THE HALL OF THE ATLAS
From the moment when the tailor had his to the moment when Graham himself in the lift, was five minutes. As yet the of his of sleep about him, as yet the of his being alive at all in this age touched with wonder, with a of the irrational, with something of the quality of a dream. He was still detached, an spectator, still but in life. What he had seen, and the last tumult, in the setting of the balcony, had a turn, like a thing from the box of a theatre. "I don't understand," he said. "What was the trouble? My mind is in a whirl. Why were they shouting? What is the danger?"
"We have our troubles," said Howard. His Graham's enquiry. "This is a time of unrest. And, in fact, your appearance, your just now, has a of connexion—"
He spoke jerkily, like a man not sure of his breathing. He stopped abruptly.
"I don't understand," said Graham.
"It will be later," said Howard.
He upward, as though he the progress of the slow.
"I shall better, no doubt, when I have my way about a little," said Graham puzzled. "It will be—it is to be perplexing. At present it is all so strange. Anything possible. Anything. In the even. Your counting, I understand, is different."
The stopped, and they out into a narrow but very long passage high walls, along which ran an number of and big cables.
"What a place this is!" said Graham. "Is it all one building? What place is it?"
"This is one of the city for public services. Light and so forth."
"Was it a social trouble—that—in the great place? How are you governed? Have you still a police?"
"Several," said Howard.
"Several?"
"About fourteen."
"I don't understand."
"Very not. Our social order will very to you. To tell you the truth, I don't it myself very clearly. Nobody does. You will, perhaps—bye and bye. We have to go to the Council."
Graham's attention was the urgent of his and the people in the passages and they were traversing. For a moment his mind would be upon Howard and the he made, and then he would the in response to some impression. Along the passages, in the halls, the people to be men in the red uniform. The that had been so in the of moving did not appear. Invariably these men looked at him, and him and Howard as they passed.
He had a clear of entering a long corridor, and there were a number of girls on low seats, as though in a class. He saw no teacher, but only a from which he a voice proceeded. The girls him and his conductor, he thought, with and astonishment. But he was on he a clear idea of the gathering. He they Howard and not himself, and that they who he was. This Howard, it seemed, was a person of importance. But then he was also Graham's guardian. That was odd.
There came a passage in twilight, and into this passage a so that he see the and of people going to and thereon, but no more of them. Then of and of passers-by to after the two of them with their red-clad guard.
The of the he had taken was only temporary. He was by this haste. He asked Howard to his speed. Presently he was in a that had a window upon the great space, but this was and did not open, and they were too high for him to see the moving below. But he saw people going to and along and along strange, frail-looking bridges.
Thence they passed across the and at a above it. They by means of a narrow closed in with glass, so clear that it him to it. The of it also was of glass. From his memory of the New Quay and Boscastle, so in time, and so in his experience, it to him that they must be near four hundred above the moving ways. He stopped, looked his upon the and red multitudes, minute and foreshortened, and still the little below, a little toy balcony, it seemed, where he had so been standing. A thin and the of the of light everything. A man seated in a little by from some point still higher than the little narrow bridge, a as almost as if he were falling. Graham stopped to watch this below, and then his to the struggle.
Along one of the a thick of red spots. This up into as it approached the balcony, and the slower the on the area. These men in red appeared to be with or truncheons; they to be and thrusting. A great shouting, of wrath, screaming, out and came up to Graham, and thin. "Go on," Howard, hands on him.
Another man a cable. Graham up to see he came, and through the and the network of and girders, like the of windmills, and them of a and sky. Then Howard had him across the bridge, and he was in a little narrow passage with patterns.
"I want to see more of that," Graham, resisting.
"No, no," Howard, still his arm. "This way. You must go this way." And the men in red them to his orders.
Some in a wasp-like of black and yellow appeared the passage, and one to up a that had a door to Graham, and the way through it. Graham himself in a the end of a great chamber. The in black and yellow this, up a second and waiting.
This place had the of an ante-room. He saw a number of people in the space, and at the opposite end a large and at the top of a of steps, but a of some still larger beyond. He white men in red and other in black and yellow about those portals.
As they the he a from below, "The Sleeper," and was aware of a of heads, a of observation. They entered another little passage in the of this ante-chamber, and then he himself on an iron-railed of metal that passed the of the great he had already through the curtains. He entered the place at the corner, so that he the of its proportions. The black in the like a well-trained servant, and closed the him.
Compared with any of the places Graham had thus far, this second appeared to be with richness. On a at the end, and more than any other object, was a white of Atlas, and strenuous, the upon his shoulders. It was the thing to his attention, it was so vast, so and real, so white and simple. Save for this and for a in the centre, the wide of the place was a vacancy. The was in the of the area; it would have looked a of metal had it not been for the group of seven men who about a table on it, and gave an of its proportions. They were all in white robes, they to have that moment from their seats, and they were Graham steadfastly. At the end of the table he the of some appliances.
Howard him along the end until they were opposite this figure. Then he stopped. The two men in red who had them into the came and on either hand of Graham.
"You must here," Howard, "for a moments," and, without waiting for a reply, away along the gallery.
"But, why—?" Graham.
He moved as if to Howard, and his path by one of the men in red. "You have to wait here, Sire," said the man in red.
"Why?"
"Orders, Sire."
"Whose orders?"
"Our orders, Sire."
Graham looked his exasperation.
"What place is this?" he said presently. "Who are those men?"
"They are the of the Council, Sire."
"What Council?"
"The Council."
"Oh!" said Graham, and after an attempt at the other man, to the and at the men in white, who him and together.
The Council? He there were now eight, though how the had he had not observed. They no of greeting; they him as in the nineteenth century a group of men might have in the a that had into view. What it be that there, that little of men the white Atlas, from every in this spaciousness? And why should he be to them, and be looked at and spoken of inaudibly? Howard appeared beneath, walking across the them. As he near he and performed movements, of a nature. Then he the steps of the dais, and by the at the end of the table.
Graham that visible conversation. Occasionally, one of the white-robed men would him. He his ears in vain. The of two of the speakers animated. He from them to the of his attendants…. When he looked again Howard was his hands and moving his like a man who protests. He was interrupted, it seemed, by one of the white-robed men the table.
The an time to Graham's sense. His rose to the still at the Council sat. Thence they to the of the hall. It was in long painted panels of a quasi-Japanese type, many of them very beautiful. These panels were in a great and of dark metal, which passed into the of the galleries, and the great lines of the interior. The of these panels the white that in the centre of the scheme. Graham's came to the Council, and Howard was the steps. As he nearer his be distinguished, and Graham saw that he was and out his cheeks. His was still when presently he along the gallery.
"This way," he said concisely, and they on in to a little door that opened at their approach. The two men in red stopped on either of this door. Howard and Graham passed in, and Graham, back, saw the white-robed Council still in a close group and looking at him. Then the door closed him with a thud, and for the time since his he was in silence. The floor, even, was noiseless to his feet.
Howard opened another door, and they were in the of two in white and green. "What Council was that?" Graham. "What were they discussing? What have they to do with me?" Howard closed the door carefully, a sigh, and said something in an undertone. He walked across the room and turned, out his again. "Ugh!" he grunted, a man relieved.
Graham him.
"You must understand," Howard abruptly, Graham's eyes, "that our social order is very complex. A explanation, a would give you false impressions. As a of fact—it is a case of partly—your small fortune, and the of your Warming which was left to you—and other beginnings—have very considerable. And in other that will be hard for you to understand, you have a person of significance—of very significance—involved in the world's affairs."
He stopped.
"Yes?" said Graham.
"We have social troubles."
"Yes?"
"Things have come to such a pass that, in fact, it is to you here."
"Keep me prisoner!" Graham.
"Well—to ask you to keep in seclusion."
Graham on him. "This is strange!" he said.
"No will be done you."
"No harm!"
"But you must be here—"
"While I learn my position, I presume."
"Precisely."
"Very well then. Begin. Why harm?"
"Not now."
"Why not?"
"It is too long a story, Sire."
"All the more I should at once. You say I am a person of importance. What was that I heard? Why is a great and my is over, and who are the men in white in that chamber?"
"All in good time, Sire," said Howard. "But not crudely, not crudely. This is one of those times when no man has a settled mind. Your awakening—no one your awakening. The Council is consulting."
"What council?"
"The Council you saw."
Graham a movement. "This is not right," he said. "I should be told what is happening."
"You must wait. Really you must wait."
Graham sat abruptly. "I since I have waited so long to life," he said, "that I must wait a little longer."
"That is better," said Howard. "Yes, that is much better. And I must you alone. For a space. While I the in the Council…. I am sorry."
He the noiseless door, and vanished.
Graham walked to the door, it, it in some way he came to understand, about, the room restlessly, the of the room, and sat down. He for some time with arms and brow, his and trying to piece together the of this hour of life; the spaces, the series of and passages, the great that and through these ways, the little group of men the Atlas, Howard's behaviour. There was an of some already in his mind—a misapplied—of some and opportunity. What had he to do? And this room's was of imprisonment!
It came into Graham's mind with that this series of was a dream. He to his and succeeded, but that time-honoured device to no awakening.
Presently he to touch and all the of the two small rooms in which he himself.
In a long of he saw himself and stopped astonished. He was in a of and white, with a little to a point, and his hair, its now with of grey, over his in an but manner. He a man of five-and-forty perhaps. For a moment he did not this was himself.
A of came with the recognition. "To call on old Warming like this!" he exclaimed, "and make him take me out to lunch!"
Then he of meeting one and then another of the familiar of his early manhood, and in the of his that every with he might had died many score of years ago. The him and keenly; he stopped short, the of his to a white consternation.
The memory of the moving and the façade of that itself. The came clear and vivid, and those remote, inaudible, in white. He himself a little figure, very small and ineffectual, conspicuous. And all about him, the world was—strange.
