“He is not at all sure about that either. He says that he will think about it. But he protests meanwhile very bitterly against a destiny that has placed him among people who can be sordid and vulgar enough to ask him, the pampered scion of a great house, to degrade himself by attempting to earn his own living. He considers that the Mother ought to be proud of being honoured by his sojourn amongst us, and that she ought to be only too glad to extend her hospitality indefinitely to him.” “And the Mother—what does she think of his peculiarities? Are they found annoying?” “Well, to a certain extent, yes. We abhor ingratitude. But in this case, we are being forced into the belief that this Englishman is not exactly a responsible agent. I am afraid that he is not quite sane. But, of course, unless he becomes very much worse, it will not be found necessary to adopt stringent measures with him.” “And if his peculiarities should become much more pronounced?” “Ah, then—then, we shall be compelled to do something. He has already lost so much time during his prolonged state of unconsciousness, that it will be a charity to release his spirit, if it becomes evident that it is withheld from further progress towards Heavenly bliss by being confined in a body which is more likely to promote retrogression than progression.” As I listened to this calm utterance my blood positively ran cold. Full well I knew what she meant. The peculiar tenets of New Amazonian religion had been carefully explained to me, and I knew that the life of Mr. Fitz-Musicus was destined to be a short one, unless he restored the native belief in his sanity. I was quite unable to talk much more after this, and my friend, observing that I seemed fatigued and had better rest, left me to my own resources. But I felt incapable of resting, for I was too excited. Clearly the life of the eccentric Augustus was in danger, and I was impatient to see him and warn him without delay. I knew where he was located for the present, and I resolved to see him at the earliest opportunity. All night I was restless and perturbed, and though six o’clock was still early for the British masher, I dressed myself with my usual care and set off to visit him, knowing that we should have a better chance of talking undisturbed by taking a morning stroll together, than if I waited until we were both in the midst of society. Besides, I had to begin my book, and I intended working honestly to discharge my debt to New Amazonia. As I had partly expected, Mr. Fitz-Musicus was not yet astir, and when he ultimately presented himself, he was in a state of supreme conjecture as to my reasons for having him roused so unseasonably.