“Davidson!” cried I. “What’s the matter with you?” He turned round in my direction and looked about for me. He looked over me and at me and on either side of me, without the slightest sign of seeing me. “Waves,” he said; “and a remarkably neat schooner. I’d swear that was Bellows’s voice. _Hullo!_” He shouted suddenly at the top of his voice. I thought he was up to some foolery. Then I saw littered about his feet the shattered remains of the best of our electrometers. “What’s up, man?” said I. “You’ve smashed the electrometer!” “Bellows again!” said he. “Friends left, if my hands are gone. Something about electrometers. Which way _are_ you, Bellows?” He suddenly came staggering towards me. “The damned stuff cuts like butter,” he said. He walked straight into the bench and recoiled. “None so buttery, that!” he said, and stood swaying. I felt scared. “Davidson,” said I, “what on earth’s come over you?” He looked round him in every direction. “I could swear that was Bellows. Why don’t you show yourself like a man, Bellows?” It occurred to me that he must be suddenly struck blind. I walked round the table and laid my hand upon his arm. I never saw a man more startled in my life. He jumped away from me, and came round into an attitude of self-defence, his face fairly distorted with terror. “Good God!” he cried. “What was that?” “It’s I—Bellows. Confound it, Davidson!” He jumped when I answered him and stared—how can I express it?—right through me. He began talking, not to me, but to himself. “Here in broad daylight on a clear beach. Not a place to hide in.” He looked about him wildly. “Here! I’m _off_.” He suddenly turned and ran headlong into the big electro-magnet—so violently that, as we found afterwards, he bruised his shoulder and jawbone cruelly. At that he stepped back a pace, and cried out with almost a whimper, “What, in Heaven’s name, has come over me?” He stood, blanched with terror and trembling violently, with his right arm clutching his left, where that had collided with the magnet. By that time I was excited, and fairly excited. “Davidson,” said I, “don’t be afraid.” He was startled at my voice, but not so excessively as before. I repeated my words in as clear and firm a tone as I could assume. “Bellows,” he said, “is that you?” “Can’t you see it’s me?” He laughed. “I can’t even see it’s myself. Where the devil are we?” “Here,” said I, “in the laboratory.” “The laboratory!” he answered, in a puzzled tone, and put his hand to his forehead. “I _was_ in the laboratory—till that flash came, but I’m hanged if I’m there now. What ship is that?” “There’s no ship,” said I. “Do be sensible, old chap.” “No ship!” he repeated, and seemed to forget my denial forthwith. “I suppose,” said he, slowly, “we’re both dead. But the rummy part is I feel just as though I still had a body. Don’t get used to it all at once, I suppose. The old shop was struck by lightning, I suppose. Jolly quick thing, Bellows—eigh?”