Part 5

"Jerbette's job was to paint a picture of the girl and a strange man, as described to him by Rombeau. Both wore clothes of a different type than any then known, and were in strange surroundings. The job done, Rombeau dismissed the painter. Later, Jerbette says he heard that the two lovers were surprised and murdered by Baron Morriere and his men, although the baron himself was killed in the fight.

"All this so intrigued Jerbette that he promptly painted his famous 'Elaine Duchard's Escape,' showing the lovers getting away from the baron's chateau."

Mark frowned. Shook his head.

"I see how you think it ties in, Professor," he admitted, "but there are too many loopholes."

The savant smiled.

"Yes, there are loopholes," he agreed, "but I do not think there are too many.

"The strange portrait Jerbette painted unfortunately never turned up again. It, of course, would be final proof. For if we found a picture of you--Mark Carter--and Elaine, in a twentieth century scene and wearing modern clothes, yet painted by Gustav Jerbette, there could be no doubt that your brain--cloaked in Jacques Rombeau's body--did the job.

"However, Jerbette does leave a very accurate description of the mirror Rombeau had made. And there is no doubt in my mind that it is the same one Vance gave to Elaine."

"But it's impossible!" Mark protested. "I couldn't have made a time mirror with the primitive equipment of that era--"

"I believe you could. Our work in discovering the formula for the one I made gave you a sufficient understanding of the device's fundamentals to construct a crude model."

"But a terrific bolt of electricity was required, professor. And there was no electrical equipment in those days. It's a complete anachronism."

* * * * *

"You think so?" The old scientist smiled. "Well, I do not wonder. You convinced Jerbette that Jacques Rombeau was stark, raving mad."

"You mean--"

"What other conclusion could any sane mortal draw from the actions of a man who insisted on defying God and the elements by exposing great circular trays of molten glass on top of the highest tower in all Paris during the worst electrical storm in years, until finally one of them was struck by lightning?"

Mark stared open-mouthed. Again he and the bewildered Elaine exchanged glances. And instinctively their hands reached out across the aisle, to join in love's tender clasp. The happiness of utter confidence and peace glowed in their eyes.

Then, still holding the girl's hand, Mark turned back to the professor. His brows knitted with incredulity.

"My God!" he exclaimed half to himself. "Could it be possible? Could I have done such a thing?"

Abruptly, he halted.

"No!" he clipped decisively. "There are other angles to be considered. Vance, for instance. You say he went with me through the time mirror--"

"Yes." The savant nodded slowly. "That, Mark, is the final proof. The evidence beyond contradiction. The thing that convinces me--"

"Proof? Evidence? I don't get it."

"You will recall, Mark, that Jerbette's memoirs said Baron Morriere was killed in that final battle with Jacques Rombeau?"

"Yes. Of course. What's that got to do with it?"

The scientist leveled a trembling finger at the window across the room, through which the sunlight still streamed. Never had he been more impressive. Solemn conviction gleamed in his blue eyes.

"Not five minutes before you and Elaine aroused from your state of suspended animation," he said, "Adrian Vance--still in a coma--sprang from his bed to that window and hurled himself to his death!"

Horror widened the two young people's eyes. Elaine's face was pale.

But understanding now was flooding through Mark. He nodded slowly.

"You can't change history!" he said.