Correspondent [shouting]. How did you get into this position? What? I can't hear? Louder! Repeat. What did you say? [Perplexed, to the crowd.] What did he say? The fellow has a devilishly weak voice.
First Tourist. It seems to me he said that he lost his way.
Second Tourist. No, he doesn't know himself how he got there.
Voices. He was out hunting.—He was climbing up the rocks.—No, no! He is simply a lunatic!
Correspondent. I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen! Anyway, he didn't drop from the sky. However—[He quickly jots down in his note-book.] Unhappy young man—suffering from childhood with attacks of lunacy.—The bright light of the full moon—the wild rocks.—Sleepy janitor—didn't notice—
First Tourist [to the second, in a whisper]. But it's a new moon now.
Second Tourist. Go, what does a layman know about astronomy.
Tourist [ecstatically]. Mary, pay attention to this! You have before you an ocular demonstration of the influence of the moon on living organisms. What a terrible tragedy to go out walking on a moonlit night and find suddenly that you have climbed to a place where it is impossible to climb down or be taken down.
Correspondent [shouting]. What feelings are you experiencing? I can't hear. Louder! Ah, so? Well, well! What a situation!
Crowd [interested]. Listen, listen! Let's hear what his feelings are. How terrible!