know one sees after lightning, I mean it's as clear as that even
now, in memory. Oh yes, I remember. And then, I suppose, came the
sleep--stupid, sluggish: and then; well, here I am.'

'You are absolutely certain, then,' persisted Mr Bethany almost
querulously, 'there was no living creature near you? Bless me,
Lawford, I see no unkindness in believing what the Bible itself
relates. There are powers supernatural. Saul, and so on. We are
all convinced of that. No one?'

'I remember distinctly,' replied Lawford, in a calm, stubborn
voice, 'I looked up all around me, while I was kneeling there,
and there wasn't a soul to be seen. Because, you see, it even
then occurred to me that it would have looked rather queer--my
wandering about like that, I mean. Facing me there were some
cypress-trees, and beyond, a low sunken fence, and then, just
open country. Up above there were the gravestones toppling down
the hill, where I had just strolled down, and sunshine!' He
suddenly threw up his hand. 'Oh, marvellous! streaming in
gold--flaming, like God's own ante-chamber.'

There was a very pregnant pause. Mr Bethany shrunk back a little
into his chair. His lips moved; he folded his spectacles.

'Yes, yes,' he said. And then very quietly he stole one mole-like
look into his sidesman's face.

'What is Dr Simon's number?' he said. Lawford was gazing gloomily
into the fire. 'Oh, Annandale,' he replied absently. 'I don't
know the number.'