 to the fore - so as
to get put in the picture, perhaps. Angels are as fond of that as a fire
company; look at the old masters. The well-chamber was dimly lighted by lamps;
the water was drawn with a windlass and chain, by monks, and poured into troughs
which delivered it into stone reservoirs outside, in the chapel - when there was
water to draw, I mean - and none but monks could enter the well-chamber. I
entered it, for I had temporary authority to do so, by courtesy of my
professional brother and subordinate. But he hadn't entered it himself. He did
everything by incantations; he never worked his intellect. If he had stepped in
there and used his eyes, instead of his disordered mind, he could have cured the
well by natural means, and then turned it into a miracle in the customary way;
but no, he was an old numskull; a magician who believed in his own magic; and no
magician can thrive who is handicapped with a superstition like that.
    I had an idea that the well had sprung a leak; that some of the wall stones
near the bottom had fallen in and exposed fissures that allowed the water to
escape. I measured the chain - 98 feet. Then I called in a couple of monks,
locked the door, took a candle, and made them lower me in the bucket. When the
chain was all paid out, the candle confirmed my suspicion; a considerable
section of the wall was gone, exposing a good big fissure.
    I almost regretted that my theory about the well's trouble was correct,
because I had another one that had a showy point or two about it for a miracle.
I remembered that in America, many centuries later, when an oil well ceased to
flow, they used to blast it out with a dynamite torpedo. If I should find this
well dry, and no explanation of it, I could astonish these people most nobly by
having a person of no especial value drop a dynamite bomb into it. It was my
idea to appoint Merlin. However, it was plain that there was no occasion for the
bomb. One cannot have everything the way he would like it. A man has no business
to be depressed by a disappointment, anyway; he ought to make up his mind to get
even. That is what I did. I said to myself, I am in no hurry, I can wait; that
bomb will come good, yet. And it did, too.
    When I was above ground again
