But apart from the physical and mental discomfort of his situation he was not actually hurt, and at length he felt himself come to rest. The Baron, worn out by his unproductive labours, was thinking.
So was Bowles. He was just saying to himself, "Thank heaven I thought of choosing smooth maces. A spike would have punctured the cover in no time," when he felt something which made his hair stand on end.
His enemy was fumbling at the lacing of his tunic!
Then poor little Sir Bowles gave himself up for lost and almost swooned away. He felt the Baron undo the lace and pull out the tube. There was a perplexed pause....
And just as the Baron was pulling out the valve pin little Mr. Bowles woke with a shriek.
I suppose it was the fact that he had come straight from a symposium on transmigration that made little Bowles imagine he had been recurring to a previous existence. I myself should have thought that the rules of the game required the reincarnation of Sir Bors to be a rather more bloodthirsty and pugnacious person than our hero; and the sequel seems to prove that little Bowles thought the same. I think he felt he was not quite the man for this sort of rough work, even in the retrospect of dreams. Anyway, shortly after his painful experience he withdrew his subscription from the Puddlesby Psychical Society and ceased for ever to assist at their séances.
Wicket-keeper (by way of shewing sympathy to victim of demon bowler). "Rum game, cricket."