Jones remembered all this perfectly well, and thought it was his intense
preoccupation that made the distance seem so short. But it was when the
Tower was left behind and they turned northwards that he began to notice
how altered everything was, and saw that they were in a neighbourhood
where houses were suddenly scarce, and lanes and fields beginning,
and that their only light was the stars overhead. And, as the deeper
consciousness more and more asserted itself to the exclusion of the
surface happenings of his mere body during the day, the sense of
exhaustion vanished, and he realised that he was moving somewhere in the
region of causes behind the veil, beyond the gross deceptions of the
senses, and released from the clumsy spell of space and time.

Without great surprise, therefore, he turned and saw that his companion
had altered, had shed his overcoat and black hat, and was moving beside
him absolutely _without sound_. For a brief second he saw him, tall as a
tree, extending through space like a great shadow, misty and wavering of
outline, followed by a sound like wings in the darkness; but, when he
stopped, fear clutching at his heart, the other resumed his former
proportions, and Jones could plainly see his normal outline against the
green field behind.

Then the secretary saw him fumbling at his neck, and at the same moment
the black beard came away from the face in his hand.

"Then you _are_ Thorpe!" he gasped, yet somehow without overwhelming
surprise.

They stood facing one another in the lonely lane, trees meeting overhead
and hiding the stars, and a sound of mournful sighing among the