"They will be chasing us," cried the leader. "We
are scarcely halfway there yet. Cold as it is we must
hide here for a space--at least until it snows more
thickly again."
His teeth chattered in his head.
"Where are the markets? " asked Graham staring
out. "Where are all the people? "
The other made no answer.
"Look!" whispered Graham, crouched close, and
became very still.
The snow had suddenly become thick again, and
sliding with the whirling eddies out of the black pit
of the sky came something, vague and large and very
swift. It came down in a steep curve and swept round,
wide wings
extended and a trail of white condensing
steam behind it, rose with an easy
swiftness and went
gliding up the air, swept horizontally forward in a
wide curve, and vanished again in the steaming specks
of snow. And, through the ribs of its body, Graham
saw two little men, very minute and active, searching
the snowy areas about him, as it seemed to him, with
field glasses. For a second they were clear, then hazy
through a thick whirl of snow, then small and distant,
and in a minute they were gone.
"Now!" cried his
companion. "Come!"
He pulled Graham's
sleeve, and incontinently the
two were
runningheadlong down the arcade of ironwork
beneath the wind-wheels. Graham,
runningblindly, collided with his leader, who had turned back
on him suddenly. He found himself within a dozen
yards of a black chasm. It
extended as far as he
could see right and left. It seemed to cut off their
progress in either direction.
"Do as I do," whispered his guide. He lay down
and crawled to the edge,
thrust his head over and
twisted until one leg hung. He seemed to feel for
something with his foot, found it, and went sliding
over the edge into the gulf. His head reappeared.
"It is a ledge," he whispered. "In the dark all the
way along. Do as I did."
Graham hesitated, went down upon all fours,
crawled to the edge, and peered into a velvety blackness.
For a
sickly moment he had courage neither
to go on nor
retreat, then he sat and hung his leg
down, felt his guide's hands pulling at him, had a
horrible
sensation of sliding over the edge into the
unfathomable, splashed, and felt himself in a slushy
gutter, impenetrably dark.
"This way," whispered the voice, and he began
crawling along the
gutter through the trickling thaw,
pressing himself against the wall. They continued
along it for some minutes. He seemed to pass through
a hundred stages of
misery, to pass minute after minute
through a hundred degrees of cold, damp, and exhaustion.
In a little while he ceased to feel his hands and
feet.
The
gutter sloped
downwards. He observed that
they were now many feet below the edge of the buildings.
Rows of spectral white shapes like the ghosts
of blind-drawn windows rose above them. They came
to the end of a cable fastened above one of these white
windows, dimly
visible and dropping into impenetrable
shadows. Suddenly his hand came against his guide's.
"Still!" whispered the latter very softly.
He looked up with a start and saw the huge wings
of the flying machine gliding slowly and noiselessly
overhead athwart the broad band of snow-flecked grey-blue
sky. In a moment it was
hidden again.
"Keep still; they were just turning."
For
awhile both were
motionless, then Graham's
companion stood up, and reaching towards the fastenings
of the cable fumbled with some indistinct tackle.
"What is that? " asked Graham.
The only answer was a faint cry. The man crouched
motionless. Graham peered and saw his face dimly.
He was staring down the long
ribbon of sky, and
Graham, following his eyes, saw the flying machine
small and faint and
remote. Then he saw that the
wings spread on either side, that it headed towards
them, that every moment it grew larger. It was following
the edge of the chasm towards them.
The man's movements became convulsive. He
thrust two cross bars into Graham's hand. Graham
could not see them, he ascertained their form by feeling.
They were slung by thin cords to the cable. On
the cord were hand grips of some soft
elastic substance.
"Put the cross between your legs," whispered
the guide hysterically, "and grip the holdfasts.
Grip
tightly, grip!"
Graham did as he was told.
"Jump," said the voice. "In heaven's name,
jump!"
For one momentous second Graham could not
speak. He was glad afterwards that darkness hid his
face. He said nothing. He began to tremble
violently.
He looked sideways at the swift shadow that
swallowed up the sky as it rushed upon him.
"Jump! Jump--in God's name! Or they will have
us," cried Graham's guide, and in the
violence of his
passion
thrust him forward.
Graham tottered convulsively, gave a sobbing cry,
a cry in spite of himself, and then, as the flying
machine swept over them, fell forward into the pit of
that darkness, seated on the cross wood and holding
the ropes with the
clutch of death. Something
cracked, something rapped smartly against a wall.
He heard the pulley of the
cradle hum on its rope.
He heard the aeronauts shout. He felt a pair of knees
digging into his back.... He was s
weepingheadlong through the air, falling through the air. All
his strength was in his hands. He would have
screamed but he had no
breath.
He shot into a blinding light that made him grip
the tighter. He recognised the great passage with
the
running ways, the
hanging lights and interlacing
girders. They rushed
upward and by him. He had
a
momentaryimpression of a great
circular aperture
yawning to
swallow him up.
He was in the dark again, falling, falling, gripping
with aching hands, and behold! a clap of sound, a
burst of light, and he was in a
brightly lit hall with a
roaring
multitude of people beneath his feet. The
people! His people! A proscenium, a stage rushed
up towards him, and his cable swept down to a
circularaperture to the right of this. He felt he was travelling
slower, and suddenly very much slower. He
distinguished shouts of "Saved! The Master. He is
safe!" The stage rushed up towards him with rapidly
diminishing
swiftness. Then--.
He heard the man clinging behind him shout as if
suddenly terrified, and this shout was echoed by a
shout from below. He felt that he was no longer
gliding along the cable but falling with it. There was
a
tumult of yells, screams and cries. He felt something
soft against his
extended hand, and the impact
of a broken fall quivering through his arm. . .
He wanted to be still and the people were lifting
him. He believed afterwards he was carried to the
platform and given some drink, but he was never sure.
He did not notice what became of his guide. When
his mind was clear again he was on his feet; eager
hands were assisting him to stand. He was in a
big alcove, occupying the position that in his previous
experience had been
devoted to the lower boxes. If
this was indeed a theatre.
A
mightytumult was in his ears, a thunderous roar,
the shouting of a
countlessmultitude." It is the
Sleeper! The Sleeper is with us!"
"The Sleeper is with us! The Master--the
Owner! The Master is with us. He is safe."
Graham had a surging
vision of a great hall
crowdedwith people. He saw no individuals, he was conscious
of a froth of pink faces, of waving arms and
garments,
he felt the occult influence of a vast crowd pouring
over him, buoying him up. There were balconies,
galleries, great archways giving
remoter perspectives,
and everywhere people, a vast arena of people, densely
packed and cheering. Across the nearer space lay
the collapsed cable like a huge snake. It had been
cut by the men of the flying machine at its upper end,
and had crumpled down into the hall. Men seemed
to be hauling this out of the way. But the whole
effect was vague, the very buildings throbbed and
leapt with the roar of the voices.
He stood unsteadily and looked at those about him.
Someone supported him by one arm. "Let me go
into a little room," he said,
weeping; "a little room,"
and could say no more. A man in black stepped forward,
took his disengaged arm. He was aware of
officious men
opening a door before him. Someone
guided him to a seat. He staggered. He sat down
heavily and covered his face with his hands; he was
trembling
violently, his
nervous control was at an end.
He was relieved of his cloak, he could not remember
how; his
purple hose he saw were black with wet.
People were
running about him, things were happening,
but for some time he gave no heed to them.
He had escaped. A
myriad of cries told him that.
He was safe. These were the people who were on his
side. For a space he sobbed for
breath, and then he
sat still with his face covered. The air was full of
the shouting of
innumerable men.
CHAPTER IX
THE PEOPLE MARCH
He became aware of someone urging a glass of clear
fluid upon his attention, looked up and discovered this
was a dark young man in a yellow
garment. He took
the dose
forthwith, and in a moment he was glowing.
A tall man in a black robe stood by his shoulder, and
pointed to the half open door into the hall. This man
was shouting close to his ear and yet what was said
was indistinct because of the
tremendousuproar from
the great theatre. Behind the man was a girl in a
silvery grey robe, whom Graham, even in this confusion,
perceived to be beautiful. Her dark eyes, full
of wonder and curiosity,-were fixed on him, her lips
trembled apart. A
partially opened door gave a
glimpse of the
crowded hall, and admitted a vast
uneven
tumult, a hammering, clapping and shouting
that died away and began again, and rose to a thunderous
pitch, and so continued intermittently all the time