knowthathewasnotawareofwhathewassaying，forhisthoughtswereoutontheseawithLongfellow。
“Charlie。”Iasked，“whentherowersonthegalleysmutiniedhowdidtheykilltheiroverseers？”
“Toreupthebenchesandbrained’emThathappenedwhenaheavyseawasrunningAnoverseeronthelowerdeckslippedfromthecentreplankandfellamongtherowersTheychokedhimtodeathagainstthesideoftheshipwiththeirchainedhandsquitequietly，anditwastoodarkfortheotheroverseertoseewhathadhappenedWhenheasked，hewaspulleddowntooandchoked，andthelowerdeckfoughttheirwayupdeckbydeck，withthepiecesofthebrokenbenchesbangingbehind’emHowtheyhowled！”
“Andwhathappenedafterthat？”
“Idon’tknowTheherowentaway-redhairandredbeardandall。
Thatwasafterhehadcapturedourgalley，Ithink“
Thesoundofmyvoiceirritatedhim，andhemotionedslightlywithhislefthandasamandoeswheninterruptionjars。
“Younevertoldmehewasredheadedbefore，orthathecapturedyourgalley。”Isaid，afteradiscreetinterval。
Charliedidnotraisehiseyes。
“Hewasasredasaredbear。”saidhe，abstractedly“Hecamefromthenorth；theysaidsointhegalleywhenhelookedforrowers-riotslaves，butfreemenAfterward-yearsandyearsafterward-newscamefromanothership，orelsehecameback“-HislipsmovedinsilenceHewasrapturouslyretastingsomepoembeforehim。
“Wherehadhebeen，then？”IwasalmostwhisperingthatthesentencemightcomegentletowhicheversectionofCharlie’sbrainwasworkingonmybehalf。
“TotheBeaches-theLongandWonderfulBeaches！”wasthereply，afteraminuteofsilence。
“ToFurdurstrandi？”Iasked，tinglingfromheadtofoot。
“Yes，toFurdurstrandi。”hepronouncedthewordinanewfashion“AndItoosaw“-Thevoicefailed。
“Doyouknowwhatyouhavesaid？”Ishouted，incautiously。
Heliftedhiseyes，fullyrousednow“No！”hesnapped“Iwishyou’dletachapgoonreadingHarktothis：
“’ButOthere，theoldseacaptain，HeneitherpausednorstirredTillthekinglistened，andthen’OncemoretookuphispenAndwrotedowneveryword。
“’AndtotheKingoftheSaxonsInwitnessofthetruth，Raisinghisnoblehead，Hestretchedhisbrownhandandsaid，“Beholdthiswalrustooth。”
ByJove，whatchapsthosemusthavebeen，togosailingallovertheshopneverknowingwherethey’dfetchtheland！Hah！”
“Charlie。”Ipleaded，“ifyou’llonlyhesensibleforaminuteortwoI’llmakeourheroinourtaleeveryinchasgoodasOthere。”
“Umph！LongfellowwrotethatpoemIdon’tcareaboutwritingthingsanymoreIwanttoread。”Hewasthoroughlyoutoftunenow，andragingovermyownill-luck，Ilefthim。
Conceiveyourselfatthedooroftheworld’streasure-houseguardedbyachild-anidleirresponsiblechildplayingknuckle-
bones-onwhosefavordependsthegiftofthekey，andyouwillimagineone-halfmytormentTillthateveningCharliehadspokennothingthatmightnotliewithintheexperiencesofaGreekgalley-slaveButnow，ortherewasnovirtueinbooks，hehadtalkedofsomedesperateadventureoftheVikings，ofThorfinKarlsefne’ssailingtoWineland，whichisAmerica，intheninthortenthcenturyThebattleintheharborhehadseen；andhisowndeathhehaddescribedButthiswasamuchmorestartlingplungeintothepastWasitpossiblethathehadskippedhalfadozenlivesandwasthendimlyrememberingsomeepisodeofathousandyearslater？Itwasamaddeningjumble，andtheworstofitwasthatCharlieMearsinhisnormalconditionwasthelastpersonintheworldtoclearitupIcouldonlywaitandwatch，butIwenttobedthatnightfullofthewildestimaginingsTherewasnothingthatwasnotpossibleifCharlie’sdetestablememoryonlyheldgood。
ImightrewritetheSagaofThorfinKarlsefneasithadneverbeenwrittenbefore，mighttellthestoryofthefirstdiscoveryofAmerica，myselfthediscovererButIwasentirelyatCharlie’smercy，andsolongastherewasathree-and-six-pennyBohnvolumewithinhisreachCharliewouldnottellIdarednotcursehimopenly；Ihardlydaredjoghismemory，forIwasdealingwiththeexperiencesofathousandyearsago，toldthroughthemouthofaboyoftoday；andaboyofto-dayisaffectedbyeverychangeoftoneandgustofopinion，sothatheliesevenwhenhedesirestospeakthetruth。
IsawnomoreofhimfornearlyaweekWhennextImethimitwasinGracechurchStreetwithabillbookchainedtohiswaist。
BusinesstookhimoverLondonBridgeandIaccompaniedhim。
Hewasveryfulloftheimportanceofthatbookandmagnifiedit。
AswepassedovertheThameswepausedtolookatasteamer’
unloadinggreatslabsofwhiteandbro““nmarbleAbargedriftedunderthesteamer’ssternandalonelycowinthatbargebellowed。
Charlie’sfacechangedfromthefaceofthebank-clerktothatofanunknownand-thoughhewouldnothavebelievedthis-amuchshrewdermanHeflungouthisarmacrosstheparapetofthebridge，andlaughingveryloudly，said：
“WhentheyheardourbullsbellowtheSkroelingsranaway！”
Iwaitedonlyforaninstant，butthebargeandthecowhaddisappearedunderthebowsofthesteamerbeforeIanswered。
“Charlie，whatdoyousupposeareSkroelings？”
“Neverheardof’embeforeTheysoundlikeanewkindofseagullWhatachapyouareforaskingquestions！”hereplied“I
havetogotothecashieroftheOmnibusCompanyyonderWillyouwaitformeandwecanlunchsomewheretogether？I’veanotionforapoem。”
“No，thanksI’moffYou’resureyouknownothingaboutSkroelings？”
“Notunlesshe’sbeenenteredfortheLiverpoolHandicap。”Henoddedanddisappearedinthecrowd。
NowitiswrittenintheSagaofErictheRedorthatofThorfinKarlsefne，thatninehundredyearsagowhenKarlsefne’sgalleyscametoLeif’sbooths，whichLeifhaderectedintheunknownlandcalledMarkland，whichmayormaynothavebeenRhodeIsland，theSkroelings-andtheLordHeknowswhothesemayormaynothavebeen-cametotradewiththeVikings，andranawaybecausetheywerefrightenedatthebellowingofthecattlewhichThorfinhadbroughtwithhimintheshipsButwhatintheworldcouldaGreekslaveknowofthataffair？Iwanderedupanddownamongthestreetstryingtounravelthemystery，andthemoreI
consideredit，themorebafflingitgrewOnethingonlyseemedcertainandthatcertaintytookawaymybreathforthemomentIfIcametofullknowledgeofanythingatall，itwouldnotbeonelifeofthesoulinCharlieMears’sbody，buthalfadozen-halfadozenseveralandseparateexistencesspentonbluewaterinthemorningoftheworld！
ThenIwalkedroundthesituation。
ObviouslyifIusedmyknowledgeIshouldstandaloneandunapproachableuntilallmenwereaswiseasmyselfThatwouldbesomething，butmanlikeIwasungratefulItseemedbitterlyunfairthatCharlie’smemoryshouldfailmewhenIneededitmost。
GreatPowersabove-Ilookedupatthemthroughthefogsmoke-
didtheLordsofLifeandDeathknowwhatthismeanttome？
Nothinglessthaneternalfameofthebestkind；thatcomesfromOne，andissharedbyonealoneIwouldbecontent-rememberingClive，Istoodastoundedatmyownmoderation，-withthemererighttotellonestory，toworkoutonelittlecontributiontothelightliteratureofthedayIfCharliewerepermittedfullrecollectionforonehour-forsixtyshortminutes-ofexistencesthathadextendedoverathousandyears-IwouldforegoallprofitandhonorfromallthatIshouldmakeofhisspeechIwouldtakenoshareinthecommotionthatwouldfollowthroughouttheparticularcorneroftheearththatcallsitself“theworld。”ThethingshouldbeputforthanonymouslyNay，IwouldmakeothermenbelievethattheyhadwrittenitTheywouldhirebull-hidedself-advertisingEnglishmentobellowitabroadPreacherswouldfoundafreshconductoflifeuponit，swearingthatitwasnewandthattheyhadliftedthefearofdeathfromallmankind。
EveryOrientalistinEuropewouldpatronizeitdiscursivelywithSanskritandPalitextsTerriblewomenwouldinventuncleanvariantsofthemen’sbelieffortheelevationoftheirsisters。
ChurchesandreligionswouldwaroveritBetweenthehailingandre-startingofanomnibusIforesawthescufflesthatwouldariseamonghalfadozendenominationsallprofessing“thedoctrineoftheTrueMetempsychosisasappliedtotheworldandtheNewEra“；andsaw，too，therespectableEnglishnewspapersshying，likefrightenedkine，overthebeautifulsimplicityofthetaleThemindleapedforwardahundred-twohundred-athousandyearsIsawwithsorrowthatmenwouldmutilateandgarblethestory；thatrivalcreedswouldturnitupsidedowntill，atlast，thewesternworldwhichclingstothedreadofdeathmorecloselythanthehopeoflife，wouldsetitasideasaninterestingsuperstitionandstampedeaftersomefaithsolongforgottenthatitseemedaltogethernewUponthisIchangedthetermsofthebargainthatI
wouldmakewiththeLordsofLifeandDeathOnlyletmeknow，letmewrite，thestorywithsureknowledgethatIwrotethetruth，andIwouldburnthemanuscriptasasolemnsacrificeFiveminutesafterthelastlinewaswrittenIwoulddestroyitallButI
mustbeallowedtowriteitwithabsolutecertainty。
TherewasnoanswerTheflamingcolorsofanAquariumpostercaughtmyeyeandIwonderedwhetheritwouldbewiseorprudenttolureCharlieintothehandsoftheprofessionalmesmerist，andwhether，ifhewereunderhispower，hewouldspeakofhispastlivesIfhedid，andifpeoplebelievedhimbutCharliewouldbefrightenedandflustered，ormadeconceitedbytheinterviews。
Ineithercasehewouldbegintolie，throughfearorvanityHewassafestinmyownhands。
“Theyareveryfunnyfools，yourEnglish。”saidavoiceatmyelbow，andturningroundIrecognizedacasualacquaintance，ayoungBengalilawstudent，calledGrishChunder，whosefatherhadsenthimtoEnglandtobecomecivilizedTheoldmanwasaretirednativeofficial，andonanincomeoffivepoundsamonthcontrivedtoallowhissontwohundredpoundsayear，andtherunofhisteethinacitywherehecouldpretendtobethecadetofaroyalhouse，andtellstoriesofthebrutalIndianbureaucratswhogroundthefacesofthepoor。
GrishChunderwasayoung，fat，full-bodiedBengalidressedwithscrupulouscareinfrockcoat，tallhat，lighttrousersandtangloves。
ButIhadknownhiminthedayswhenthebrutalIndianGovernmentpaidforhisuniversityeducation，andhecontributedcheapseditiontoSachiDurpan，andintriguedwiththewivesofhisschoolmates。
“Thatisveryfunnyandveryfoolish。”hesaid，noddingattheposter“IamgoingdowntotheNorthbrookClubWillyoucometoo？”
Iwalkedwithhimforsometime“You’arenotwell。”hesaid。
“Whatisthereinyourmind？Youdonottalk。”
“GrishChunder，you’vebeentoowelleducatedtobelieveinaGod，haven’tvou？”
“Oah，yes，here！ButwhenIgohomeImustconciliatepopularsuperstition，andmakeceremoniesofpurification，andmywomenwillanointidols。”
“Andbanguptulsiandfeastthepurohit，andtakeyoubackintocasteagainandmakeagoodkhuttrjofyouagain，youadvancedsocialFree-thinkerAndyou’lleatdesifood，andlikeitall，fromthesmellinthecourtyardtothemustardoiloveryou。”
“Ishallverymuchlikeit。”saidGrishChunder，unguardedly。
“OnceaHindu-alwaysaHinduButIliketoknowwhattheEnglishthinktheyknow。”
“I’lltellyousomethingthatoneEnglishmanknowsIt’sanoldtaletoyou。”
IbegantotellthestoryofCharlieinEnglish，butGrishChunderputaquestioninthevernacular，andthehistorywentforwardnaturallyinthetonguebestsuitedforitstellingAfterallitcouldneverhavebeentoldinEnglishGrishChunderheardme，noddingfromtimetotime，andthencameuptomyroomswhereIfinishedthetale。
“Beshak。”hesaid，philosophically“Lekindarwazabandhai。
Withoutdoubt，butthedoorisshut。IhaveheardofthisrememberingofpreviousexistencesamongmypeopleItisofcourseanoldtalewithus，but，tohappentoanEnglishman-acow-fedMalechk-anoutcastByJove，thatismostpeculiar！”