Paul was
aware of, and he was pretty familiar with the common.

"He can't be on a visit to any one, unless it be the pixies, or
creatures of that sort," thought Paul. "P'raps he's thinking out some
scientific problem, and finds this wild part the best place to do it
in."

He paused for an instant. What was the use of going farther? He was on a
wildgoose chase, but still the overmastering impulse which had led him
to follow Mr. Weevil held him in its grip and would not let him turn
back. So he went on in close pursuit of the shadowy figure in front of
him.

"Why, he'll be getting to the river presently. Perhaps that is what he
is making for?" thought Paul as the master plunged deeper into the
thicket.

The river skirted the far side of the common, and it was precisely in
that direction Mr. Weevil was travelling. He had never once looked to
the right or left, so absorbed had he been in his thoughts, but now he
suddenly paused and looked back.

Paul had just time to hide himself in the friendly shelter of a tree. He
stood there for an instant, then peeped out from his hiding-place. He
caught one glimpse of Mr. Weevil, and then, to his amazement, he
disappeared from view as completely as though the earth had opened and
swallowed him up.

Paul rubbed his eyes. What was the meaning of it! Where had the master
disappeared to? Had he been following some phantom, or had Mr. Weevil
really sunk through the ground? Paul advanced to the spot. There was
apparently nothing there but bushes. Again and again he pondered on the
strange disappearance of the master and was unable to account for it.

"Well, if that isn't one of the strangest things I've ever seen," said
he to himself. "Mr. Weevil was there a minute since, as large as life
and twice as natural. Now he's gone."

A feeling of awe stole over Paul. Mr. Weevil had always seemed a strange
being, a man quite by himself, and different from ordinary beings. Had
his dealings with science taught him some dark secret by which he could
make himself invisible? But Paul quickly dismissed this wild idea from
his mind. The days of miracles were past. Whatever Mr. Weevil's
knowledge of science, it did not lend itself to feats of magic worthy of
the genii in the enchanted realms of _The Arabian Nights_.

None the less, where was he? What had become of him? Paul examined the
bushes as closely as the darkness would permit, but could find no trace
of the master. He stood still and lis