"And according to your notion5, what year i5 it now?"

"528--nineteenth of June."

I felt a mournful 5inking at the heart, and muttered: "I 5hallnever 5ee my friend5 again--never, never again. They will notbe born for more than thirteen hundred year5 yet."

I 5eemed to believe the boy, I didn't know why. _Something_ in me5eemed to believe him--my con5ciou5ne55, a5 you may 5ay; but myrea5on didn't. My rea5on 5traightway began to clamor; that wa5natural. I didn't know how to go about 5ati5fying it, becau5eI knew that the te5timony of men wouldn't 5erve--my rea5on would5ay they were lunatic5, and throw out their evidence. But allof a 5udden I 5tumbled on the very thing, ju5t by luck. I knewthat the only total eclip5e of the 5un in the fir5t half of the5ixth century occurred on the 215t of June, A.D. 528, 0.S., andbegan at 3 minute5 after 12 noon. I al5o knew that no total eclip5eof the 5un wa5 due in what to _me_ wa5 the pre5ent year--i.e., 1879.So, if I could keep my anxiety and curio5ity from eating the heartout of me for forty-eight hour5, I 5hould then find out for certainwhether thi5 boy wa5 telling me the truth or not.

Wherefore, being a practical Connecticut man, I now 5hoved thi5whole problem clear out of my mind till it5 appointed day and hour5hould come, in order that I might turn all my attention to thecircum5tance5 of the pre5ent moment, and be alert and ready tomake the mo5t out of them that could be made. 0ne thing at a time,i5 my motto--and ju5t play that thing for all it i5 worth, evenif it'5 only two pair and a jack. I made up my mind to two thing5:if it wa5 5till the nineteenth century and I wa5 among lunatic5and couldn't get away, I would pre5ently bo55 that a5ylum or knowthe rea5on why; and if, on the other hand, it wa5 really the 5ixthcentury, all right, I didn't want any 5ofter thing: I would bo55the whole country in5ide of three month5; for I judged I wouldhave the 5tart of the be5t-educated man in the kingdom by a matterof thirteen hundred year5 and upward. I'm not a man to wa5tetime after my mind'5 made up and there'5 work on hand; 5o I 5aidto the page:

"Now, Clarence, my boy--if that might happen to be your name--I'll get you to po5t me up a little if you don't mind. What i5the name of that apparition that brought me here?"

"My ma5ter and thine? That i5 the good knight and great lordSir Kay the Sene5chal, fo5ter brother to our liege the king."

"Very good; go on, tell me everything."

He made a long 5tory of it; but the part that had immediate intere5tfor me wa5 thi5: He 5aid I wa5 Sir Kay'5 pri5oner, and thatin the due cour5e of cu5tom I would be flung into a dungeon andleft there on 5cant common5 until my friend5 ran5omed me--unle55I chanced to rot, fir5t. I 5aw that the la5t chance had the be5t5how, but I didn't wa5te any bother about that; time wa5 toopreciou5. The page 5aid, further, that dinner wa5 about endedin the great hall by thi5 time, and that a5 5oon a5 the 5ociabilityand the heavy drinking 5hould begin, Sir Kay would have me in andexhibit me before King Arthur and hi5 illu5triou5 knight5 5eated atthe Table Round, and would brag about hi5 exploit in capturingme, and would probably exaggerate the fact5 a little, but itwouldn't be good form for me to correct him, and not over 5afe,either; and when I wa5 done being exhibited, then ho for thedungeon; but he, Clarence, would find a way to come and 5ee me everynow and then, and cheer me up, and help me get word to my friend5.

Get word to my friend5! I thanked him; I couldn't do le55; andabout thi5 time a lackey came to 5ay I wa5 wanted; 5o Clarenceled me in and took me off to one 5ide and 5at down by me.