“The prisoner shall give his word of honour, never to return to Erewhon, nor to encourage any of his countrymen to do so.  After the dinner to which we hope the Mayoress Will invite us, the Ranger, if the night is fair, shall escort the prisoner as far as the statues, whence he will find his own way home.

“Those who are in favour of this compromise hold up their hands.”

The Mayor and Yram held up theirs.  “Will you hold up yours, Professor Hanky,” said George, “if I release you?”

“Yes,” said Hanky with a gruff laugh, whereon George released him and he held up both his hands.

Panky did not hold up his, whereon Hanky said, “Hold up your hands, Panky, can’t you?  We are really very well out of it.”

Panky, hardly lifting his head, sobbed out, “I think we ought to have our f-f-fo-fo-four pounds ten returned to us.”

“I am afraid, sir,” said George, “that the prisoner must have spent the greater part of this money.”

Every one smiled, indeed it was all George could do to prevent himself from laughing outright.  The Mayor brought out his purse, counted the money, and handed it good-humouredly to Panky, who gratefully received it, and said he would divide it with Hanky.  He then held up his hands, “But,” he added, turning to his brother Professor, “so long as I live, Hanky, I will never go out anywhere again with you.”

George then turned to Hanky and said, “I am afraid I must now trouble you and Professor Panky to depose on oath to the facts which Mrs. Humdrum and Dr. Downie propose you should swear to in open court to-morrow.  I knew you would do so, and have brought an ordinary form, duly filled up, which declares that the prisoner is not the poacher you met on Thursday; and also, that he has been long known to both of you as a harmless monomaniac.”

As he spoke he brought out depositions to the above effect which he had just written in his office; he shewed the Professors that the form was this time an innocent one, whereon they made no demur to signing and swearing in the presence of the Mayor, who attested.

“The former depositions,” said Hanky, “had better be destroyed at once.”

“That,” said George, “may hardly be, but so long as you stick to what you have just sworn to, they will not be used against you.”

Hanky scowled, but knew that he was powerless and said no more.

* * * * *

The knowledge of what ensued did not reach me from my father.  George and his mother, seeing how ill he looked, and what a shock the events of the last few days had given him, resolved that he should not know of the risk that George was about to run; they therefore said nothing to him about it.  What I shall now tell, I learned on the occasion already referred to when I had the happiness to meet George.  I am in some doubt whether it is more fitly told here, or when I come to the interview between him and me; on the whole, however, I suppose chronological order is least outraged by dealing with it here.