The moment this idea occurred, it was as though a door had been unclosed, releasing him into the world of which hitherto he had been unconscious. He heard somebody saying:
"Lay him down, Mrs. Gaunt, you had much better. He will come round sooner if his head is quite flat."
Another voice replied, very, very near him: "I tell you I saw his lips move. All the time he was lying flat he never moved, and directly I lifted him up he sighed. There! Look! I tell you he is alive! I said he was! I knew he would come back if I called!—Osbert! Osbert! Can you hear?"
Ah, now, indeed, it would be a grand thing had one the means of letting other people, in other universes, know one's thoughts! He knew he must obey the voice that spoke, yet he was dumb, deaf, blind, because he was so far off. He was sinking away again into the tempting slumber that invited him, in spite of his ardent desire to remain here, where he could be sensible to the beating that was like the beating of a girl's heart.
"Well, lift him again then," said a doubtful voice; and once more he heard the drum, close to his ear. Now it was urgent that he should let it be understood that he knew what was going on. He must step over the edge of the plane on which he moved, and come into that upon which these others were moving; since it was clear that they would not come to him.
"There! I tell you it isn't fancy! He took quite a long breath! Osbert, can you hear me? Open your eyes, and then I shall know."
"By Jove," said another voice, "his eyelids flickered then. I saw it."
"Go on calling him, Mrs. Gaunt. You're right, I believe, it is the only way."
"Another whiff of that oxygen!"
Something like the wind of life swept through him. With an immense effort he opened his eyes.