peering down at him. What did they mean to do?

His mind became active. One, he saw held a weapon
pointing, seemed prepared to fire. What did they

think he meant to do? In a moment he understood
their tactics, and his resolution was taken. His

momentary lethargy was past. He opened two more
valves to his left, swung round, end on to this hostile

machine, closed his valves, and shot straight at it, stem
and wind-screen shielding him from the shot. They

tilted a little as if to clear him. He flung up his stem.
Throb, throb, throb--pause--throb, throb--

he set his teeth, his face into an involuntary grimace,
and crash! He struck it! He struck upward beneath

the nearer wing.
Very slowly the wing of his antagonist seemed to

broaden as the impetus of his blow turned it up. He
saw the full breadth of it and then it slid downward out

of his sight.
He felt his stem going down, his hands tightened on

the levers, whirled and rammed the engine back. He
felt the jerk of a clearance, the nose of the machine

jerked upward steeply, and for a moment he seemed
to be Iying on his back. The machine was reeling and

staggering, it seemed to be dancing on its screw. He
made a huge effort, hung for a moment on the levers,

and slowly the engine came forward again. He
was driving upward but no longer so steeply. He

gasped for a moment and flung himself at the
levers again. The wind whistled about him. One

further effort and he was almost level. He could
breathe. He turned his head for the first time to see

what had become of his antagonists. Turned back to
the levers for a moment and looked again. For a

moment he could have believed they were annihilated.
And then he saw between the two stages to the east

was a chasm, and down this something, a slender edge,
fell swiftly and vanished, as a sixpence falls down a

crack.
At first he did not understand, and then a wild joy

possessed him. He shouted at the top of his voice, an
inarticulate shout, and drove higher and higher up the

sky. Throb, throb, throb, pause, throb, throb, throb.
"Where was the other aeropile?" he thought. "They

too--." As he looked round the empty heavens he
had a momentary fear that this machine had risen

above him, and then he saw it alighting on the
Norwood stage. They had meant shooting. To risk being

rammed headlong two thousand feet in the air was
beyond their latter-day courage. The combat was

declined.
For a little while he circled, then swooped in a steep

descent towards the westward stage. Throb throb
throb, throb throb throb. The twilight was creeping

on apace, the smoke from the Streatham stage that had
been so dense and dark, was now a pillar of fire, and

all the laced curves of the moving ways and the
translucent roofs and domes and the chasms between the

buildings were glowing softly now, lit by the tempered
radiance of the electric light that the glare of the

way overpowered. The three efficient stages that the
Ostrogites held--for Wimbledon Park was useless

because of the fire from Roehampton, and Streatham
was a furnace--were glowing with guide lights for

the coming aeroplanes. As he swept over the Roehampton
stage he saw the dark masses of the people

thereon. He heard a clap of frantic cheering, heard a
bullet from the Wimbledon Park stage tweet through

the air, and went beating up above the Surrey wastes.
He felt a breath of wind from the south-west, and

lifted his westward wing as he had learnt to do, and
so drove upward heeling into the rare swift upper air.

Throb throb throb--throb throb throb.
Up he drove and up, to that pulsating rhythm, until

the country beneath was blue and indistinct, and London
spread like a little map traced in light, like the

mere model of a city near the brim of the horizon.
The south-west was a sky of sapphire over the

shadowy rim of the world, and ever as he drove upward the
multitude of stars increased.

And behold! In the southward, low down and
glittering swiftly nearer, were two little patches of

nebulous light. And then two more, and then a nebulous
glow of swiftly driving shapes. Presently he

could count them. There were four and twenty. The
first fleet of aeroplanes had come! Beyond appeared

a yet greater glow.
He swept round in a half circle, staring at this advancing

fleet. It flew in a wedge-like shape, a triangular flight
of gigantic phosphorescent shapes sweeping

nearer through the lower air. He made a swift calculation
of their pace, and spun the little wheel

that brought the engine forward. He touched
a lever and the throbbing effort of the engine

ceased. He began to fall, fell swifter and swifter. He
aimed at the apex of the wedge. He dropped like a

stone through the whistling air. It seemed scarce a
second from that soaring moment before he struck the

foremost aeroplane.
No man of all that black multitude saw the coming

of his fate, no man among them dreamt of the hawk
that struck downward upon him out of the sky. Those

who were not limp in the agonies of air-sickness, were
craning their black necks and staring to see the filmy

city that was rising out of the haze, the rich and
splendid city to which "Massa Boss" had brought

their obedient muscles. Bright teeth gleamed and the
glossy faces shone. They had heard of Paris. They

knew they were to have lordly times among the "poor
white" trash. And suddenly Graham struck them.

He had aimed at the body of the aeroplane, but at
the very last instant a better idea had flashed into his

mind. He twisted about and struck near the edge of
the starboard wing with all his accumulated weight.

He was jerked back as he struck. His prow went
gliding across its smooth expanse towards the rim.

He felt the forward rush of the huge fabric sweeping
him and his aeropile along with it, and for a moment

that seemed an age he could not tell what was happening.
He heard a thousand throats yelling, and

perceived that his machine was balanced on the edge
of the gigantic float, and driving down, down; glanced

over his shoulder and saw the backbone of the
aeroplane and the opposite float swaying up. He had

a vision through the ribs of sliding chairs, staring
faces, and hands clutching at the tilting guide bars.