line, the other curved out southwards. He watched the second.

It resembled to his eyes a gigantic dragon-fly--a long gleaming
body, ribbed and lined, blazing and winking in the spring
sunlight, moving in a mist of whirling wings. From the angle at
which he watched its curve, it seemed now to hang suspended,
diminishing to the eye, now shooting suddenly ahead. . . . There
it hung again, already a mile away, as if poised and considering,
then with increasing speed it moved on and on, like a line of
brilliant light; little metallic taps sounded across the water;
it met the horizon, rose above it, darkened, again flashed
suddenly. . . .

He turned to look for the other; but, so far as he could
see, the huge blue arc was empty. He turned again; and the
third too was gone.

A great ringing of bells sounded suddenly beneath him.

"You've got your luggage on board, Monsignor? . . . Well, you'd
better be going on board yourself. She'll start in five minutes."



(III)

The arrival at Boston harbour was one more strange experience,
and the more strange because the man who had lost his memory knew
that he was coming into a civilization which, although utterly
unknown to him by experience, yet had in his anticipation a