. His satisfaction was ended by advancing footsteps.

Afraid of a premature discovery of his powers, he addressed the

blossoming stick hastily: "Go back." What he meant was "Change back;"

but of course he was confused. The stick receded at a considerable

velocity, and incontinently came a cry of anger and a bad word from the

approaching person. "Who are you throwing brambles at, you fool?" cried

a voice. "That got me on the shin."

"I'm sorry, old chap," said Mr. Fotheringay, and then realising the

awkward nature of the explanation, caught nervously at his moustache.

He saw Winch, one of the three Immering constables, advancing.

What d'yer mean by it?" asked the constable. "Hullo! It's you, is it?

The gent that broke the lamp at the Long Dragon!"

Tales of Space and Time