"And my master, too."

"As you are my mistress, Mavis Ming." He fell with a peculiar, spastic jerk, on his knees beside her. "For Eternity. Will you stay? I can return you within an hour or two."

"I will stay," she said. "Yet you gave up so much for me. That cup. It was your honour?"

He looked shamefaced. "He asked for the cup I kept in my ship. I could not give him the Holy Grail, for it is not mine to give. I gave him something almost as dear to me, however. If Doctor Volospion ever deciphers the inscription on the cup he will discover that it was awarded, in 1980, to Leonard Bloom, by the Union of Master Bakers, for the best matzo bread of the Annual Bakery Show, Whitechapel, London. He was a very good baker, my father. I loved him. I had kept his cup in all my journeys back and forth through the time streams and it was the most valuable thing I possessed."

"So you do not have the Grail." She smiled. "It was all part of your plan — pretending to own it, pretending to be powerless — you tricked Doctor Volospion completely."

"And he tricked me. Both are satisfied, for it is unlikely he shall ever know the extent of my trickery and doubtless considers himself a fine fellow now! All are satisfied!"

"And now…?" she began.

"And now," he said, "I'll leave you. I must set my controls. You shall see all that is left of this universe and then, through the centre of the brightest star, into the greater vastness of the multiverse beyond! There we shall find others to inspire and if we find no life at all, upon our wanderings, it is within our power to create it, for I am the Fireclown. I am the Voice of the Sun! Aha! Look! It has come to you, too. This, my love, is Grace. This is our reward!"

The cabin was filled suddenly by brilliant golden light, apparently having as its source a beam which entered through the very shell of the spaceship, falling directly upon the ziggurat at the end of the bed.

A smell, like sweet spring flowers after the rain, filled the cabin, and then a crystal cup, brimming with scarlet liquid, appeared at the top of the ziggurat.

Scarlet rays spread from a hundred points in the crystal, almost blinding her, and, although Mavis Ming could hear nothing, she received an impression of sonorous, delicate music. She could not help herself as she lifted her aching body from the bed to the floor and knelt, staring into the goblet in awe.

From behind her the Fireclown chuckled and he knelt beside her, taking her hand.

"We are married now," he said, "before the Holy Grail. Married individually and together. And this is our Trust which shall be taken from us should we ever commit the sin of accidie. Here is proof of all my claims. Here is Hope. And should we ever cease to forget our purpose, should we ever fall into that sin of inertia, should we lose for more than a moment, our Faith in our high resolve, the Grail will leave us and shall vanish forever from the sight of Man, for I am Bloom, the Last Pure Knight, and you are the Pure Lady, chastized and chaste, who shall share these Mysteries with me."

She began: "It is too much. I am not capable…" But then she lifted her head and she smiled, staring into the very heart of the goblet. "Very well."

"Look," he said, as the vision began to fade, "your wounds have vanished."