caused by a coarse blanket, enveloped, pinioned, smothered them. When
the light shone again, they were sitting in a wagon, their legs tightly
bound....

They began singing. The attendant interrupted:--

"Will you fellows keep quiet? How can a man drive straight, listening to
your cackle?"

Arved touched his temple significantly and nudged Quell.

"Another one of us. Another rebel of the moon!"

"Shut up or I'll gag you both!" imperiously commanded the doctor, as the
wheels of the ambulance cut the pebbly road. They were entering the
asylum; now they passed the porter's lodge. In the jewelled light of a
senescent moon, his wife and little daughter gazed at them curiously,
without semblance of pity or fear. Then, as if shot from the same vocal
spring-board, the voices of poet and painter merged into crazy
rhythmatic chanting:--

"Rebels of the moon, rebels of the moon! We are, we are, the rebels of
the moon!"

And the great gates closed behind them with a brazen clangour--metal
gates of the moon-rebels.