ned　me　because　it　was　so　beautiful；　because　it　was　so　good。〃
  〃Syme；〃　exclaimed　the　Secretary；　〃are　you　ill？〃
  〃It　was　like　the　face　of　some　ancient　archangel；　judging　justly　after　heroic　wars。　There　was　laughter　in　the　eyes；　and　in　the　mouth　honour　and　sorrow。　There　was　the　same　white　hair；　the　same　great；　grey…clad　shoulders　that　I　had　seen　from　behind。　But　when　I　saw　him　from　behind　I　was　certain　he　was　an　animal；　and　when　I　saw　him　in　front　I　knew　he　was　a　god。〃
  〃Pan；〃　said　the　Professor　dreamily；　〃was　a　god　and　an　animal。〃
  〃Then；　and　again　and　always；〃　went　on　Syme　like　a　man　talking　to　himself；　〃that　has　been　for　me　the　mystery　of　Sunday；　and　it　is　also　the　mystery　of　the　world。　When　I　see　the　horrible　back；　I　am　sure　the　noble　face　is　but　a　mask。　When　I　see　the　face　but　for　an　instant；　I　know　the　back　is　only　a　jest。　Bad　is　so　bad；　that　we　cannot　but　think　good　an　accident；　good　is　so　good；　that　we　feel　certain　that　evil　could　be　explained。　But　the　whole　came　to　a　kind　of　crest　yesterday　when　I　raced　Sunday　for　the　cab；　and　was　just　behind　him　all　the　way。〃
  〃Had　you　time　for　thinking　then？〃　asked　Ratcliffe。
  〃Time；〃　replied　Syme；　〃for　one　outrageous　thought。　I　was　suddenly　possessed　with　the　idea　that　the　blind；　blank　back　of　his　head　really　was　his　facean　awful；　eyeless　face　staring　at　me！　And　I　fancied　that　the　figure　running　in　front　of　me　was　really　a　figure　running　backwards；　and　dancing　as　he　ran。〃
  〃Horrible！〃　said　Dr。　Bull；　and　shuddered。
  〃Horrible　is　not　the　word；〃　said　Syme。　〃It　was　exactly　the　worst　instant　of　my　life。　And　yet　ten　minutes　afterwards；　when　he　put　his　head　out　of　the　cab　and　made　a　grimace　like　a　gargoyle；　I　knew　that　he　was　only　like　a　father　playing　hide…and…seek　with　his　children。〃
  〃It　is　a　long　game；〃　said　the　Secretary；　and　frowned　at　his　broken　boots。
  〃Listen　to　me；〃　cried　Syme　with　extraordinary　emphasis。　〃Shall　I　tell　you　the　secret　of　the　whole　world？　It　is　that　we　have　only　known　the　back　of　the　world。　We　see　everything　from　behind；　and　it　looks　brutal。　That　is　not　a　tree；　but　the　back　of　a　tree。　That　is　not　a　cloud；　but　the　back　of　a　cloud。　Cannot　you　see　that　everything　is　stooping　and　hiding　a　face？　If　we　could　only　get　round　in　front〃
  〃Look！〃　cried　out　Bull　clamorously；　〃the　balloon　is　coming　down！〃
  There　was　no　need　to　cry　out　to　Syme；　who　had　never　taken　his　eyes　off　it。　He　saw　the　great　luminous　globe　suddenly　stagger　in　the　sky；　right　itself；　and　then　sink　slowly　behind　the　trees　like　a　setting　sun。
  The　man　called　Gogol；　who　had　hardly　spoken　through　all　their　weary　travels；　suddenly　threw　up　his　hands　like　a　lost　spirit。
  〃He　is　dead！〃　he　cried。　〃And　now　I　know　he　was　my　friendmy　friend　in　the　dark！〃
  〃Dead！〃　snorted　the　Secretary。　〃You　will　not　find　him　dead　easily。　If　he　has　been　tipped　out　of　the　car；　we　shall　find　him　rolling　as　a　colt　rolls　in　a　field；　kicking　his　legs　for　fun。〃
  〃Clashing　his　hoofs；〃　said　the　Professor。　〃The　colts　do；　and　so　did　Pan。〃
  〃Pan　again！〃　said　Dr。　Bull　irritably。　〃You　seem　to　think　Pan　is　everything。〃
  〃So　he　is；〃　said　the　Professor；　〃in　Greek。　He　means　everything。〃
  〃Don't　forget；〃　said　the　Secretary；　looking　down；　〃that　he　also　means　Panic。〃
  Syme　had　stood　without　hearing　any　of　the　exclamations。
  〃It　fell　over　there；〃　he　said　shortly。　〃Let　us　follow　it！〃
  Then　he　added　with　an　indescribable　gesture
  〃Oh；　if　he　has　cheated　us　all　by　getting　killed！　It　would　be　like　one　of　his　larks。〃
  He　strode　off　towards　the　distant　trees　with　a　new　energy；　his　rags　and　ribbons　fluttering　in　the　wind。　The　others　followed　him　in　a　more　footsore　and　dubious　manner。　And　almost　at　the　same　moment　all　six　men　realised　that　they　were　not　alone　in　the　little　field。
  Across　the　square　of　turf　a　tall　man　was　advancing　towards　them；　leaning　on　a　strange　long　staff　like　a　sceptre。　He　was　clad　in　a　fine　but　old…fashioned　suit　with　knee…breeches；　its　colour　was　that　shade　between　blue；　violet　and　grey　which　can　be　seen　in　certain　shadows　of　the　woodland。　His　hair　was　whitish　grey；　and　at　the　first　glance；　taken　along　with　his　knee…breeches；　looked　as　if　it　was　powdered。　His　advance　was　very　quiet；　but　for　the　silver　frost　upon　his　head；　he　might　have　been　one　to　the　shadows　of　the　wood。
  〃Gentlemen；〃　he　said；　〃my　master　has　a　carriage　waiting　for　you　in　the　road　just　by。〃
  〃Who　is　your　master？〃　asked　Syme；　standing　quite　still。
  〃I　was　told　you　knew　his　name；〃　said　the　man　respectfully。
  There　was　a　silence；　and　then　the　Secretary　said
  〃Where　is　this　carriage？〃
  〃It　has　been　waiting　only　a　few　moments；〃　said　the　stranger。　〃My　master　has　only　just　come　home。〃
  Syme　looked　left　and　right　upon　the　patch　of　green　field　in　which　he　found　himself。　The　hedges　were　ordinary　hedges；　the　trees　seemed　ordinary　trees；　yet　he　felt　like　a　man　entrapped　in　fairyland。
  He　looked　the　mysterious　ambassador　up　and　down；　but　he　could　discover　nothing　except　that　the　man's　coat　was　the　exact　colour　of　the　purple　shadows；　and　that　the　man's　face　was　the　exact　colour　of　the　red　and　brown　and　golden　sky。
  〃Show　us　the　place；〃　Syme　said　briefly；　and　without　a　word　the　man　in　the　violet　coat　turned　his　back　and　walked　towards　a　gap　in　the　hedge；　which　let　in　suddenly　the　light　of　a　white　road。
  As　the　six　wanderers　broke　out　upon　this　thoroughfare；　they　saw　the　white　road　blocked　by　what　looked　like　a　long　row　of　carriages；　such　a　row　of　carriages　as　might　close　the　approach　to　some　house　in　Park　Lane。　Along　the　side　of　these　carriages　stood　a　rank　of　splendid　servants；　all　dressed　in　the　grey…blue　uniform；　and　all　having　a　certain　quality　of　stateliness　and　freedom　which　would　not　commonly　belong　to　the　servants　of　a　gentleman；　but　rather　to　the　officials　and　ambassadors　of　a　great　king。　There　were　no　less　than　six　carriages　waiting；　one　for　each　of　the　tattered　and　miserable　band。　All　the　attendants　（as　if　in　court…dress）　wore　swords；　and　as　each　man　crawled　into　his　carriage　they　drew　them；　and　saluted　with　a　sudden　blaze　of　steel。
  〃What　can　it　all　mean？〃　asked　Bull　of　Syme　as　they　separated。　〃Is　this　another　joke　of　Sunday's？〃
  〃I　don't　know；〃　said　Syme　as　he　sank　wearily　back　in　the　cushions　of　his　carriage；　〃but　if　it　is；　it's　one　of　the　jokes　you　talk　about。　It's　a　good…natured　one。〃
  The　six　adventurers　had　passed　through　many　adventures；　but　not　one　had　carried　them　so　utterly　off　their　feet　as　this　last　adventure　of　comfort。　They　had　all　become　inured　to　things　going　roughly；　but　things　suddenly　going　smoothly　swamped　them。　They　could　not　even　feebly　imagine　what　the　carriages　were；　it　was　enough　for　them　to　know　that　they　were　carriages；　and　carriages　with　cushions。　They　could　not　conceive　who　the　old　man　was　who　had　led　them；　but　it　was　quite　enough　that　he　had　certainly　led　them　to　the　carriages。
  Syme　drove　through　a　drifting　darkness　of　trees　in　utter　abandonment。　It　was　typical　of　him　that　while　he　had　carried　his　bearded　chin　forward　fiercely　so　long　as　anything　could　be　done；　when　the　whole　business　was　taken　out　of　his　hands　he　fell　back　on　the　cushions　in　a　frank　collapse。
  Very　gradually　and　very　vaguely　he　realised　into　what　rich　roads　the　carriage　was　carrying　him。　He　saw　that　they　passed　the　stone　gates　of　what　might　have　been　a　park；　that　they　began　gradually　to　climb　a　hill　which；　while　wooded　on　both　sides；　was　somewhat　more　orderly　than　a　forest。　Then　there　began　to　grow　upon　him；　as　upon　a　man　slowly　waking　from　a　healthy　sleep；　a　pleasure　in　everything。　He　felt　that　the　hedges　were　what　hedges　should　be；　living　walls；　that　a　hedge　is　like　a　human　army；　disciplined；　but　all　the　more　alive。　He　saw　high　elms　behind　the　hedges；　and　vaguely　thought　how　happy　boys　would　be　climbing　there。　Then　his　carriage　took　a　turn　of　the　path；　and　he　saw　suddenly　and　quietly；　like　a　long；　low；　sunset　cloud；　a　long；　low　house；　mellow　in　the　mild　light　of　sunset。　All　the　six　friends　compared　notes　afterwards　and　quarrelled；　but　they　all　agreed　that　in　some　unaccountable　way　the　place　reminded　them　of　their　boyhood。　It　was　either　this　elm…top　or　that　crooked　path；　it　was　either　this　scrap　of　orchard　or　that　shape　of　a　window；　but　each　man　of　them　declared　that　he　could　remember　this　place　before　he　could　remember　his　mother。
  When　the　carriages　eventually　rolled　up　to　a　large；　low；　cavernous　gateway；　another　man　in　the　same　uniform；　but　wearing　a　silver　star　on　the　grey　breast　of　his　coat；　came　out　to　meet　them。　This　impressive　person　said　to　the　bewildered　Syme
  〃Refreshments　are　provided　for　you　in　your　room。〃
  Syme；　under　the　influence　of　the　same　mesmeric　sleep　of　amazement；　went　up　the　large　oaken　stairs　after　the　respectful　attendant。　He　entered　a　splendid　suite　of　apartments　that　seemed　to　be　designed　specially　for　him。　He　walked　up　to　a　long　mirror　with　the　ordinary　instinct　of　his　class；　to　pull　his　tie　straight　or　to　smooth　his　hair；　and　there　he　saw　the　frightful　figure　that　he　wasblood　running　down　his　face　from　where　the　bough　had　struck　him；　his　hair　standing　out　like　yellow　rags　of　rank　grass；　his　clothes　torn　into　long；　wavering　tatters。　At　once　the　whole　enigma　sprang　up；　simply　as　the　question　of　how　he　had　got　there；　and　how　he　was　to　get　out　again。　Exactly　at　the　same　moment　a　man　i