"Time, as you conceive it, has no meaning for me, of course--yet I have had to spend vast amounts of it, searching, searching the entire course of human history, to select the exact men and women for my purpose, the exact moments in which they could be effective. "The essence of my entire plan was simultaneous alteration of the historic line," Ortine went on. "Only thus could the salvation of humanity be effected without dislocation amounting to chaos. By your insane romantic aberration you two have disrupted the entire process." Justin thought it improbable that Deborah could understand much of what their host was saying, yet the impact of his tone upon her was dynamic. She slipped from her bed, skirts whirling, marched up to Ortine and said, "I care not what ye think, Master Ortine. Neither Charles nor I asked to be brought here. Aye, and furthermore I'll not have ye using that tone to Charles." Ortine said to Justin, "Perhaps we'd better talk this over in private." "So ye can soft-talk Charles into doing ye'r bidding--and leave me to face Master Otis alone?" Deborah's defiance was magnificent and Justin put an arm around her. He said to Ortine, "Since time is of no account to you, perhaps you'll give us a little of it together." "As you wish." Ortine shrugged and turned to leave. "I shall await your summons." "What did he mean?" Deborah asked Justin, when he had gone. Justin studied her briefly, kissed her, then said, "Debby, just how did our friend explain himself to _you_?" "Oh...." The girl looked vague for a moment. "He told me that if I failed to heed Master Otis' plea the redcoats would come to Boston and burn my home and kill my father and mother and brothers--aye, and ruin me." Suddenly Deborah's arms were around him tightly, her worried face peering searchingly into his. She said, "Through my willfulness will all these dreadful things come to pass, Charles darling?" "Debby," he told her gently, "I don't know. But I'm going to find out." "Ye'll not desert me?" she pleaded. He smiled down at her. "Debby, I don't think I could desert you if it meant the end of the world--and it may yet." "Ye'r jesting," she said. "Kiss me." He did--and again they were interrupted by a throat-clearing in the cubicle doorway. Dr. Phillips said in his old-fashioned London accents, "I don't quite ken why our friend has brought us back--but I see things are the same betwixt the two of _you_." "Why, Dr. Phillips!" exclaimed the girl. "Ye'r clad in ye'r breeks now." "I thought it might be a wise precaution before returning to my nap," said the professor mildly. Justin said, "Come in, Doctor." He set Deborah on her cot, swung onto his own, while Dr. Phillips accepted the one chair in the cubicle. He seemed not at all surprised to find two beds where one had stood before.