. Another thing. The place was
suddenly quiet, and the houses and shops seemed to have fallen far
back. The pavement was wider.

"There was something else, I noticed. The bobby had left the street
corner, and was walking our way. The curious thing was, though, the
more he walked the farther off he got, as though the road was being
stretched under his feet.

"Mind you, I was still awake and critical. You know there is a
substratum of your mind which is critical, when you are dreaming,
standing looking on outside you, like a spectator.

"Then the stick touched my hand. I shouted. I must have yelled jolly
loud, I think. I couldn't help it. That horrible thing seemed to
wriggle in my fingers.

"It was the shout which brought the crowd. There was the policeman. I
can't make out how he got there. 'Now, what's your little game?' he
said. That brought the buildings up with a rush, and broke the road
into the usual clatter.

"It was all quite simple. There was nothing in it then out of the
ordinary. Just a usual Lascar, very frightened, waving a cheap cane
with a handle like a snake's head. Then another policeman came up in a
hurry, and pushed through the crowd. The crowd was on my side, maudlin
and sympathetic. They knew all about it. The coolie had tried to stab
me. An eager young lady in an apron asked a boy in front--he had just
forced through--what was the matter. He knew all about it.

"'The Indian tried to bite the copper.'

"'Tried to bite him?'

"'Not 'arf he didn't.'

"The Hindoo was now nearly hysterical, and the kiddies were picking up
his language fast. 'Now then, old Jabberjee,' said one nipper in
spectacles. The crowd was laughing, and surging towards the police. I
managed to edge out of it.

"'What's the trouble?' I asked a carman.

"'You see that P. and O. Johnny?' he said. 'Well, he knocked down that
kid'--indicating the boy in spectacles--'and took tuppence from him.'

"I thought a lot about the whole thing on the way home," said Hammond.
"I tell you the yarn for you to explain to the chaps who like to base
their beliefs on the sure ground of what they can understand."

XIII. The Extra Hand

Old George Galsworthy and I sat on the headland above the estuary,
looking into the vacancy which was the Atlantic on an entranced silver
evening. The sky was overcast. There was no wind, and no direct sun.
The light was refined and diffused through a thin veiling of pearl. Sea
and sky were one.