“Did you levitate up here,” asked Bickley, “like the late lamented Mr. Home at the spiritualistic seances?”

“No, I did not exactly levitate, but something or someone seemed to get a hold of me, and I was just rushed along in a most tumultuous fashion.  The next thing I knew was that I was standing at the door of that sepulchre, though I have no recollection of going up in the lift, or whatever it is.  I believe those beastly caves are full of ghosts, or devils, and the worst of it is that they have kept my solar-tope, which I put on this morning forgetting that it would be useless there.”

“The Lady Yva’s Fourth Dimension in action,” I suggested, “only it wouldn’t work on solar-topes.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Bastin, “but if my hat had to be left, why not my boots and other garments?  Please stop your nonsense and pass the tea.  Thank goodness I haven’t got to go down there tomorrow, as he seems to have had enough of me for the present, so I vote we all pay a visit to the ship.  It will be a very pleasant change.  I couldn’t stand two days running with that old fiend, and his ghosts or devils in the cave.”

Next morning accordingly, fearing no harm from the Orofenans, we took the canoe and rowed to the main island.  Marama had evidently seen us coming, for he and a number of his people met us with every demonstration of delight, and escorted us to the ship.  Here we found things just as we had left them, for there had been no attempt at theft or other mischief.

While we were in the cabin a fit of moral weakness seemed to overcome Bickley, the first and I may add the last from which I ever saw him suffer.

“Do you know,” he said, addressing us, “I think that we should do well to try to get out of this place.  Eliminating a great deal of the marvelous with which we seem to have come in touch here, it is still obvious that we find ourselves in very peculiar and unhealthy surroundings.  I mean mentally unhealthy, indeed I think that if we stay here much longer we shall probably go off our heads.  Now that boat on the deck remains sound and seaworthy.  Why should not we provision her and take our chance?  We know more or less which way to steer.”

Bastin and I looked at each other.  It was he who spoke first.

“Wouldn’t it be rather a risky job in an open boat?” he asked.  “However, that doesn’t matter much because I don’t take any account of risks, knowing that I am of more value than a sparrow and that the hairs of my head are all numbered.”

“They might be numbered under water as well as above it,” muttered Bickley, “and I feel sure that on your own showing, you would be as valuable dead as alive.”

“What I seem to feel,” went on Bastin, “is that I have work to my hand here.  Also, the locum tenens at Fulcombe no doubt runs the parish as well as I could.  Indeed I consider him a better man for the place than I am.  That old Oro is a tough proposition, but I do not despair of him yet, and besides him there is the Glittering Lady, a most open-minded person, whom I have not yet had any real opportunity of approaching in a spiritual sense.  Then there are all these natives who cannot learn without a teacher.  So on the whole I think I would rather stay where I am until Providence points out some other path.”