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Under
the
inspiring
touch
of
the
drifting
newspaper
I
became
practical
again
for
a
while
.
It
was
quite
clear
to
me
that
what
I
had
to
do
was
to
get
back
to
earth
,
but
as
far
as
I
could
see
I
was
drifting
away
from
it
.
Whatever
had
happened
to
Cavor
,
even
if
he
was
still
alive
,
which
seemed
to
me
incredible
after
that
blood-stained
scrap
,
I
was
powerless
to
help
him
.
There
he
was
,
living
or
dead
behind
the
mantle
of
that
rayless
night
,
and
there
he
must
remain
at
least
until
I
could
summon
our
fellow
men
to
his
assistance
.
Should
I
do
that
?
Something
of
the
sort
I
had
in
my
mind
;
to
come
back
to
earth
if
it
were
possible
,
and
then
as
maturer
consideration
might
determine
,
either
to
show
and
explain
the
sphere
to
a
few
discreet
persons
,
and
act
with
them
,
or
else
to
keep
my
secret
,
sell
my
gold
,
obtain
weapons
,
provisions
,
and
an
assistant
,
and
return
with
these
advantages
to
deal
on
equal
terms
with
the
flimsy
people
of
the
moon
,
to
rescue
Cavor
,
if
that
were
still
possible
,
and
at
any
rate
to
procure
a
sufficient
supply
of
gold
to
place
my
subsequent
proceedings
on
a
firmer
basis
.
But
that
was
hoping
far
;
I
had
first
to
get
back
.
I
set
myself
to
decide
just
exactly
how
the
return
to
earth
could
be
contrived
.
As
I
struggled
with
that
problem
I
ceased
to
worry
about
what
I
should
do
when
I
got
there
.
At
last
my
only
care
was
to
get
back
.
I
puzzled
out
at
last
that
my
best
chance
would
be
to
drop
back
towards
the
moon
as
near
as
I
dared
in
order
to
gather
velocity
,
then
to
shut
my
windows
,
and
fly
behind
it
,
and
when
I
was
past
to
open
my
earthward
windows
,
and
so
get
off
at
a
good
pace
homeward
.
But
whether
I
should
ever
reach
the
earth
by
that
device
,
or
whether
I
might
not
simply
find
myself
spinning
about
it
in
some
hyperbolic
or
parabolic
curve
or
other
,
I
could
not
tell
.
Later
I
had
a
happy
inspiration
,
and
by
opening
certain
windows
to
the
moon
,
which
had
appeared
in
the
sky
in
front
of
the
earth
,
I
turned
my
course
aside
so
as
to
head
off
the
earth
,
which
it
had
become
evident
to
me
I
must
pass
behind
without
some
such
expedient
.
I
did
a
very
great
deal
of
complicated
thinking
over
these
problems
--
for
I
am
no
mathematician
--
and
in
the
end
I
am
certain
it
was
much
more
my
good
luck
than
my
reasoning
that
enabled
me
to
hit
the
earth
.
Had
I
known
then
,
as
I
know
now
,
the
mathematical
chances
there
were
against
me
,
I
doubt
if
I
should
have
troubled
even
to
touch
the
studs
to
make
any
attempt
.
And
having
puzzled
out
what
I
considered
to
be
the
thing
to
do
,
I
opened
all
my
moonward
windows
,
and
squatted
down
--
the
effort
lifted
me
for
a
time
some
feet
or
so
into
the
air
,
and
I
hung
there
in
the
oddest
way
--
and
waited
for
the
crescent
to
get
bigger
and
bigger
until
I
felt
I
was
near
enough
for
safety
.
Then
I
would
shut
the
windows
,
fly
past
the
moon
with
the
velocity
I
had
got
from
it
--
if
I
did
not
smash
upon
it
--
and
so
go
on
towards
the
earth
.
And
that
is
what
I
did
.
At
last
I
felt
my
moonward
start
was
sufficient
.
I
shut
out
the
sight
of
the
moon
from
my
eyes
,
and
in
a
state
of
mind
that
was
,
I
now
recall
,
incredibly
free
from
anxiety
or
any
distressful
quality
,
I
sat
down
to
begin
a
vigil
in
that
little
speck
of
matter
in
infinite
space
that
would
last
until
I
should
strike
the
earth
.
The
heater
had
made
the
sphere
tolerably
warm
,
the
air
had
been
refreshed
by
the
oxygen
,
and
except
for
that
faint
congestion
of
the
head
that
was
always
with
me
while
I
was
away
from
earth
,
I
felt
entire
physical
comfort
.
I
had
extinguished
the
light
again
,
lest
it
should
fail
me
in
the
end
;
I
was
in
darkness
,
save
for
the
earthshine
and
the
glitter
of
the
stars
below
me
.
Everything
was
so
absolutely
silent
and
still
that
I
might
indeed
have
been
the
only
being
in
the
universe
,
and
yet
,
strangely
enough
,
I
had
no
more
feeling
of
loneliness
or
fear
than
if
I
had
been
lying
in
bed
on
earth
.
Now
,
this
seems
all
the
stranger
to
me
,
since
during
my
last
hours
in
that
crater
of
the
moon
,
the
sense
of
my
utter
loneliness
had
been
an
agony
...
Incredible
as
it
will
seem
,
this
interval
of
time
that
I
spent
in
space
has
no
sort
of
proportion
to
any
other
interval
of
time
in
my
life
.
Sometimes
it
seemed
as
though
I
sat
through
immeasurable
eternities
like
some
god
upon
a
lotus
leaf
,
and
again
as
though
there
was
a
momentary
pause
as
I
leapt
from
moon
to
earth
.
In
truth
,
it
was
altogether
some
weeks
of
earthly
time
.
But
I
had
done
with
care
and
anxiety
,
hunger
or
fear
,
for
that
space
.
I
floated
,
thinking
with
a
strange
breadth
and
freedom
of
all
that
we
had
undergone
,
and
of
all
my
life
and
motives
,
and
the
secret
issues
of
my
being
.
I
seemed
to
myself
to
have
grown
greater
and
greater
,
to
have
lost
all
sense
of
movement
;
to
be
floating
amidst
the
stars
,
and
always
the
sense
of
earth
's
littleness
and
the
infinite
littleness
of
my
life
upon
it
,
was
implicit
in
my
thoughts
.
I
ca
n't
profess
to
explain
the
things
that
happened
in
my
mind
.
No
doubt
they
could
all
be
traced
directly
or
indirectly
to
the
curious
physical
conditions
under
which
I
was
living
.
I
set
them
down
here
just
for
what
they
are
worth
,
and
without
any
comment
.
The
most
prominent
quality
of
it
was
a
pervading
doubt
of
my
own
identity
.
I
became
,
if
I
may
so
express
it
,
dissociate
from
Bedford
;
I
looked
down
on
Bedford
as
a
trivial
,
incidental
thing
with
which
I
chanced
to
be
connected
.
I
saw
Bedford
in
many
relations
--
as
an
ass
or
as
a
poor
beast
,
where
I
had
hitherto
been
inclined
to
regard
him
with
a
quiet
pride
as
a
very
spirited
or
rather
forcible
person
.
I
saw
him
not
only
as
an
ass
,
but
as
the
son
of
many
generations
of
asses
.
I
reviewed
his
school-days
and
his
early
manhood
,
and
his
first
encounter
with
love
,
very
much
as
one
might
review
the
proceedings
of
an
ant
in
the
sand
.
Something
of
that
period
of
lucidity
I
regret
still
hangs
about
me
,
and
I
doubt
if
I
shall
ever
recover
the
full-bodied
self
satisfaction
of
my
early
days
.
But
at
the
time
the
thing
was
not
in
the
least
painful
,
because
I
had
that
extraordinary
persuasion
that
,
as
a
matter
of
fact
,
I
was
no
more
Bedford
than
I
was
any
one
else
,
but
only
a
mind
floating
in
the
still
serenity
of
space
.
Why
should
I
be
disturbed
about
this
Bedford
's
shortcomings
?
I
was
not
responsible
for
him
or
them
.
For
a
time
I
struggled
against
this
really
very
grotesque
delusion
.
I
tried
to
summon
the
memory
of
vivid
moments
,
of
tender
or
intense
emotions
to
my
assistance
;
I
felt
that
if
I
could
recall
one
genuine
twinge
of
feeling
the
growing
severance
would
be
stopped
.
