“But this delay is exasperating,” persisted the Professor. “All these strange happenings—this mystery—play upon my nerves! I must insist upon an immediate explanation. I must ask you, Colonel—Colonel—pardon me, but what is the name?”
“I am Colonel, Sir Maynard Cuming.”
“Sir Maynard Cuming!” repeated Kearns mystified.
“Sir Maynard Cuming!” exclaimed the Professor, passing his hand over his eyes. “Let me ask you—is this the Republic of the United States, or have we in our sleep, or trance, been spirited into some foreign land?”
“The Republic of the United States?” said the Colonel with a curious smile; “Well—no!”
Kearns and the Professor rose to their feet. Kearns’ eyes were dilated, his hands clenched. The Professor was very pale.
“Speak!” he said. “What country is this and—the date—what?”
“Be calm,” urged the Colonel. “It’s not well you should be told these things now. Wait until later!”
The Professor advanced a step and spoke with all the concentrated energy of a thoroughly aroused man.
“Tell me the truth now,” he said, “or I’ll leave at once and seek it elsewhere.”