There was another thing.  Oro had declared that we were at war with Germany.  If this were so, how could he know it?  Such knowledge would presume powers of telepathy or vision beyond those given to man.  I could not believe that he possessed these; as Bickley said, it would be past experience.  Yet it was most strange that he who was uninformed as to our national history and dangers, should have hit upon a country with which we might well have been plunged into sudden struggle.  Here again I was bewildered and overcome.  My brain rocked.  I would seek sleep, and in it escape, or at any rate rest from all these mysteries.

On the following morning we despatched Bastin to keep his rendezvous in the sepulchre at the proper time.  Had we not done so I felt sure that he would have forgotten it, for on this occasion he was for once an unwilling missioner.  He tried to persuade one of us to come with him—­even Bickley would have been welcome; but we both declared that we could not dream of interfering in such a professional matter; also that our presence was forbidden, and would certainly distract the attention of his pupil.

“What you mean,” said the gloomy Bastin, “is that you intend to enjoy yourselves up here in the female companionship of the Glittering Lady whilst I sit thousands of feet underground attempting to lighten the darkness of a violent old sinner whom I suspect of being in league with Satan.”

“With whom you should be proud to break a lance,” said Bickley.

“So I am, in the daylight.  For instance, when he uses your mouth to advance his arguments.  Bickley, but this is another matter.  However, if I do not appear again you will know that I died in a good cause, and, I hope, try to recover my remains and give them decent burial.  Also, you might inform the Bishop of how I came to my end, that is, if you ever get an opportunity, which is more than doubtful.”

“Hurry up, Bastin, hurry up!” said the unfeeling Bickley, “or you will be late for your appointment and put your would-be neophyte into a bad temper.”

Then Bastin went, carrying under his arm a large Bible printed in the language of the South Sea Islands.

A little while later Yva appeared, arrayed in her wondrous robes which, being a man, it is quite impossible for me to describe.  She saw us looking at these, and, after greeting us both, also Tommy, who was enraptured at her coming, asked us how the ladies of our country attired themselves.

We tried to explain, with no striking success.

“You are as stupid about such matters as were the men of the Old World,” she said, shaking her head and laughing.  “I thought that you had with you pictures of ladies you have known which would show me.”

Now, in fact, I had in a pocket-book a photograph of my wife in evening-dress, also a miniature of her head and bust painted on ivory, a beautiful piece of work done by a master hand, which I always wore.  These, after a moment’s hesitation, I produced and showed to her, Bickley having gone away for a little while to see about something connected with his attempted analysis of the Life-water.  She examined them with great eagerness, and as she did so I noted that her face grew tender and troubled.