story came
down from Bridgeford that it was an evil spirit who had assumed the
Sunchild's form, intending to make people sceptical about Sunchildism;
Hanky and Panky cowed this spirit, otherwise it would never have
recanted. Many people swallow this."

"But Hanky and Panky swore that they knew the man."

"That does not matter."

"And now please, how long have you been married?"

"About ten months."

"Any family?"

"One boy about a fortnight old. Do come down to Sunch'ston and see
him--he is your own nephew. You speak Erewhonian so perfectly that no
human being would suspect you were a foreigner, and you look one of us
from head to foot. I can smuggle you through quite easily, and my mother
would so like to see you."

I should dearly have liked to have gone, but it was out of the question.
I had nothing with me but the clothes I stood in; moreover I was longing
to be back in England, and when once I was in Erewhon there was no
knowing when I should be able to get away again; but George fought hard
before he gave in.

It was now nearing the time when this strange meeting between two
brothers--as strange a one as the statues can ever have looked down
upon--must come to an end. I shewed George what the repeater would do,
and what it would expect of its possessor. I gave him six good
photographs, of my father and myself--three of each. He had never seen a
photograph, and could hardly believe his eyes as he looked at those I
shewed him. I also gave him three envelopes addressed to myself, care of
Alfred Emery Cathie, Esq., 15 Clifford's Inn, London, and implored him to
write to me if he could ever find means of getting a letter over the
range as far as the shepherd's hut. At this he shook his head, but he
promised to write if he could. I also told him that I had written a full
account of my father's second visit to Erewhon, but that it should never
be published till I heard from him--at which he again shook his head, but
added, "And yet who can tell? For the King may have the country opened
up to foreigners some day after all."

Then he thanked me a thousand times over, shouldered the knapsack,
embraced me as he had my father, and caressed the dog, embraced me again,
and made no attempt to hide the tears that ran down his cheeks.

"There," he said; "I shall wait here till you are out of sight."

I turned away, and did not look back till I reached the place at which I
knew that I should lose the statue