that I may possibly have been mistaken in my views and treatment of you
and your kind, and indeed of other creatures. If so, I apologise for
any, ah--temporary inconvenience I may have caused you. I can do no
more."

"Come, Hare," I interposed, "that's handsome; perhaps you might let
bygones be bygones."

"Apologise!" exclaimed the Hare. "After all I have suffered I do not
think it is enough. At the very least, Mahatma, he should say that he is
heartily ashamed and sorry."

"Well, well," said the Man, "it's no use making two bites of a cherry. I
am sorry, truly sorry for all the pain and terror I have brought on you.
If that won't do let's go up and settle the matter, and if I've been
wrong I'll try to bear the consequences like a gentleman. Only, Mr.
Hare, I hope that you will not wish to put your case more strongly
against me than you need."

"Not I, Man. I know now that you only erred because the truth had not
been revealed to you--because you did not understand. All that I will
ask, if I can, is that you may be allowed to tell this truth to other
men."

"Well, I am glad to say I can't do that, Hare."

"Don't be so sure," I broke in; "it's just the kind of thing which might
be decreed--a generation or two hence when the world is fit to listen to
you."