Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (296 page)

"I've
asked
myself
thousands
of
times,"
Mr.
Strenberry
went
on, more
reflectively
now,
"what
would
have
happened
if
he
had
got
out. Would
he
have
ruled
the
whole
world,
knowing
so
much
more
than we
do?
Or
would
these
fools
have
shoved
him
into
a
cage,
made
a show
of
him,
and
finally
killed
him?
Though
I
don't
imagine
they could
have
done
that,
not
with
this
man.
And
then
again,
could
he have
existed
at
all
once
he
had
got
out?
I
don't
mean
just
microbes and
things,
though
they
might
easily
have
killed
him
off,
because
I don't
suppose
his
body
knew
anything
about
such
a
germ-ridden
atmosphere
as
ours.
No,
I
don't
mean
that.
This
is
the
point.
If
he'd
got out,
really
burst
into
this
twentieth-century
world,
he
might
have stopped
existing
at
all,
just
vanished
into
nothing,
because
after
all this
twentieth-century
isn't
just
a
date,
it's
also
a
condition,
a
state
of things,
and—you
see—it
doesn't
include
him.
Though,
of
course,
in
a sense
it
does—or
it
did—because
there
he
was,
on
the
Heath
that day."

"I'm
afraid
I
don't
follow
all
this,"
I
said.
"But
go
on,
perhaps
it will
become
clearer."

Mr.
Strenberry
leaned
forward
and
fixed
me
with
his
little
boiled eyes.
"Don't
you
see,
this
man
had
come
from
the
future?
Fellows
like H.
G.
Wells
have
always
been
writing
about
us
taking
a
jump
into
the future,
to
have
a
look
at
our
distant
descendants,
but
of
course
we don't.
We
can't;
we
don't
know
enough.
But
what
about
them,
taking a
jump
into
the
past,
to
have
a
look
at
us?
That's
far
more
likely, when
you
come
to
think
of
it.
But
I
don't
mean
that
is
what
this
man was
doing.
He
was
trying
to
do
more
than
that.
If
you
ask
me,
they'd often
taken
a
peep
at
us,
and
at
our
great-great-grandparents,
and
for that
matter
at
our
great-great-grandchildren
too.
But
he
wasn't
just doing
that.
He
was
trying
to
get
out,
to
escape
from
his
own
time altogether."

I
drew
in
a
long
breath,
then
blew
it
out
again,
slowly.

"Don't
you
think
I'm
merely
guessing
that,"
cried
Mr.
Strenberry,
"because
I'm
not.
I
know.
And
I
know
because
he
told
me.
I
don't mean
to
say
we
talked.
As
a
matter
of
fact,
I
did
try
shouting
at
him— asking
him
who
he
was
and
where
he'd
come
from,
and
all
that—but I
don't
think
he
heard
me,
and
if
he
did,
he
certainly
didn't
understand.
But
don't
make
any
mistake—he
saw
me
all
right.
He
looked
at me
just
as
I
looked
at
him.
He
made
a
sign
or
two,
and
might
have made
more
if
he
hadn't
been
so
busy
with
those
instruments
and
so desperately
agitated.
He
didn't
shout
at
me,
never
opened
his
lips. But
he
thought
at
me.
That's
the
only
way
I
can
describe
it.
Messages from
him
arrived
in
my
head,
and
turned
themselves
into
my
own words,
and
even
little
pictures.
And
it
was
horrible—horrible,
I
tell you.
Everything
was
finished,
and
he
was
trying
to
escape.
The
only way
he
could
do
it
was
to
try
and
jump
back
into
the
past,
out
of
the way.
There
wasn't
much
of
the
world
left,
fit
to
live
in.
Just
one
biggish
island,
not
belonging
to
any
of
the
continents
we
know—they'd all
gone,
long
ago.
I
don't
know
the
date.
That
never
came
through, and
if
it
had,
I
don't
suppose
it
would
have
told
me
much.
But
it
was a
long
time
ahead—perhaps
twenty
thousand
years,
perhaps
fifty
thousand,
perhaps
more—I
don't
know.
What
I
do
know
is
that
this
man wasn't
anybody
very
important,
just
a
sort
of
minor
assistant
in
some kind
of
laboratory
where
they
specialized
in
time
experiments,
quite
a low-class
fellow
among
his
own
kind,
though
he
would
have
seemed
a demigod
to
me
and
you.
And
I
knew
that
while
he
was
so
terrified that
he
was
frantic
in
his
attempt
to
escape,
at
the
same
time
he
was ashamed
of
himself,
too—felt
he
was
a
kind
of
dodger,
you
see.
But even
then,
what
was
happening
was
so
ghastly
that
he'd
never
hesitated
at
all.
He
had
run
to
the
laboratory
or
whatever
it
was,
and
just had
time
to
jump
back
through
the
ages.
He
was
in
terror.
He
didn't show
it
as
we
might,
but
I
tell
you—his
mind
was
screaming.
Some
place—a
city,
I
think
it
was—had
been
entirely
destroyed
and
everything
else
was
going
too,
everything
that
had
once
been
human.
No words
came
into
my
mind
to
describe
what
it
was
that
was
destroying everything
and
terrifying
him.
Perhaps
I
hadn't
any
words
that
would fit
in.
All
I
got
were
some
little
pictures,
very
blurred,
just
like