…pursuit. Every now and then, there was a loud twang and an arrow whizzed past my ears, whilst all my pursuers joined in shouting at the top of their harsh, shrill voices! Through the wood; through the wood! Beware of the huntsman in the green hood. With their shouts ringing louder and louder in my ears, I was fast coming to an end of my tether, when there was a blinding flash of jagged, blood-red lightning, and I found myself in the market square of a mediaeval town. The place was full of people, all wearing green costumes of the fashion of the fifteenth century, and on my appearance, they all began to dance. Not a word was spoken by anyone, and not a sound was heard beyond the incessant tapping of feet on the cobble-stones, which continued until, as if in obedience to some unheard command, everyone was suddenly…