"But, Inspector, you told us that the hamper could not be removed without bringing you instantly to wakefulness!" Mrs. Amelia Underwood was within an ace of tapping her foot; there was a note to her voice which Jherek recognized.
      Inspector Springer also recognized it. He blushed as he held up the wrist to which was attached a severed thong. "I tied it to the 'amper," he said lamely. "They must o' cut it."
      "How long have you been asleep, Inspector?" Jherek asked.
      " 'Ardly at all. A few winks 'ere, a few there. Nothin' to speak of."
      "They were hearty winks!" She drew in a sharp breath as she stared around her in the grey pre-dawn. "Judging by your snores. I heard them all night."
      "Oh, come now, ma'am…"
      "They could be miles away," said Jherek. "You should see them run, when they want to. You did not sleep well either, Mrs. Underwood?"
      "Only the inspector, it seems, enjoyed a satisfying rest." She glared at the policeman. "If you want your house burgled, tell the police you're going on holiday. That's what my brother always used to say."
      "That's 'ardly fair, ma'am…" he began, but he knew he was on shaky ground. "I took every precaution. But these foreigners — with their knives —" again he displayed the severed thong — "well, 'ow can you anticipate…?"
      She inspected the surrounding sand, saying mournfully. " Look at all these footprints. Do you remember, Mr. Carnelian, when we would rise in the morning and go down to the sea and there wouldn't be a mark on the beach? Not a sign of another soul! It's so spoiled now." She was pointing. "There — a fresh trail. Leading inland."
      Certainly, the ground was disturbed. Jherek detected the broad footprints of the departing Lat.
      "They'll be carrying the 'amper," offered Inspector Springer, "so they'll be slowed down a bit." He clutched his midriff. "Ooh, I 'ate to start the day on an empty stomach."
      "That," she said with satisfaction, "is entirely your fault, Inspector!"
      She led the way forward while Jherek and Inspector Springer, tugging on their coats, did their best to keep pace with her.
      Even before they had entered a large stretch of frond-forest and were labouring uphill, Mrs. Underwood's quick eye detecting a broken branch or a crushed leaf as sign-posts to the route of the thieves, the sun had risen, splendid and golden, and begun to beat its hottest. Inspector Springer made much use of his handkerchief on the back of his neck and his forehead, but Mrs. Underwood would not let them pause.
      The hill grew steeper. It was virtually sheer. Still she led; still she allowed them no rest. They panted — Jherek cheerfully and Inspector Springer with loud resentment. At two stages he was heard to breathe the word "Women" in a desperate, incantatory fashion, and at a third he appended another word, in a voice which was entirely inaudible. Jherek, in contrast, was enjoying the exertion, the sense of adventure, though he had no belief that they could catch Captain Mubbers and his men.
      She was a score of yards ahead of them, and higher. "Nearly at the top," she called.
      Inspector Springer was not encouraged. He stopped, leaning against the stem of a fern which rose fifteen feet over his head and rustled as it took the weight of his bulky frame.
      "It would be best," Jherek said, passing him, "if we were to remain as close together as possible. We could so easily become separated."
      "She's a bloomin' mad woman," grunted the inspector. "I knew it all along." But he laboured after Jherek, even catching him up as he clambered over a fallen trunk which left a smear of green on the knees of his trousers. Jherek sniffed. "Your smell! I wondered — I haven't quite smelt anything like it before? It is you. Very odd. Pleasant, I suppose…"
      "Gur!" said Inspector Springer.
      Jherek sniffed again, but continued to climb, now using his hands and his feet, virtually on all fours. "Certainly pungent…"
      "Cor! You cheeky little b—"
      "Excelsior!" It was Mrs. Underwood's voice, though she could no longer be seen. "Oh, it's magnificent!"
      Inspector Springer caught hold of Jherek's ankle. "If you've any further personal comments, I'd be more than grateful if you'd keep them to yourself."
      "I'm sorry, Inspector." Jherek tried to free his foot. He frowned. "I certainly meant no offence. It's simply that such smells — perspiration, is it? — are uncommon at the End of Time. I love it. Really."
      "Ugh!" Inspector Springer let go of Jherek's foot. "I 'ad you marked right from the start, too. Bloomin' cream puff. Cafe Royal — Oscar Wilde — should 'ave trusted me own judgement…"
      "I can see them!" Mrs. Underwood's voice again. "The quarry's in sight!"
      Jherek pressed past a low branch and saw her through the dappled fronds.
      "Ouch!" said Inspector Springer from behind him. "Cor! If I ever get back to London and if I ever lay 'ands on you…"
      The belligerence seemed to give him energy, enabling him, once more, to catch up. They arrived, shoulder to shoulder, to stand at Mrs. Underwood's side. She was flushed. Her eyes shone. She pointed.
      They stood on the edge of a cliff that was almost sheer, its sides dotted with clumps of vegetation. Some hundreds of feet below them the cliff levelled out to a broad, stony beach, touching the wide, placid waters of a creek whose brilliant blue, reflecting the sky, was in beautiful and harmonious contrast with the browns, greens and yellows of the flanking cliffs.
      "It is simple," she said, "and it is magnificent! Look, Mr. Carnelian! It goes on forever. It is the world! So much of it. All virgin. Not even a wild beast to disturb its vast serenity. Imagine what Mr. Ruskin would say to all this. Switzerland cannot compare…" She was smiling now at Jherek. "Oh, Mr. Carnelian — it is Eden. It is!"
      "Hm," said Inspector Springer. "It's pretty enough scenery. But where's our little friends? You said —"
      "There!"
      Tiny figures could be seen on the beach. There was activity. They were at work.
      "Making something, by the look of it," murmured Inspector Springer. "But what?"
      "A boat, probably." She spread an arm. "You'll observe there is just a small area of beach — a sort of cove, really. The only way to continue is across the water. They will not turn back, for fear of our pursuit."
      "Aha!" Inspector Springer rubbed his hands together. "So we've got 'em, ripe. We'll nab 'em before they can ever —"
      "They are seven," she reminded him. "We are three. And one of us a woman."
      "Yes," he said. "That's true." He lifted his bowler between thumb and forefinger, scratching his head with his little finger. "But we're bigger. And we 'ave the advantage of surprise. Surprise is often worth more than any amount of 'eavy artillery…"
      "So I gather from the Boys' Own Paper ," she said sourly. "But I would give much, at this moment, for a single revolver."
      "Not allowed to carry them in the ordinary way, ma'am," he said portentously. "If we had received information…"
      "Oh, really, Inspector!" She was exasperated. "Mr. Carnelian? Have you any suggestions?"
      "We might frighten them off, Mrs. Underwood, long enough for us to regain the hamper."
      "And have them chase and overwhelm us? No. Captain Mubbers must be captured. With a hostage, we can hope to return to our camp and bargain with them. I had hoped to maintain civilized behaviour. However…"
      She inspected the cliff edge. "They descended here. We shall do the same."
      "I've never 'ad much of an 'ead for 'eights." Inspector Springer watched dubiously as she swung herself over the edge and, clinging to tufts of foliage and outcroppings of rock, began to climb downwards. Jherek, concerned for her safety, yet acknowledging her leadership, watched her carefully, then he followed her. Grumbling, Inspector Springer blundered in the rear. Little showers of stones and loose earth fell on Jherek's head.
      The cliff was not so steep as Jherek had imagined, and the descent became noticeably easier after the first thirty feet so that at times they could stand upright and walk.
      It seemed to Jherek that the Lat had seen them, for their activity became more frenetic. They were building a large raft, from the stems of the bigger ferns which grew near the water, using strips of their torn up pyjamas to hold the rather fleshy trunks together. Jherek knew little of such matters, but it seemed to him that the raft would become waterlogged and sink. He wondered if the Lat could swim. Certainly, he could not.
      "Ah! We are too late!" Mrs. Underwood began to let herself slide down the cliff, ripping her already tattered dress in several places, careless of modesty, as she saw Captain Mubbers order their hamper placed in the middle of the raft. The six Lat, under the command of their captain, lifted the raft and began to bear it towards the brackish waters of the creek.
      Jherek, anxious to remain close to her, copied her example, and was soon sliding without control after her.
      "Stop!" she cried, forgetting her plans to capture Captain Mubbers. "We wish to bargain!"
      Startled, perhaps, by the wild descent, the Lat began to run with their raft until they were up to their waists in water. Captain Mubbers jumped aboard. The raft tilted. He flung himself upon the hamper, to save it. The raft swung out at an angle and the Lat began to flounder after it, pulling themselves aboard as best they could, but two were left behind. Their shrieks could be heard by the human beings, who had almost reached the bottom of the cliff.
      "Ferkit!"
      "Kroofrudi!"
      "Nukgnursh!"
      Captain Mubbers and his men had left their paddles on the beach. With their hands, they tried to force the raft back towards the land.
      "Quickly!" cried Mrs. Underwood, a general still. "Seize them. There are our hostages!"
      The raft was now many yards from the shore, though Captain Mubbers seemed determined not to abandon his men.
      Jherek and Inspector Springer waded into the shallows and grabbed at the two Lat, who were now almost up to their necks in the waters of the creek. They splashed; they tried to kick, but were gradually herded back to where Mrs. Underwood, blazing and determined, awaited them (it was evident that they were much more nervous of Mrs. Underwood than of those they recognized as her minions).
      "Knuxfelp!" cried Captain Mubbers to his men. "Groo hrunt bookra!" His voice grew fainter.
      The two Lat reached the beach, dodged past Mrs. Underwood, and began to make for the cliff. They were in a state of panic.
      "Blett mibix gurp!" screamed one of the hysterical Lat as he fell over a stone. His comrade helped him to his feet, glaring behind him at the drifting raft. It was then that he suddenly transfixed — all three pupils focussed on the raft. He ignored Jherek and Inspector Springer as they ran up and laid hands on him. Jherek was the first to look back.
      There was something in the water, besides the raft. A glittering green, insect-like body, moving very rapidly.
      "Gawd!" breathed Inspector Springer. "It must be over six feet long!"
      Jherek glimpsed antennae, white-grey claws, spiny and savage, a rearing, curling tail, armed with brown tusks, paddle-shaped back legs, all leaping half-out of the thick waters, attacking the raft.
      There were two loud snapping noises, close together, and the front claws had each grasped a Lat. They struggled and screamed. The tusky tail swung up and round clubbing them unconscious. Then the gigantic scorpion (for it resembled nothing else) had returned to the depths, leaving debris behind, a bobbing wickerwork hamper, green pulpy logs to which the surviving Lat clung.
      Jherek saw a trail in the distant water, near the middle of the creek. He knew that this must be another such beast; he waded forward, offering his arms to the desperate Lat and shouting:
      "Oh, what a jolly adventure, after all! The Duke of Queens could not have arranged a more sensational display! Just think, Mrs. Underwood — none of this was engineered. It is all happening spontaneously — quite naturally. The scorpions! Aren't they superbly sinister, sweet sister of the sphinx!"
      "Mr. Carnelian!" Her voice was more than urgent. "Save yourself. More of the creatures come from all sides!"
      It was true. The surrounding water was thick with gigantic scorpions. They converged.
      Jherek drew Captain Mubbers and another Lat back to the shore. But a third was too slow. He had time to cry one last "Ferkit!" before the claws contracted and the great tail thumped and he became a subject of contention between the scorpion who had caught him and those of the scorpion's comrades who were disappointed at their own lack of success.
      Mrs. Underwood reached his side. There was alarm and disapproval on her features. "Mr. Carnelian — you frightened me so. But your bravery…"
      He raised both eyebrows.
      "It was superb," she said. Her voice had softened, but only momentarily. She remembered the hamper. It was the only thing left afloat, and apparently was without interest for the scorpions, who continued to dispute the ownership of the rapidly disintegrating corpse which occasionally emerged above the surface of the creek. There was foam, and there was blood.
      The hamper bobbed up and down in the eddy created by the warring water scorpions; it had almost reached the middle of the creek.
      "We must follow its drift," she said, "and hope to catch up with it later. Is there a current? Inward or outward? Where is the sea?"
      "We must watch," said Jherek. "With luck, we can plot its general course at least."
      Something fishy appeared above the surface near the hamper. A brown, glistening back, with fins, slid from view almost immediately.
      "The sharks," said Inspector Springer. "I told you about them."
      The hamper, which made this world a true Eden, rose under the back of at least one large finny creature. It turned over.
      "Oh! " cried Mrs. Underwood.
      They saw the hamper sink. They saw it rise again. The lid had swung open, but still it bobbed.
      Quite suddenly, Mrs. Underwood sat down on the shingle and began to cry. To Jherek, the sound diminished all those which still issued from that savage Lower Devonian creek. He went to her. He seated himself beside her and he put a slim arm around her lonely shoulders.
      It was then that a small power-boat, its motor whining, rounded the headland. It contained two black-clad figures, one seated at the wheel, the other standing up with a boathook in its hands. The craft made purposefully for the hamper.

      Mrs. Underwood stopped crying and began to blink.
      "It's getting to be like bloomin' Brighton," said Inspector Springer disapprovingly. "It seemed so unspoiled at first. What a racket that boat makes!"
      "They have saved the hamper," said she. The two figures were hauling it aboard. The boat was rocked by the squirming movements of the large fish. A few objects fell from the hamper. The two figures seemed abnormally anxious to recover the objects, taking great trouble to pursue and scoop up a tin mug which had gone adrift. This done, the boat headed in their direction.
      Jherek had seen nothing quite like the costumes of the newcomers; though they bore some resemblance to certain kinds of garments sometimes worn by space-travellers; they were all of a piece, shining and black, pouched and quilted, belted with broad bands containing what were probably tools. They had tight-fitting helmets of the same material, with goggles and ear-pieces, and there were black gauntlets on their hands.
      "I don't like the look of 'em," muttered the inspector. "Divers, ain't they?" He glanced back at the hills. "They could be up to no good. Why 'aven't they showed themselves before?"
      "Perhaps they didn't know we were here," said Jherek reasonably.
      "They're showing an uncommon interest in our 'amper. Could be the last we'll see of it."
      "They are almost upon us," said Mrs. Underwood quietly. "Let us not judge them, or their motives, until we have spoken. Let us hope they have some English, or at worst French."
      The boat's bottom crunched on the shingle; the engine was cut off; the two passengers disembarked, pulling the little vessel clear of the water, removing the hamper and carrying it between them to where Mrs. Underwood, Jherek Carnelian, Inspector Springer, Captain Mubbers and the three surviving Lat awaited them. Jherek noted that they were male and female, but of about the same height. Little of their faces could be seen above the high collars and below the goggles. When they were a couple of yards away they stopped and lowered the hamper. The female pushed back her goggles, revealing a heart-shaped face, large blue-grey eyes, as steady as Mrs. Underwood's, and a full mouth.
      It was unsurprising that Mrs. Underwood took her for French.
      " Je vous remercie bien …" she began.
      "Aha! " said the woman, without irony, "You are English, then."
      "Some of us are," said Inspector Springer heavily. "These little ones are Latvians."
      "I am Mrs. Persson. May I introduce Captain Bastable." The man saluted; he raised his own goggles. His face was tanned and handsome; his blue eyes were pale.
      "I am Mrs. Underwood. This is Mr. Carnelian, Inspector Springer, Captain Mubbers — I'm afraid I've no idea of the other names. They do not speak English. I believe they are space-travellers from the distant future. Are they not, Mr. Carnelian?"
      "The Lat," he said. "We were never entirely clear about their origins. But they did come in a space-ship. To the End of Time."
      "You are from the End of Time, sir?" Captain Bastable spoke in the light, clipped tones familiar to Jherek as being from the nineteenth century.
      "I am."
      "Jherek Carnelian, of course," said Mrs. Persson. "A friend of the Duke of Queens, are you not? And Lord Jagged?"
      "You know them?" He was delighted.
      "I know Lord Jagged slightly. Oh, I remember — you are in love with this lady, your — Amelia?"
      "My Amelia!"
      "I am not 'your Amelia', Mr. Carnelian," she said firmly. And she became suspicious of Mrs. Persson.
      Mrs. Persson was apologetic. "You are from 1896. I was forgetting. You will forgive me, I hope, Mrs. Underwood. I have heard so much about you. Your story is one of the greatest of our legends. I assure you, we are honoured to meet you in the flesh."
      Mrs. Underwood frowned, guessing sarcasm, but there was none.
      "You have heard —?"
      "We are only a few, we gossip. We exchange experiences and tales, as travellers will, on the rare occasions when we meet. And the Centre, of course, is where we all congregate."
      The young man laughed. "I don't think they're following you, Una."
      "I babble. You will be our guests?"
      "You have a machine here?" said Mrs. Underwood, hope dawning.
      "We have a base. You have not heard of it? You are not yet members of the Guild, then?"
      "Guild?" Mrs. Underwood drew her eyebrows together. "No."
      "The Guild of Temporal Adventurers," explained Captain Bastable. "The GTA?"
      "I have never heard of it."
      "Neither have I," said Jherek. "Why do you have an association?"
      Mrs. Persson shrugged. "Mainly so that we can exchange information. Information is of considerable help to those of us whom you could call 'professional time-travellers'." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "It is such a risky business, at best."
      "Indeed it is," he agreed. "We should love to accept your invitation. Should we not, Mrs. Underwood?"
      "Thank you, Mrs. Persson." Mrs. Underwood was still not at ease, but she had control of her manners.
      "We shall need to make two trips. I suggest, Oswald, that you take the Lat and Inspector Springer back with you and then return for us three."
      Captain Bastable nodded. "Better check the hamper first. Just to be on the safe side."
      "Of course. Would you like to look, Mrs. Underwood, and tell me if anything is missing?"
      "It does not matter. I really think —"
      "It is of utmost importance. If anything is lost from it, we shall search meticulously until it is found. We have instruments for detecting almost everything."
      She peered in. She sorted. "Everything here, I think."
      "Fine. Time merely tolerates us, you know. We must not offend."
      Captain Bastable, the Lat and Inspector Springer, were already in their boat. The motor whined again. The water foamed. They were away.
      Mrs. Persson watched it disappear before turning back to Jherek and Mrs. Underwood. "A lovely day. You have been here some while?"
      "About a week, I would say," Mrs. Underwood smoothed at her ruined dress.
      "So long as one avoids the water, it can be very beautiful. Many come to the Lower Devonian simply for the rest. If it were not for the eurypterids — the water scorpions — it would be perfect. Of all Palaeozoic periods, I find it the nicest. And, of course, it is a particularly friendly age, permitting more anachronism than most. This is your first visit?"