with Eric as your escort," he added, to Lady Muriel, who had joined us
while he was speaking.

"You must be as entertaining as Cerberus--'three gentlemen rolled into
one'--" Lady Muriel said to her companion. "It will be a grand

military exploit!"
"A sort of Forlorn Hope?" the Captain modestly suggested.

"You do pay pretty compliments!" laughed his fair cousin. "Good day to
you, gentlemen three--or rather deserters three!" And the two young

folk entered the carriage and were driven away.
"How long will your sketch take?" said Arthur.

"Well," I said, "I should like an hour for it. Don't you think you had
better go without me? I'll return by train. I know there's one in

about an hour's time."
"Perhaps that would be best," said the Earl. "The Station is quite close."

So I was left to my own devices, and soon found a comfortable seat,
at the foot of a tree, from which I had a good view of the ruins.

"It is a very drowsy day," I said to myself, idly turning over the
leaves of the sketch-book to find a blank page. "Why, I thought you

were a mile off by this time!" For, to my surprise, the two walkers
were back again.

"I came back to remind you," Arthur said, "that the trains go every ten
minutes--"

"Nonsense!" I said. "It isn't the Metropolitan Railway!"
"It is the Metropolitan Railway," the Earl insisted. "'This is a part

of Kensington."
"Why do you talk with your eyes shut?" said Arthur. "Wake up!"

"I think it's the heat makes me so drowsy," I said, hoping, but not
feeling quite sure, that I was talking sense. "Am I awake now?"

"I think not, "the Earl judicially pronounced. "What do you think,
Doctor? He's only got one eye open!"

"And he's snoring like anything!" cried Bruno. "Do wake up, you dear
old thing!" And he and Sylvie set to work, rolling the heavy head from

side to side, as if its connection with the shoulders was a matter of
no sort of importance.

And at last the Professor opened his eyes, and sat up, blinking at us
with eyes of utter bewilderment. "Would you have the kindness to

mention," he said, addressing me with his usual old-fashioned courtesy,
"whereabouts we are just now and who we are, beginning with me?"

I thought it best to begin with the children. "This is Sylvie. Sir;
and this is Bruno."

"Ah, yes! I know them well enough!" the old man murmured. "Its myself
I'm most anxious about. And perhaps you'll be good enough to mention,

at the same time, how I got here?"
"A harder problem occurs to me," I ventured to say: "and that is, how

you're to get back again."
"True, true!" the Professor replied. "That's the Problem, no doubt.

Viewed as a Problem, outside of oneself, it is a most interesting one.
Viewed as a portion of one's own biography, it is, I must admit, very

distressing!" He groaned, but instantly added, with a chuckle,
"As to myself, I think you mentioned that I am--"

"Oo're the Professor!" Bruno shouted in his ear. "Didn't oo know that?
Oo've come from Outland! And it's ever so far away from here!"

The Professor leapt to his feet with the agility of a boy.
"Then there's no time to lose!" he exclaimed anxiously.

"I'll just ask this guileless peasant, with his brace of buckets
that contain (apparently) water, if he'll be so kind as to direct us.

Guileless peasant!" he proceeded in a louder voice.
"Would you tell us the way to Outland?"

The guileless peasant turned with a sheepish grin. "Hey?" was all he said.
"The way--to--Outland!" the Professor repeated.

The guileless peasant set down his buckets and considered. "Ah dunnot--"
"I ought to mention," the Professor hastily put in, "that whatever you

say will be used in evidence against you."
The guileless peasantinstantly resumed his buckets. "Then ah says

nowt!" he answered briskly, and walked away at a great pace.
The children gazed sadly at the rapidly vanishing figure. "He goes

very quick!" the Professor said with a sigh. "But I know that was the
right thing to say. I've studied your English Laws. However, let's

ask this next man that's coming. He is not guileless, and he is not a
peasant--but I don't know that either point is of vital importance."

It was, in fact, the Honourable Eric Lindon, who had apparently
fulfilled his task of escorting Lady Muriel home, and was now strolling

leisurely up and down the road outside the house, enjoying; a solitary
cigar.

"Might I trouble you, Sir, to tell us the nearest way to Outland!"
Oddity as he was, in outward appearance, the Professor was, in that

essential nature which no outwarddisguise could conceal, a thorough
gentleman.

And, as such, Eric Lindon accepted him instantly. He took the cigar
from his mouth, and delicately shook off the ash, while he considered.

"The name sounds strange to me," he said. "I doubt if I can help you?'
"It is not very far from Fairyland," the Professor suggested.

Eric Lindon's eye-brows were slightly raised at these words,
and an amused smile, which he courteously tried to repress,

flitted across his handsome face: "A trifle cracked!" he muttered
to himself. "But what a jolly old patriarch it is!" Then he turned

to the children. "And ca'n't you help him, little folk?" he said,
with a gentleness of tone that seemed to win their hearts at once.

"Surely you know all about it?
'How many miles to Babylon?

Three-score miles and ten.
Can I get there by candlelight?

Yes, and back again!'"
To my surprise, Bruno ran forwards to him, as if he were some old

friend of theirs, seized the disengaged hand and hung on to it with
both of his own: and there stood this tall dignified officer in the

middle of the road, gravely swinging a little boy to and fro, while
Sylvie stood ready to push him, exactly as if a real swing had suddenly

been provided for their pastime.
"We don't want to get to Babylon, oo know!" Bruno explained as he swung.

"And it isn't candlelight: it's daylight!" Sylvie added, giving the
swing a push of extra vigour, which nearly took the whole machine off

its balance.
By this time it was clear to me that Eric Lindon was quite unconscious

of my presence. Even the Professor and the children seemed to have
lost sight of me: and I stood in the midst of the group, as

unconcernedly as a ghost, seeing but unseen.
"How perfectly isochronous!" the Professor exclaimed with enthusiasm.

He had his watch in his hand, and was carefully counting Bruno's
oscillations. "He measures time quite as accurately as a pendulum!"

[Image...'How perfectly isochronous!']
"Yet even pendulums," the good-natured young soldier observed,

as he carefully released his hand from Bruno's grasp, "are not a joy
for ever! Come, that's enough for one bout, little man!' Next time we

meet, you shall have another. Meanwhile you'd better take this old
gentleman to Queer Street, Number--"

"We'll find it!" cried Bruno eagerly, as they dragged the Professor away.
"We are much indebted to you!" the Professor said, looking over his

shoulder.
"Don't mention it!" replied the officer, raising his hat as a parting

salute.
"What number did you say!" the Professor called from the distance.

The officer made a trumpet of his two hands. "Forty!" he shouted in
stentorian tones. "And not piano, by any means!" he added to himself.