"Good night, M. Gaston!" said Gianapolis, in radiant benediction. "Au revoir, monsieur!" M. Max followed Ho-Pin to Block A and was conducted to a room at the extreme right of the matting-lined corridor. He glanced about it curiously. "If you will pwrepare for your flight into the subliminal," said Ho-Pin, bowing in the doorway, "I shall pwresently wreturn with your wings."

"You will pwrepare for youwr duties," came the metallic gutturals of Ho-Pin. "Bwreakfast will be bwrought to you in a quawrter-of-an-hour." He made no reply, but stood looking about him dully. It had not been a dream, then, nor was he mad.