universe for that matter--in the grip of this little brain. I would not

change. Even now."

He looked at the little phial. "There will be no need of sleep again,"

he said. The next day at noon, punctual to the minute, he entered his

lecture theatre, put his hat on the end of the table as his habit was,

and carefully selected a large piece of chalk. It was a joke among his

students that he could not lecture without that piece of chalk to fumble

in his fingers, and once he had been stricken to impotence by their

hiding his supply. He came and looked under his grey eyebrows at the

rising tiers of young fresh faces, and spoke with his accustomed studied

commonness of phrasing. "Circumstances have arisen--circumstances beyond

my control," he said and paused, "which will debar me from completing

the course I had designed. It would seem, gentlemen, if I may put the

thing clearly and briefly, that--Man has lived in vain."

The students glanced at one another. Had they heard aright? Mad? Raised

eyebrows and grinning lips there were, but one or two faces remained

intent upon his calm grey-fringed face. "It will be interesting," he was

saying, "to devote this morning to an exposition, so far as I can make

it clear to you, of the calculations that have led me to this

conclusion. Let us assume--"

He turned towards the blackboard, meditating a diagram in the way that

was usual to him. "What was that about 'lived in vain?'" whispered one

student to another. "Listen," said the other, nodding towards the

Tales of Space and Time