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particular case he'd just

knocked it loose and it was rolling.

Imaginary thunder grumbled in his ears.

IV

When, a week later, he was bidden to attend at a meeting in the Chamber

of Full Council of the Society of Time -- the first occasion he had set

foot within it -- Don Miguel had still not been informed whether his

inspired deductions had been correct. It was therefore with considerable

apprehension that he took his place and looked around.

The atmosphere of the Chamber was rich with a sense of authority and

ritual, like the interior of a great cathedral -- which in many ways it

resembled. It was panelled with fine dark woods inlaid with gold; most of

its floor-space was occupied by four tables arranged in the shape of two

capital L's, with gaps at diagonally opposite corners. These tables were

draped with dark red velvet; chairs ranged along them were upholstered

in the same material, except for one which was still vacant. That was

purple, the prince's colour, and it stood at the eastern end of the

room, transfixed like a butterfly on a pin by a shaft of pure white

light stabbing down from the ceiling. Another shaft of light, focused

horizontally, completed a cross at twice a man's height from the floor.

Along the northern table, robed, cowled, and in shadow, were ranged

five persons whom Don Miguel knew to be the General Officers of

the Society. But at present he was unable to tell which of them was

which. Behind them, immobile, their private secretaries stood dutifully

awaiting their masters' orders.

He himself was seated in the middle of the western side of the oblong

formed by the tables, while on the southern side, opposite the General

Officers, were . . . What to call them? One could hardly say they were

prisoners, even if they had been brought here under guard, for as yet

there had been no trial nor even any official charges. Perhaps one could

call them "the witnesses' -- but then he too was a witness.

At all events, they comprised the Marquesa, attended by two of her

personal maids, Don Arcimboldo, who was alone, and the merchant Higgins

from whom the Aztec mask had been purchased. The Marquesa had been

weeping, Higgins was plainly terrified to the point of petrifaction,

but Don Arcimboldo had an air of puzzled boredom, as though he was

certain that this stupid misunderstanding would shortly be regulated.

And, on the velvet-covered table in front of the vacant purple chair,

the mask itself rested like a great golden toad.

Suddenly there was a ring of trumpets, and the air seemed to grow tense.

There was movement behind the empty chair, at the eastern doorway of the

Chamber. A herald garbed in cloth-of-gold strode forward and spoke in

a voice much resembling the tone of the trumpets which had just sounded.

"Be upstanding for His Highness the Prince of New Castile, by His Majesty's

direction Commander of the Society of Time!"

All those present in the room rose to their feet and bowed.

When they were told in a grunting voice to sit down again, the Prince

had already taken his place. Previously Don Miguel had only seen the

Commander of the Society from a distance, at official functions in public

where he was surrounded by his enormous retinue and there was small chance

of a mere Licentiate getting to close quarters with him. Accordingly he

studied him with interest, seeing a round man with stubby limbs and a

short black beard; a ring of baldness was spreading on his scalp. He wore

the full-dress uniform of a Knight of the Holy Roman Empire, and his

chest glittered with the stars of all the orders which he as a Prince

of the Blood had accumulated. The total effect was impressive; it was

meant to be.

His face was partly in shadow because the light was above him, but it

was possible to discern that his eyes had turned at once in Don Miguel's

direction, and after a few seconds the latter began to feel uncomfortable,

as though he were under the scrutiny of an