Even common things may serve as universal symbols. A wallet could then represent wealth and finances, a watch could represent time itself. If Mortimer had drowned in the Potomac he would have lost more than a wallet and a watch. Who is the mysterious figure that returned his personal items. A friendly monk or friar? In Daniel's febrile imagination at least his benefactor was a very way-out character indeed.

1. From THE STRANGE HISTORY OF DANIEL MORTIMER
At that very moment I sensed a sharp pain in the back of my neck. I felt
myself being pulled back through time. In the space of a few moments all that I
had experienced in my strange vision flashed before me in reverse sequence,
the forum, the colonnade, the canyon, the chasm, the desert, the lush forests
and fairy castles. The pain grew more intense, for it was as though a bony
hand had clasped me by the neck. Then the evil stench of the loathsome sea
almost stifled me as the horrors of that hideous sight appeared again for a
mercifully brief moment before I was braced by the sudden sensation of cold
water over all my body.
I looked up into the clear night sky. The stars seemed to be so near, like
specks of silver I could sift through my fingers. With what awe I contemplated
the greatness of the universe and the smallness of man. Only the divine spirit
implanted in the human soul was not subject to the laws of physics and
chemistry, which governed all else. It was as though I could hear Rachel say:
"Many waters cannot quench love."
I was conscious that I was being ferried back to the riverside. When l fully
came to, I found myself lying on a mossy slope overlooking the Potomac. I
enjoyed the rich aroma of decaying leaves. I must have fallen into the river, I
thought.
Something about a chase through bushes was coming back to me..
"You forgot something, Daniel--your wallet."
I could hardly believe my ears.
"I took the liberty of paying the waiter for the meal and the wine. I think this
is yours too. You left it in a bar as a security, remember? Jake asked me to
return it to you.”
"Thank you," I said, totally nonplussed, "Thank you very much indeed."
I was still trying to figure everything out in my mind. The voice of rationalism
in me chortled triumphantly:
"Danny, you superstitious fool! Fancy just running out of the restaurant like
that without paying, then running through the streets like a mad thing, then
ordering a drink with only a dime in your pocket, failing to find your way back
to the restaurant and then, to top it all, running off like a startled hare and
jumping into the Potomac. And all because you saw someone in a clerical
habit. There are monks and friars, you know! Had you forgotten that there are
still people around with enough true Christian charity to make them chase
after nuts like you and return things you have left in the most unearthly
places? This guy even dived into the Potomac after you and saved your life.

2. Shame on you. As your father always said, ‘A little less Edgar Allan Poe and a
little more common sense. You're so heavenly-minded, you're no earthly good.’”
Yet there was one thing my rational self could not explain. The hand that
dangled my watch in front of me had no skin on it!
THE MOST WAY-OUT CHARACTER I HAVE EVER MET
One part of me suspected it all along. Incidentally, I happened to notice that
between the knuckles and the joint of his middle finger-bone a gold ring
holding inlaid ruby and bearing the letter "H" loosely sat. Having a strong sense
of occasion, I was overcome though undaunted.
”Sir...er...it was very foolish of me running away from you like that and
fallinto
the river."
"Perhaps, but then your behavior was quite typical of your kind. Those who
run away from me quite often precipitate their untimely deaths. Besides, if I'm
really intent on catching someone, any attempt to escape will not avail.
"Would it be proper to ask if... "
"I derive any pleasure from hunting mortals? No, I even feel a certain
affection
for you. I like people to face up to me, to look me in the face, so to speak. I like
to be treated as an equal, that's all. There's no need for superstitious dread,
that kind of thing. That's silly. I just expect to receive the respect that attaches
to my office. But there's one thing I can't put up with, though; that's when
folks snub me as though I didn't count or even exist. Take a case just the other
day—One of my detractors was walking down the street with his nose in the
air, as usual. I must confess to feeling a tinge of satisfaction, hardly
schadenfreude, when the mandate was given to settle up accounts. I saw to it
that a manhole cover was removed just at the right--or wrong--moment."
"You need a mandate?"
"Of course. I'm in the executive rather than the legislative branch, you know.
People go to extremes. Either I don't exist or I'm God! No, I can't always be
certain until the last moment whether to go through with a job, whether my
services will be required."
"I don't quite follow."
"Don't worry, you will sooner or later. Now take yourself as an example. You
remember the flight to Boston, don't you? Rather bumpy, wouldn't you say?"

3. "I most certainly would! Hey, you..."
"Thought your moment had come, eh?"
"To be honest, I really thought it had."
"This may surprise you. I wasn't too sure, either--or rather I mistakenly
concluded that the plane would disintegrate and all on board would die. No,
one can never be too sure about these things. It's only a hunch, but your
prayer with its mention of Hezekiah may well have had something to do with it.
Honest! God is always open to suggestions. Remember the story of Jonah? I
sometimes even get a mandate to save people from themselves. You know the
story about Clive of India?"
"You mean, everything has its appointed term?"
"You could put it like that. But why ask me? You've read the Book of
revelation,
I suppose.
"You mean the part where it says: 'Vanity of Vanity, saith the preacher, 'all is
vanity.' Rather depressing, to say the least.
"Actually you quoted from Ecclesiastes. If you mean sombre, I agree. Men
andwomen must simply come to accept the vanity of life before they can
appreciate it’s true value. That's where I come in. If people took more account
of me, they would surely take life and its unique opportunities that much more
serious1y. Some, of course, go to the other extreme and fall in love with me. It
can't be my looks that does it. In any case, I'm not what you'd describe as an
ideal partner, the marrying kind, whatever. I'm too career-minded for that, and
when would I be at home? No, seriously, I'll be along soon enough. People
should be getting on with the business of living. Then there are those who
describe me as the enemy of mankind. It depends how you want to look at
things. It's men who design atom bombs, not the likes of me. If they're looking
for the enemy of mankind, it's not me they're after, it's the Thief."
"The Thief?"
"Yes, the Thief of Time, man's most precious commodity, and the one that's
most often squandered. If you have time, you'll get your chances to make
money, if it's money you're after. Having money doesn't always give you time,
not even a second. Take it how you will. Some millionaires I've known would
have given up all their substance just for another day. Of course they would. If
they couldn't tell a bargain when they saw one, they wouldn't have become
millionaires. not even all the funds of the IMF can redeem a lost hour."
"Funny, I'm sure I've heard someone say something like that before. Yes, it
was during one of those five-minute religious slots at breakfast-time, I think."
"Quite possibly. There's little that I can tell you that you couldn't work out for
yourself if you reflect a little and take time to study the three books...

4. "The what? The Three Books, did you say? Which books?"
"First the Book of Divine Revelation--the Bible, for short, without making
allowances for such variations as the Koran. Then the Book of Nature. Thirdly,
the Book of History."
"I get your meaning as far as the first two books were concerned--more or
less -but I'm not quite sure about this 'Book of History.' That's new."
"In geometry a line is defined by two points, from the beginning-point and
the end-point. A lifetime runs between birth and death. Cities, nations, even
stars and planets exist in the space between two points."
"That's all very abstract, if you'll allow me to say. I never took History at
school. I was put off by learning all those dates. History must be interesting,
though, once you get into it. A funny feeling came over me when I was in Ford's
Theatre. Somehow, it all came alive--History I mean. By the way, was it...?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it was. You must forgive me chuckling like that. I had no
intention of scaring anybody or seeming superior. It's just that my sense of
humor sometimes gets the better of me, especially when people glibly explain
everything away in terms of statistics. They get so emphatic and pompous
about it, too. They don't seem to realize that their talk about 'luck,' 'chance'
and 'coincidence' quite honestly adds up to a confession of ignorance, when
you think about it.
"And it was you the time..."
"Quite in the line of duty, I assure you. I can always be found rubbing
shoulders with the crowd, if you really look. People don't usually notice I'm
about. On the whole a good thing, I suppose. Far be it from me to distract
people from attending to their daily affairs. Life must go on."
"Talking of history, were the deaths of Kennedy and Lincoln related in some
way?"
"As a matter of policy I steer clear of discussing matters in any way
connected with politics, but I don't wish to dodge the question entirely. Why
not? Everything is, ultimately. Read what history has indelibly written for all
those with eyes to see. Take the years 1066 and l660."
"Er--the Norman Conquest and the Restoration of Charles II? Yes. But I don't
quite see the connection. Was it got something to do with the fact that England
has never been successfully invaded since 1066?"
"Partly. You will agree that it is from the year 1066 that we number the kings
and queens of England. For example, we do not refer to Edward the Confessor
as Edward I."
"Yes, as you say, we number--he came before 1066. I get your point, but,
with
all respect, does that matter?"

5. "What was restored in 1660?"
"The monarchy, I suppose."
"And who had overthrown the monarchy, temporarily at least?"
"Oliver Cromwell."
"How long for?"
"England was without a kin8 from 1649 until 1660."
"Which is 1066--somewhat rearranged. No, Cromwell interrupted the line of
monarchs founded by the Conqueror, but he did not succeed in terminating it.
Even so, he did point forward to a new era. Like Julius Caesar he was wise
enough to repudiate the kingly crown. Perhaps he had set his eyes on a yet
greater object. Kings might bow to Caesar, but never Caesar to a king."
"But that was two thousand years ago!"
"Two thousand years! What's that? True, a long time for mortals. You see, the
same point that marks an end also marks a beginning. Underlying all things is
continuity. Why is the past relevant if it can never be recalled? Only because it
is part of a continuous totality to which the present belongs. Let me be precise.
When did the Roman Empire end? When Ravenna became the capital of the
Western Empire? Or with the demise of Romulus Augustulus? With the fall of
Constantinople? Has it ever come to an end? Did not the Czars claim their title
from the Byzantine emperors? As far as Cromwell was concerned, we see in
him the beginning of a new line, a new page perhaps~--but not of a new book.
He was the first Caesar of the Latter Age, an age whose imminent end will bring
with it at least the close of a chapter. Cromwell was born in 1599. "
"Why is that so significant? If he was going to be born, it had to be in some
year, didn't it?"
"Wait! Napoleon and Wellington were born in 1769, within three months of
each other. "
"If I follow your meaning, these Caesars of the latter age as you call them,
tend
to get born in a year ending with a '9.' What about Hitler?"
"1889."
"Stalin?"
"1879. "
"Are all these Caesars dictators?" I asked, pointing at the Lincoln Memorial.
"By no means. 1809."
Having read up on the life of Washington catch him out.
"What about Washington, then?" I asked.
"Born in 1732 on the 22nd of February."*(Death seems to be suffering from a
slip of memory here. The actual date was the 17th or February 1712 -
Catchpole)

6. "That would be an exception to the rule then, would it?"
"Don't forget that a line has an end as well as a beginning. Washington died
in 1799, the year before this city bearing his name was founded. There will
alwaysbe exceptions, of course. Take Franco. You yourself said they tend to be
bornin years ending in '9.' It's a theory, after all. Don't forget I've been around
for so much longer than any of your historians, and things tend to leave an
impression on the mind. Your grandfather may have seen Halley's comet when
it appeared in 1910. I can remember it in 1066 and long before."
"I can't pass off these things as 'coincidence' any more, but I still find it hard
to lump Lincoln1n and Napoleon together under the heading of 'Caesar.'"
"I find no particular difficu1ty myself, but then, consider me. Am I not the
merciless tyrant that some would have me be--and the great leveler, the
ultimate democrat, the impartial judge of all, no matter their social rating? Who
hut I preaches so eloquently the brotherhood of man, if men had ears to hear?
Is there freedom without death? Excuse my going on like this. I am so terribly
misunderstood. If I don't put in a good word for myself, who else will? How
would you like chasing around--like this?" he said as he rattled his hones more
in sorrow than anger.
"I've got tales to tell, though," he continued. "I'll never forget the night
Napoleon and I met face to face."
"On the Isle of St. Helena?" I inquired.
"St. Helena? Goodness no!"
"At Waterloo then?"
"Hardly."
"There's only Moscow left."
"Aye, at Moscow! He was looking through a window at the embers of Moscow.
Suddenly the panes frosted over. He looked round. A brave man, Napoleon. He
didn't flinch when he saw my face."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing. What could he? We both nodded in a kind of mutual recognition
then he turned to the window. He looked sad but not frightened.'
"Why do you think that was?"
"People are frightened when they fear for their own physical welfare. As I
said, Napoleon was a brave man. No, he understood the political and strategic
significance of our encounter. He perceived what the frost on the windowpane
and the ashes of Moscow meant for his political ambitions.
"So it's all - err - - programmed?"
"You could put it like that. Though hardly a poet myself, I've done my share
of inspiring poets to write. Only God and Love share the same class. I would
couch what you are trying to say in more poetic terms. For everything there is a

7. season, a time to be born, and a time to die. I'm not very original, I'm afraid,
but I can make a pertinent quotation. That’s from Ecclesiastes too, by the way:
Much as I would like to continue chatting like this, boy, duty calls.
"I very much appreciate your giving up so much of your valuable time to this-
- er--interview. There's so much else I would have liked to ask you about dates
and numbers."
"Indeed, much instruction lies in numbers, much wisdom in their
interpretation, yet one kind of numbering excels all other kinds in importance."
"Which?" I cried.
"Psalm 90, verse 12. Really must be getting along.”
To the click of his finger-bones, he summoned his pale steed. This appeared
as a wandering star. It grew in size until it assumed the shape of a horse
descending from the night sky. Then it came to rest beside his master.
Having mounted his steed, he turned round, allowing me to catch a glimpse of
his face. I shall not attempt to describe it. Earlier it would have struck terror
into me, that is all I can say. As horse and rider ascended into the starry sky,
he turned to me a last time
"Au revoir!" I shouted.
"Au revoir!" he answered, "Auf Wiedersehen! Hasta la vista! See you!"
I required no further proof that he was a master of all living tongues, not to
mention a few dead ones, for good measure.
"When?" I asked. The words had no sooner parted from my lips than I
realized the folly of my question.
"When the lease expires. You have had one extension, so use well the time
that remains. When I return, it won't be for a chat."
The rider and his pale horse rose higher and higher till all I could see of them
was a point of light that moved like a roving planet among the stars. Suddenly I
felt dizzy. I slumped to the mossy ground and fell into a deep sleep. It had been
a very eventful and tiring day.
If my readers expect any further accounts of strange encounters, I must
disappoint them. The end of my tale will come as an anticlimax perhaps. When
I came round next morning I found myself laid out on a hospital bed. A pretty
nurse was at my bedside with a syringe in her hand. When I opened my eyes
and looked at her, she said:
"So you are awake at last. You're something of a curiosity around these
parts."
A doctor came in and inspected my eyes with an ophthalmoscope.
"You're lucky to be alive," he commented. "When they picked you up, they
first took you for dead: You had us fooled. You must have been in some deep
trance state. Do you do yoga? Anyway, welcome back to life!"

8. Next day I was asked to write a report of the incidents leading to my being
found on the bank of the Potomac. Before my "return to life" the police were
going to treat me as a case of homicide. Even now the file had not been closed.
They had not been able to work out how my clothes were drenched through
though my wallet remained dry. My report was quite candid, making reference
to an unnamed person wearing a hood and clerical habit. Alluding to his
skeletal appearance, I referred to "the signs of severe malnutrition" he evinced,
"his skinny, even skinless fingers.
Shortly after I had handed in the report, they transferred me to another
department of the hospital, where I was placed under the supervision of a team
of neurologists and psychologists. I was required to do a number of
psychological tests--you know, with ink blotches and that kind of thing. I had
to repeat my account of what I had experienced in and around the Potomac.
They would buy the dream but not the conversation with Death. That bore "the
traits of a conscious effort of allegorization." Then the tests were discontinued
and I was left "to rest" for a few days. Eventually a young doctor from London
entered the room. He gave every impression of wanting to help a fellow-Brit in
trouble. I seized on this heaven-sent opportunity. I told him everything. He paid
close attention to every word I said., Now and again he made a nod or other
gesture of sympathy. He asked intelligent questions. A great burden was lifted
when he expressed his belief that modern science could not explain everything
and added that even the Russians were taking a close interest in
parapsychology and telepathy. He gave me an injection, saying it would help
me to feel better. I became very drowsy afterwards. It was not only the drug
that gave me a wonderful feeling of well-being. The consciousness that at least
a compatriot had given me a fair hearing greatly contributed to my sense of
euphoria. I could hear them talking about me. They must have assumed that I
was asleep. I can distinctly remember his words to the nurse:
"Poor chap! Stark raving bonkers, of course!"