Margaret and Edward lingered timidly near the top of the stairs; but John, putting his head down and burrowing like a mole, was not content till he had reached the open doorway. There he stood looking out into the darkness: where he saw a slowly revolving cow treading the air a yard from the sill, while at each revolution a negro reached out to the utmost limit of balance, trying to catch her by the tail and draw her to shore. John, in his excitement, leaned out too far. He lost his balance and fell clear to the ground, forty feet, right on his head. José gave a cry of alarm, sprang onto the cow’s back, and was instantly lowered away--just as if the cinema had already been invented. He must have looked very comic. But what was going on inside him the while it is difficult to know. Such a responsibility does not often fall on an old sailor; and he would probably feel it all the more for that reason. As for the crowd beneath, they made no attempt to touch the body till José had completed his descent: they stood back and let him have a good look at it, and shake it, and so on. But the neck was quite plainly broken. Margaret and Edward, however, had not any clear idea of what was going on, since they had not actually seen John fall. So they were rather annoyed when two of the schooner’s crew appeared and insisted on their coming back to bed at once. They wanted to know where John was: but even more they wanted to know where José was, and why they weren’t to be allowed to stay. However they obeyed, in the impossibility of asking questions, and started back to bed. Just as they were about to go on board the schooner, they heard a huge report on their left, like a cannon. They turned; and looking past the quiet, silver town, with its palm-groves, to the hills behind, they saw a large ball of fire, travelling at a tremendous rate. It was quite close to the ground: and not very far off either--just beyond the Church. It left a wake of the most brilliant blue, green, and purple blobs of light. For a while it hovered: then it burst, and the air was shortly charged with a strong sulphurous smell. They were all frightened, the sailors even more than the children, and hastened on board. * * * * * In the small hours, Edward suddenly called Emily in his sleep. She woke up: ‘What is it?’ ‘It’s rather cow-catching, isn’t it?’ he asked anxiously, his eyes tight shut. ‘What’s the matter?’ He did not answer, so she roused him--or thought she had. ‘I only wanted to see if you were a _real_ Cow-catching Zomfanelia,’ he explained in a kind voice: and was immediately deep asleep again. In the morning they might easily have thought the whole thing a dream--if John’s bed had not been so puzzlingly empty.