fell; and when he maintained stoutly the world had neither end nor roof such as they supposed, they said his thoughts were wicked.  So far as he could describe sky and clouds and stars to them it seemed to them a hideous void, a terrible blankness in the place of the smooth roof to things in which they believed—­it was an article of faith with them that the cavern roof was exquisitely smooth to the touch.  He saw that in some manner he shocked them, and gave up that aspect of the matter altogether, and tried to show them the practical value of sight.  One morning he saw Pedro in the path called Seventeen and coming towards the central houses, but still too far off for hearing or scent, and he told them as much.  “In a little while,” he prophesied, “Pedro will be here.”  An old man remarked that Pedro had no business on path Seventeen, and then, as if in confirmation, that individual as he drew near turned and went transversely into path Ten, and so back with nimble paces towards the outer wall.  They mocked Nunez when Pedro did not arrive, and afterwards, when he asked Pedro questions to clear his character, Pedro denied and outfaced him, and was afterwards hostile to him.

Then he induced them to let him go a long way up the sloping meadows towards the wall with one complaisant individual, and to him he promised to describe all that happened among the houses.  He noted certain goings and comings, but the things that really seemed to signify to these people happened inside of or behind the windowless houses—­the only things they took note of to test him by—­and of those he could see or tell nothing; and it was after the failure of this attempt, and the ridicule they could not repress, that he resorted to force.  He thought of seizing a spade and suddenly smiting one or two of them to earth, and so in fair combat showing the advantage of eyes.  He went so far with that resolution as to seize his spade, and then he discovered a new thing about himself, and that was that it was impossible for him to hit a blind man in cold blood.

He hesitated, and found them all aware that he had snatched up the spade.  They stood all alert, with their heads on one side, and bent ears towards him for what he would do next.

“Put that spade down,” said one, and he felt a sort of helpless horror.  He came near obedience.

Then he had thrust one backwards against a house wall, and fled past him and out of the village.

He went athwart one of their meadows, leaving a track of trampled grass behind his feet, and presently sat down by the side of one of their ways.  He felt something of the buoyancy that comes to all men in the beginning of a fight, but more perplexity.  He began to realise that you cannot even fight happily with creatures who stand upon a different mental basis to yourself.  Far away he saw a number of men carrying spades and sticks come out of the street of houses and advance in a spreading line along the several paths towards him.  They advanced slowly, speaking frequently to one another, and ever and again the whole cordon would halt and sniff the air and listen.