"If you open the lid," explained the Clockwork man (and at the sound of that human voice the doctor jumped violently), "you will see certain stops, marked with numbers." Obedient, in spite of himself, the Doctor discovered a minute hinge and swung open the glass lid. The palpitating clock, with its stir of noises slightly accentuated, lay exposed to his touch. "Stop XI," continued the Clockwork man, in tones of sharp instruction. "Press hard. Then wind Y 4 three times." Slowly, with a wildly beating heart, the Doctor inserted a trembling finger among the interstices of those multitudinous stops and hands, and as slowly withdrew it again. He could not do this thing. For one thing, his finger was too large. It was a ridiculously clumsy instrument for so fine a purpose. What if he failed? Pressed a knob too hard or set a hand spinning in the wrong direction? The least blunder-- "I can't do it," he gasped, "I can't really. You must--excuse me." "Be quick," said the Clockwork man, in a squeaky undertone, "something is going to happen." So it came about that the Doctor's final action was hurried and ill-considered. It seemed to him that he must have committed some kind of assault upon the mechanism. Actually, he succeeded in pressing the knob marked XI, and the immediate result was a sort of muffled ringing sound arising from somewhere in the depths of the Clockwork man's organism. "Registered," exclaimed the latter, triumphantly. "Now, the hand." The Doctor found the hand and tried to twist it very slowly and carefully. He had expected the thin piece of metal to resist his touch; but it swung round with a fatal facility--five and a half times! The Clockwork man suddenly turned round. Immediately afterwards the Doctor became aware of a series of loud popping noises, accompanied by the sound of tearing and rending. Simultaneously, some hard object hit him just over the eye, and the walls and ceiling of the little room were struck sharply by something violently expelled. And then he felt himself being pushed gently away by some pressure that was steadily insisting upon more space. It was an effect in startling disproportion to the cause. Or, at least, so it seemed to the Doctor, who was, of course, totally ignorant about the mechanism with which he was experimenting. "Reverse!" exclaimed the Clockwork man, in thick, suety tones, "reverse." Already he was several times stouter than his original self. He had burst all his buttons--which accounted for the sudden explosions--and his clothes were split all the way down, back and front. Great pouches and three new chins appeared upon his face, and lower down there was visible an enormous stomach. The Doctor seized hold of the other's collar and turned the huge body round. His hand fumbled wildly among the stops. "Which one?" he gasped, his face livid with fright. "Tell me what to do. In heaven's name, do you expect me to _know_?"