revolution in civilised existence. It is the beginning of our escape

from that Time Garment of which Carlyle speaks. While this Accelerator

will enable us to concentrate ourselves with tremendous impact

upon any moment or occasion that demands our utmost sense and vigour,

the Retarder will enable us to pass in passive tranquillity through

infinite hardship and tedium. Perhaps I am a little optimistic

about the Retarder, which has indeed still to be discovered, but

about the Accelerator there is no possible sort of doubt whatever.

Its appearance upon the market in a convenient, controllable,

and assimilable form is a matter of the next few months. It will be

obtainable of all chemists and druggists, in small green bottles,

at a high but, considering its extraordinary qualities, by no means

excessive price. Gibberne's Nervous Accelerator it will be called,

and he hopes to be able to supply it in three strengths: one in 200,

one in 900, and one in 2000, distinguished by yellow, pink, and

white labels respectively.



No doubt its use renders a great number of very extraordinary things

possible; for, of course, the most remarkable and, possibly, even

criminal proceedings may be effected with impunity by thus dodging,

as it were, into the interstices of time. Like all potent preparations

it will be liable to abuse. We have, however, discussed this aspect

of the question very thoroughly, and we have decided that this

is purely a matter of medical jurisprudence and altogether outside

our province. We shall manufacture and sell the Accelerator, and,

as for the consequences--we shall see.





9. MR. LEDBETTER'S VACATION



My friend, Mr. Ledbetter, is a round-faced little man, whose natural

mildness of eye is gigantically exaggerated when you catch the beam

through his glasses, and whose deep, deliberate voice irritates

irritable people. A certain elaborate clearness of enunciation has

come with him to his present vicarage from his scholastic days, an

elaborate clearness of enunciation and a certain nervous determination

to be firm and correct upon all issues, important and unimportant

alike. He is a sacerdotalist and a chess player, and suspected by many

of the secret practice of the higher mathematics--creditable rather

than interesting things. His conversation is copious and given

much to needless detail. By many, indeed, his intercourse is

condemned, to put it plainly, as "boring," and such have even done

me the compliment to wonder why I countenance him. But, on the other

hand, there is a large faction who marvel at his countenancing

such a dishevelled, discreditable acquaintance as myself. Few appear

to regard our friendship with equanimity. But that is because they

do not know of the link that binds us, of my amiable connection

via Jamaica with Mr. Ledbetter's past.



About that past he displays an anxious modesty. "I do not KNOW what



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