The strange being, on whom the gift of tongues must have descended, looked up and said: ‘Where am I?’
‘Come on. Wot’s the game, eh? Who are yer, eh? Wotcher doing ’ere?’ roared the policeman, his surprise making him more truculent than usual.
The strange being made no reply, but stared at the policeman, and then looked gravely at the curious, jostling crowd.
‘I know! I know!’ he cried triumphantly, springing to his feet. ‘I’m on—just a minute, I’ll remember—somewhere in the Solar system—I’ve got it—the Earth! That’s it—the Earth! The fools ... giving me the wrong directions. I want Morchas, in the Lunar system—the other side of Pleiades. Fancy striking this place again! I’ve been on the Earth before. I was murdered here for speaking the truth, ten thousand years ago. Bah!’
With that he disappeared, to the great astonishment of all present.
THE VALUE OF A NEW POINT OF VIEW
SAILING westward from the Island of Fata Morgana, I came upon Pierrot in his little white boat. We were old acquaintances, and I asked him if the gods were still using him kindly, and how things were looking on the Moon, his home.
‘I have been away from home for some time,’ he replied, ‘but am just about to return. Will you come with me?’
So I clambered into his little boat, and told my own ship to return to the Island of Fata Morgana. We sailed on and on, Pierrot enlivening the dim hours with his strange Moon-songs, until at last he brought the boat to anchor in a little bay, and I landed, for the first time, at the pale country of the Moon.
‘You know,’ I said to Pierrot, as we wandered among the fantastic green shadows, ‘I have always longed to visit the Moon. The World is so dull, now, and the Moon always seemed to us such a mad and merry place.’