Prudent. [ Sholmes gives an approving nod. ] We shall only bring those required, by your leave.

[ He looks around again with a fresh wave of awe. What if this same place was found by a farmer in the hills of Hampshire? In a week's time, a flood of vacationing Londoners would be sliding down the chute to torment poor Moonlight and their brethren. Tourism: a different kind of nightmare.

He can't help but laugh to himself as he pops open his bag again. With one of his last empty vials, he bows to take a sample of golden spring water. ]

Another question, if you would indulge me: is there anything else you can tell us about the Noctaere?