space；　in　so　far　as　they　were　the　stuff　of　my　consciousness；
  underwent　an　enormous　extension。　　Thus；　without　opening　my　eyes　to
  verify；　I　knew　that　the　walls　of　my　narrow　cell　had　receded　until　it
  was　like　a　vast　audience…chamber。　　And　while　I　contemplated　the
  matter；　I　knew　that　they　continued　to　recede。　　The　whim　struck　me
  for　a　moment　that　if　a　similar　expansion　were　taking　place　with　the
  whole　prison；　then　the　outer　walls　of　San　Quentin　must　be　far　out　in
  the　Pacific　Ocean　on　one　side　and　on　the　other　side　must　be
  encroaching　on　the　Nevada　desert。　　A　companion　whim　was　that　since
  matter　could　permeate　matter；　then　the　walls　of　my　cell　might　well
  permeate　the　prison　walls；　pass　through　the　prison　walls；　and　thus
  put　my　cell　outside　the　prison　and　put　me　at　liberty。　　Of　course；
  this　was　pure　fantastic　whim；　and　I　knew　it　at　the　time　for　what　it
  was。
  The　extension　of　time　was　equally　remarkable。　　Only　at　long
  intervals　did　my　heart　beat。　　Again　a　whim　came　to　me；　and　I　counted
  the　seconds；　slow　and　sure；　between　my　heart…beats。　　At　first；　as　I
  clearly　noted；　over　a　hundred　seconds　intervened　between　beats。　　But
  as　I　continued　to　count　the　intervals　extended　so　that　I　was　made
  weary　of　counting。
  And　while　this　illusion　of　the　extension　of　time　and　space　persisted
  and　grew；　I　found　myself　dreamily　considering　a　new　and　profound
  problem。　　Morrell　had　told　me　that　he　had　won　freedom　from　his　body
  by　killing　his　bodyor　by　eliminating　his　body　from　his
  consciousness；　which；　of　course；　was　in　effect　the　same　thing。　　Now；
  my　body　was　so　near　to　being　entirely　dead　that　I　knew　in　all
  absoluteness　that　by　a　quick　concentration　of　will　on　the　yet…alive
  patch　of　my　torso　it；　too；　would　cease　to　be。　　Butand　here　was　the
  problem；　and　Morrell　had　not　warned　me：　　should　I　also　will　my　head
  to　be　dead？　　If　I　did　so；　no　matter　what　befell　the　spirit　of
  Darrell　Standing；　would　not　the　body　of　Darrell　Standing　be　for　ever
  dead？
  I　chanced　the　chest　and　the　slow…beating　heart。　　The　quick
  compulsion　of　my　will　was　rewarded。　　I　no　longer　had　chest　nor
  heart。　　I　was　only　a　mind；　a　soul；　a　consciousnesscall　it　what　you
  willincorporate　in　a　nebulous　brain　that；　while　it　still　centred
  inside　my　skull；　was　expanded；　and　was　continuing　to　expand；　beyond
  my　skull。
  And　then；　with　flashings　of　light；　I　was　off　and　away。　　At　a　bound　I
  had　vaulted　prison　roof　　and　California　sky；　and　was　among　the
  stars。　　I　say　〃stars〃　advisedly。　　I　walked　among　the　stars。　　I　was　a
  child。　　I　was　clad　in　frail；　fleece…like；　delicate…coloured　robes
  that　shimmered　in　the　cool　starlight。　　These　robes；　of　course；　were
  based　upon　my　boyhood　observance　of　circus　actors　and　my　boyhood
  conception　of　the　garb　of　young　angels。
  Nevertheless；　thus　clad；　I　trod　interstellar　space；　exalted　by　the
  knowledge　that　I　was　bound　on　vast　adventure；　where；　at　the　end；　I
  would　find　all　the　cosmic　formulae　and　have　made　clear　to　me　the
  ultimate　secret　of　the　universe。　　In　my　hand　I　carried　a　long　glass
  wand。　　It　was　borne　in　upon　me　that　with　the　tip　of　this　wand　I　must
  touch　each　star　in　passing。　　And　I　knew；　in　all　absoluteness；　that
  did　I　but　miss　one　star　I　should　be　precipitated　into　some
  unplummeted　abyss　of　unthinkable　and　eternal　punishment　and　guilt。
  Long　I　pursued　my　starry　quest。　　When　I　say　〃long；〃　you　must　bear　in
  mind　the　enormous　extension　of　time　that　had　occurred　in　my　brain。
  For　centuries　I　trod　space；　with　the　tip　of　my　wand　and　with
  unerring　eye　and　hand　tapping　each　star　I　passed。　　Ever　the　way　grew
  brighter。　　Ever　the　ineffable　goal　of　infinite　wisdom　grew　nearer。
  And　yet　I　made　no　mistake。　　This　was　no　other　self　of　mine。　　This
  was　no　experience　that　had　once　been　mine。　　I　was　aware　all　the　time
  that　it　was　I；　Darrell　Standing；　who　walked　among　the　stars　and
  tapped　them　with　a　wand　of　glass。　　In　short；　I　knew　that　here　was
  nothing　real；　nothing　that　had　ever　been　nor　could　ever　be。　　I　knew
  that　it　was　nothing　else　than　a　ridiculous　orgy　of　the　imagination；
  such　as　men　enjoy　in　drug　dreams；　in　delirium；　or　in　mere　ordinary
  slumber。
  And　then；　as　all　went　merry　and　well　with　me　on　my　celestial　quest；
  the　tip　of　my　wand　missed　a　star；　and　on　the　instant　I　knew　I　had
  been　guilty　of　a　great　crime。　　And　on　the　instant　a　knock；　vast　and
  compulsive；　inexorable　and　mandatory　as　the　stamp　of　the　iron　hoof
  of　doom；　smote　me　and　reverberated　across　the　universe。　　The　whole
  sidereal　system　coruscated；　reeled　and　fell　in　flame。
  I　was　torn　by　an　exquisite　and　disruptive　agony。　　And　on　the　instant
  I　was　Darrell　Standing；　the　life…convict；　lying　in　his　strait…jacket
  in　solitary。　　And　I　knew　the　immediate　cause　of　that　summons。　　It
  was　a　rap　of　the　knuckle　by　Ed　Morrell；　in　Cell　Five；　beginning　the
  spelling　of　some　message。
  And　now；　to　give　some　comprehension　of　the　extension　of　time　and
  space　that　I　was　experiencing。　　Many　days　afterwards　I　asked　Morrell
  what　he　had　tried　to　convey　to　me。　　It　was　a　simple　message；　namely：
  〃Standing；　are　you　there？〃　　He　had　tapped　it　rapidly；　while　the
  guard　was　at　the　far　end　of　the　corridor　into　which　the　solitary
  cells　opened。　　As　I　say；　he　had　tapped　the　message　very　rapidly。
  And　now　behold！　　Between　the　first　tap　and　the　second　I　was　off　and
  away　among　the　stars；　clad　in　fleecy　garments；　touching　each　star　as
  I　passed　in　my　pursuit　of　the　formulae　that　would　explain　the　last
  mystery　of　life。　　And；　as　before；　I　pursued　the　quest　for　centuries。
  Then　came　the　summons；　the　stamp　of　the　hoof　of　doom；　the　exquisite
  disruptive　agony；　and　again　I　was　back　in　my　cell　in　San　Quentin。
  It　was　the　second　tap　of　Ed　Morrell's　knuckle。　　The　interval　between
  it　and　the　first　tap　could　have　been　no　more　than　a　fifth　of　a
  second。　　And　yet；　so　unthinkably　enormous　was　the　extension　of　time
  to　me；　that　in　the　course　of　that　fifth　of　a　second　I　had　been　away
  star…roving　for　long　ages。
  Now　I　know；　my　reader；　that　the　foregoing　seems　all　a　farrago。　　I
  agree　with　you。　　It　is　farrago。　　It　was　experience；　however。　　It　was
  just　as　real　to　me　as　is　the　snake　beheld　by　a　man　in　delirium
  tremens。
  Possibly；　by　the　most　liberal　estimate；　it　may　have　taken　Ed　Morrell
  two　minutes　to　tap　his　question。　　Yet；　to　me；　aeons　elapsed　between
  the　first　tap　of　his　knuckle　and　the　last。　　No　longer　could　I　tread
  my　starry　path　with　that　ineffable　pristine　joy；　for　my　way　was
  beset　with　dread　of　the　inevitable　summons　that　would　rip　and　tear
  me　as　it　jerked　me　back　to　my　straitjacket　hell。　　Thus　my　aeons　of
  star…wandering　were　aeons　of　dread。
  And　all　the　time　I　knew　it　was　Ed　Morrell's　knuckle　that　thus
  cruelly　held　me　earth…bound。　　I　tried　to　speak　to　him；　to　ask　him　to
  cease。　　But　so　thoroughly　had　I　eliminated　my　body　from　my
  consciousness　that　I　was　unable　to　resurrect　it。　　My　body　lay　dead
  in　the　jacket；　though　I　still　inhabited　the　skull。　　In　vain　I　strove
  to　will　my　foot　to　tap　my　message　to　Morrell。　　I　reasoned　I　had　a
  foot。　　And　yet；　so　thoroughly　had　I　carried　out　the　experiment；　I
  had　no　foot。
  Nextand　I　know　now　that　it　was　because　Morrell　had　spelled　his
  message　quite　outI　pursued　my　way　among　the　stars　and　was　not
  called　back。　　After　that；　and　in　the　course　of　it；　I　was　aware；
  drowsily；　that　I　was　falling　asleep；　and　that　it　was　delicious
  sleep。　　From　time　to　time；　drowsily；　I　stirredplease；　my　reader；
  don't　miss　that　verbI　STIRRED。　　I　moved　my　legs；　my　arms。　　I　was
  aware　of　clean；　soft　bed　linen　against　my　skin。　　I　was　aware　of
  bodily　well…being。　　Oh；　it　was　delicious！　　As　thirsting　men　on　the
  desert　dream　of　splashing　fountains　and　flowing　wells；　so　dreamed　I
  of　easement　from　the　constriction　of　the　jacket；　of　cleanliness　in
  the　place　of　filth；　of　smooth　velvety　skin　of　health　in　place　of　my
  poor　parchment…crinkled　hide。　　But　I　dreamed　with　a　difference；　as
  you　shall　see。
  I　awoke。　　Oh；　broad　and　wide　awake　I　was；　although　I　did　not　open　my
  eyes。　　And　please　know　that　in　all　that　follows　I　knew　no　surprise
  whatever。　　Everything　was　the　natural　and　the　expected。　　I　was　I；　be
  sure　of　that。　　BUT　I　WAS　NOT　DARRELL　STANDING。　　Darrell　Standing　had
  no　more　to　do　with　the　being　I　was　than　did　Darrell　Standing's
  parchment…crinkled　skin　have　aught　to　do　with　the　cool；　soft　skin
  that　was　mine。　　Nor　was　I　aware　of　any　Darrell　Standingas　I　could
  not　well　be；　considering　that　Darrell　Standing　was　as　yet　unborn　and
  would　not　be　born　for　centuries。　　But　you　shall　see。
  I　lay　with　closed　eyes；　lazily　listening。　　From　without　came　the
  clacking　of　many　hoofs　moving　orderly　on　stone　flags。　　From　the
  accompanying　jingle　of　metal　bits　of　man…harness　and　steed…harness　I
  knew　some　cavalcade　was　passing　by　on　the　street　beneath　my　windows。
  Also；　I　wondered　idly　who　it　was。　　From　somewhereand　I　knew　where；
  for　I　knew　it　was　from　the　inn　yardcame　the　ring　and　stamp　of
  hoofs　and　an　impatient　neigh　that　I　recognized　as　belonging　to　my
  waiting　horse。