ed to the part with his finger. 'Also,
here is one little white lever, and here is another.'

The Medical Man got up out of his chair and peered into the thing.
'It's beautifully made,' he said.

'It took two years to make,' retorted the Time Traveller. Then, when
we had all imitated the action of the Medical Man, he said: 'Now I
want you clearly to understand that this lever, being pressed over,
sends the machine gliding into the future, and this other reverses
the motion. This saddle represents the seat of a time traveller.
Presently I am going to press the lever, and off the machine will
go. It will vanish, pass into future Time, and disappear. Have a
good look at the thing. Look at the table too, and satisfy
yourselves there is no trickery. I don't want to waste this model,
and then be told I'm a quack.'

There was a minute's pause perhaps. The Psychologist seemed about to
speak to me, but changed his mind. Then the Time Traveller put forth
his finger towards the lever. 'No,' he said suddenly. 'Lend me your
hand.' And turning to the Psychologist, he took that individual's
hand in his own and told him to put out his forefinger. So that it
was the Psychologist himself who sent forth the model Time Machine
on its interminable voyage. We all saw the lever turn. I am
absolutely certain there was no trickery. There was a breath of
wind, and the lamp flame jumped. One of the candles on the mantel
was blown out, and the little machine suddenly swung round, became
indistinct, was seen as a ghost for a second perhaps, as an eddy of
faintly glittering brass and ivory; and it was gone--vanished! Save
for the lamp the table was bare.

Everyone was silent for a minute. Then Filby said he was damned.

The Psychologist recovered from his stupor, and suddenly looked
under the table. At that the Time Traveller laughed cheerfully.
'Well?' he said, with a reminiscence of the Psychologist. Then,
getting up, he went to the tobacco jar on the mantel, and with his
back to us began to fill his pipe.

We stared at each other. 'Look here,' said the Medical Man, 'are you
in earnest about this? Do you seriously believe that that machine
has travelled into time?'

'Certainly,' said the Time Traveller, stooping to light a spill at
the fire. Then he turned, lighting his pipe, to look at the
Psychologist's face. (The Psychologist, to show that he was not
unhinged, helped himself to a cigar and tried to light it uncut.)
'What is more, I ha