ing back into nothingness. He lay exulting in his
sensations.

As these sensations became stronger the questioning spirit would not be
denied. "I breathe," he thought. "I feel my breast rise. Therefore I
have a body. I hear a sound like the stirring of a breeze among
leaves, and another sound, a strange, faint hum. And I see, though I
am surrounded by darkness. It is night and out-of-doors."

The feeling of having awakened in a new existence wore off. He
accepted that which surrounded him as the same old world. He found
that he was lying on a soft bed of leaves in a wood. He was wrapped in
a bed covering, a cotton coverlet in fact. He did not recognise it.
He instinctively felt about for his hat and found it near. He stood
erect, and found that his legs were able to perform their office. He
started to walk blindly through the wood. There were no stars.

A certain part of his brain had stopped working. It was that part
which reasoned from memory. He remembered nothing. He did things
without knowing why he did them. He came to a road; he knew it was a
road, and knew what roads were for. He followed it. He was dimly
conscious that he was not in a normal condition, but the fact did not
distress him: on the contrary he experienced a fine lightness of
spirit; it was enough for him that the blood was stirring in his veins,
and the night air was cool and sweet.

Presently he heard a whirring sound familiar to his senses, and saw the
oscillating reflection of a bright light around a bend in the road; an
automobile. He hastily dived into the underbrush at the side. He had
no reason to be afraid, but he felt a shivering repugnance to showing
himself to his fellow-creatures in his present state.

When the car had passed he returned to the road. A few paces further
on the trees at his right hand opened up, and a wonderful panorama was
spread before him; a great, dark, gleaming river far below, and on the
other side myriads upon myriads of fairy-like white lights like
fireflies arrested in mid-flight. From this direction came the faint
hum he had remarked.

Evan knew instinctively that this was the city, and that he must get
there. He saw further that he was bound in the wrong direction. The
way he was heading the lights were thinning out; the thickest clusters
were behind him. His instinct further told him that where the lights
were thick he would find a means of crossing the river. So he retraced