“Where?” demanded the astonished Possil.

“Venus.”

There was a loud burst of sceptical laughter.

“I think, sir,” said Professor Possil to the Chair, with exasperating coolness, “I think, sir, that after the astounding revelation of the learned professor, we shall be perfectly justified in concluding on sufficient evidence that the professor’s head, and not the planet Venus, has been ‘wobbling’ of late.”

“What I say is true,” cried Gazen, nettled at this rude insinuation.

Cries of “Order, order,” “withdraw,” “apologise,” resounded on every side.

“I cannot apologise for the truth,” retorted Gazen hotly.

“Mr. President,” continued the pugnacious and imperturbable Fossil, “I venture to submit that the preposterous assertions we have just heard are better adapted to a meeting of the Fellows of Colney Hatch than of this Society, and I beg to move that our unfortunate friend be called upon to leave the meeting in charge of some responsible person, who will conduct him safely to his home, and deliver him into the custody of his friends.”

“Come on!  They’re a pack of fools!” cried Gazen to me hoarsely, as, followed by the jeers of his companions, he arose and left the room.

* * * * *

I have only to add that Professor Gazen and Miss Carmichael are about to be married.  For myself, as soon as the ceremony is over I shall return to Venus and Alumion.

THE END.