"I have never seen such a large time-machine," said Jherek, hoping to put him at ease.

"Have you not?" The time-traveller beamed. "It is unusual, isn't it? Of course, the commercial possibilities have not escaped me, though since the Government took an interest, everything has been shrouded in secrecy, as you can imagine. This was my first opportunity to test it under proper conditions."

"It would be best, sir, I think," cautioned Inspector Springer, "to say no more to these people. They are, after all, suspected alien agents."

"Oh, but we have met before. I had no idea, when I agreed to help, that these were the people you meant. Believe me, Inspector, they are almost undoubtedly innocent of any crime."

"That's for me to decide, sir," reproved the policeman. "The evidence I was able to place before the 'Ome Secretary upon my return was sufficient to convince 'im of a plot against the Crown."

"He seemed somewhat bewildered by the whole affair. His questions to me were not exactly explicit…"

"Oh, it's bewildering , right enough. Cases of this kind often are. But I'll get to the bottom of it, given time." Inspector Springer fingered his watch-chain. "That's why there is a police force, sir. To solve bewildering cases."

"Are you certain that you are within your jurisdiction, Inspector…" began Mrs. Underwood.

"I 'ave ascertained from the gentleman 'ere," Inspector Springer indicated the time-traveller, "that we are still on English soil. Therefore…"

"Is it really?" cried Jherek. "How wonderful!"

"Thought you'd get away with it, eh?" murmured Sergeant Sherwood, eyeing him maliciously. "Made a bit of a mistake, didn't you, my lad?"

" 'Ow many others staying 'ere?" Inspector Springer enquired as he and his men tramped into the main hall. He looked with disgust upon the baskets of flowers which hung everywhere, upon the tapestries and the carpets and the furniture, which was of the most decadent sort of design.

"Only ourselves." Mrs. Underwood glanced away from the grim eye of her husband.

"Ha!" said Mr. Underwood.

"We have separate apartments," she explained to the inspector, upon whose ruddy features there had spread the suggestion of a leer.

"Well, sir," said Sergeant Sherwood, "shall we take this pair back first?"

"To the nineteenth century?" Jherek asked.

"That is what he means," the time-traveller replied on the sergeant's behalf.

"This would be your opportunity, Amelia." Jherek's voice was small. "You said that you wished, still, to return…"

"It is true…" she began.

"Then…?"

"The circumstances…"

"You two 'ad better stay 'ere," Inspector Springer was telling two of the constables, "to keep an eye on 'em. We'll search the premises." He led his men off towards a staircase. Jherek and Amelia sat down on a padded bench.

"Would you care for some tea?" Amelia asked her husband, the time-traveller and the two constables.

"Well…" said one of the constables.

"I think that'd be all right, ma'am," said the other.

Jherek was eager to oblige. He turned a power-ring and produced a silver tea-pot, six china cups and saucers, a milk-jug and a hot-water jug, a silver tea-strainer, six silver spoons and a primus stove.

"Sugar, I think," she murmured, "but not the stove."

He corrected his error.

The two police constables sat down together quite suddenly, goggling at the tea. Mr. Underwood remained standing, but seemed rather more stiff than he had been. He muttered to himself. Only the time-traveller reacted in a normal fashion.

Mrs. Underwood seemed to be suppressing amusement as she poured the tea and handed out the cups. The constables accepted the tea, but only one of them drank any. The other merely said, "Gord!" and put his cup on the table, while his companion grinned weakly and said: "Very good, very good," over and over again.

From above there came a sudden loud cracking sound and a yell. Puzzled, Jherek and Amelia looked up.

"I do hope they are not damaging…" began the time-traveller.

There was a thunder of boots and Inspector Springer, Sergeant Sherwood and their men came tumbling, breathless, back into the hall.

"They're attacking!" cried Sergeant Sherwood to the other two policemen.

" 'Oo?"

"The enemy, of course!" Inspector Springer answered, running to peer cautiously out of the window. "They must know we've occupied these premises. They're a cunning lot, I'll grant you that."

"What happened up there, Inspector?" asked Jherek, carrying forward a cup of tea for his guest.

"Something took the top off the tower, that's all!" Automatically the inspector accepted the tea. "Clean off. Some kind of 'igh-powered naval gun, I'd say. 'Ave you got any sea near 'ere?"

"None, I fear. I wonder who could have done that." Jherek looked enquiringly at Amelia. She shrugged.

"The Wrath of God!" announced Mr. Underwood helpfully, but nobody took much notice of his suggestion.

"I remember once, some flying machine of the Duke of Queens' crashed into my ranch," Jherek said. "Did you notice a flying machine, Inspector?"

Inspector Springer continued to peer through the window. "It was like a bolt from the blue," he said.

"One minute the roof was there," added Sergeant Sherwood, "the next it was gone. There was this explosion — then — bang! — gone. It got very 'ot for a second, too."

"Sounds like some sort of ray," said the time-traveller, helping himself to another cup of tea.

Inspector Springer proved himself a reader of the popular weeklies by the swiftness with which he accepted the notion. "You mean a Death Ray?"

"If you like."

Inspector Springer fingered his moustache. "We were fools not to come armed," he reflected.

"Ah!" Jherek remembered his first encounter with the brigand-musicians in the forest. "That's probably the Lat returned. They had weapons. They demonstrated one. Very powerful they were, too."

"Those Latvians. I might 'ave guessed!" Inspector Springer crouched lower. " 'Ave you any means of telling 'em you're our prisoners?"

"None at all, I fear. I could go and find them, but they could be hundreds of miles away."

" 'undreds? Oh, Lor!" exclaimed Sergeant Sherwood. He looked at the ceiling, as if he expected it to fall in on him. "You're right, Inspector. We should've put in for some pistols."

"The Day of Doom is here!" intoned Harold Underwood, raising a finger.

"We must introduce him to Lord Mongrove," Jherek said, inspired. "They would get on very well, don't you think, Amelia?"

But she did not reply. She was staring with a mixture of sympathy and resignation at her poor, mad husband. "I am to blame," she said. "It is all my doing. Oh, Harold, Harold."

There came another loud report. Cracks began to appear in the walls and ceiling. Jherek turned a power-ring and re-formed the palace. "I think you'll find the roof's back on, Inspector, should you wish to continue your tour."

"I'll receive a medal for this, if I ever get back," said Inspector Springer to himself. He sighed.

"I'd suggest, sir," said his sergeant, "that we make the most of what we've got and return with these two."

"You're probably right. We'll do a dash for it. Better put the gyves on 'em, eh?"

Two constables produced their handcuffs and advanced towards Jherek and Amelia.

At that moment an apparition appeared at the window and drifted through. It was Bishop Castle, completely out of breath, looking extremely excited, his huge mitre askew. "Oh, the adventures, my dears! The Lat have returned and are laying waste to everything! Murder, pillage, rape! It's marvellous! Ah, you have company…"

"I believe you've met most of them," Jherek said. "This is Inspector Springer, Sergeant Sherwood…"