OSTROG
Graham now take a view of his position. For a long time yet he wandered, but after the talk of the old man his of this Ostrog was clear in his mind as the final decision. One thing was evident, those who were at the of the had succeeded very in the of his disappearance. But every moment he to the report of his death or of his by the Council.
Presently a man stopped him. "Have you heard?" he said.
"No!" said Graham, starting.
"Near a dozand," said the man, "a men!" and on.
A number of men and a girl passed in the darkness, and shouting: "Capitulated! Given up!" "A of men." "Two of men." "Ostrog, Hurrah! Ostrog, Hurrah!" These receded, indistinct.
Other men followed. For a time his attention was in the of speech he heard. He had a all were speaking English. Scraps to him, like Pigeon English, like "nigger" dialect, and distortions. He no one with questions. The the people gave him with his of the and the old man's in Ostrog. It was only slowly he himself to that all these people were at the of the Council, that the Council which had him with such power and was after all the of the two in conflict. And if that was so, how did it affect him? Several times he on the of questions. Once he and walked for a long way after a little man of outline, but he was unable to master to address him.
It was only slowly that it came to him that he might ask for the "wind-vane offices" the "wind-vane offices" might be. His resulted in a direction to go on Westminster. His second to the of a cut in which he was lost. He was told to the to which he had himself—knowing no other means of transit—and to one of the middle into the of a cross-way. Thereupon came some adventures; of these an with a gruff-voiced speaking in a that at a tongue, a thick of speech with the of English Words therein, the of the latter-day vile. Then another voice near, a girl's voice singing, "tralala tralala." She spoke to Graham, her English touched with something of the same quality. She to have her sister, she into him he thought, of him and laughed. But a word of sent her into the again.
The about him increased. Stumbling people passed him, speaking excitedly. "They have surrendered!" "The Council! Surely not the Council!" "They are saying so in the Ways." The passage wider. Suddenly the away. He was in a great space and people were remotely. He his way of an figure. "Strike across," said a woman's voice. He left his wall, and in a moment had against a little table on which were of glass. Graham's eyes, now to darkness, out a long with tables on either side. He this. At one or two of the tables he a of and a of eating. There were people then to dine, or to a in of social and darkness. Far off and high up he presently saw a light of a semi-circular shape. As he approached this, a black came up and it. He at steps and himself in a gallery. He a sobbing, and two little girls by a railing. These children at the near of feet. He to them, but they were very still until he left them. Then as he he them again.
Presently he himself at the of a and near a wide opening. He saw a above this and out of the into a of moving again. Along this a of people shouting. They were of the song of the revolt, most of them out of tune. Here and there shadows. He asked his way and was twice puzzled by that same thick dialect. His third attempt an answer he understand. He was two miles from the wind-vane offices in Westminster, but the way was easy to follow.
When at last he did approach the of the wind-vane offices it to him, from the that came along the Ways, from the of rejoicing, and from the of the of the city, that the of the Council must already be accomplished. And still no news of his came to his ears.
The re-illumination of the city came with abruptness. Suddenly he blinking, all about him men dazzled, and the world was incandescent. The light him already upon the of the that the near the wind-vane offices, and the of and that came with it his of joining Ostrog to a anxiety.
For a time he was jostled, obstructed, and by men and with his name, some of them and in his cause. The of the wind-vane offices was by some moving picture, but what it was he not see, in of his the of the his it. From the of speech he caught, he it news of the about the Council House. Ignorance and him slow and in his movements. For a time he not how he was to the façade of this place. He his way slowly into the of this of people, until he that the of the way to the of the buildings. This gave him a goal, but the in the path was so that it was long he it. And then he obstruction, and had an hour of in this room and then in that he a note taken to the one man of all men who was most to see him. His was laughed to at one place, and for that, when at last he a second he to have news of for Ostrog. What it was he would not say. They sent his note reluctantly. For a long time he waited in a little room at the of the shaft, and at last came Lincoln, eager, apologetic, astonished. He stopped in the Graham, then effusively.
"Yes," he cried. "It is you. And you are not dead!"
Graham a explanation.
"My is waiting," Lincoln. "He is alone in the wind-vane offices. We you had been killed in the theatre. He doubted—and are very urgent still in of what we are telling them there—or he would have come to you."
They a lift, passed along a narrow passage, a great hall, empty save for two messengers, and entered a little room, only was a long and a large of cloudy, shifting grey, by from the wall. There Lincoln left Graham for a space, and he alone without the that slowly across this disc.
His attention was by a that abruptly. It was cheering, the of a but very crowd, a exultation. This ended as as it had begun, like a the opening and of a door. In the room was a noise of steps and a as if a was over the teeth of a wheel.
Then he the voice of a woman, the of garments. "It is Ostrog!" he her say. A little fitfully, and then was still again.
Presently came voices, and movement without. The of some one person itself from the other sounds, and near, firm, steps. The slowly. A tall, white-haired man, in of cream-coloured silk, appeared, Graham from under his arm.
For a moment the white the curtain, then it and it. Graham's was of a very forehead, very under white brows, an nose, and a heavily-lined mouth. The of over the eyes, the of the of the mouth the bearing, and said the man was old. Graham rose to his instinctively, and for a moment the two men in silence, each other.
"You are Ostrog?" said Graham.
"I am Ostrog."
"The Boss?"
"So I am called."
Graham the of the silence. "I have to thank you chiefly, I understand, for my safety," he said presently.
"We were you were killed," said Ostrog. "Or sent to sleep again—for ever. We have been doing to keep our secret—the of your disappearance. Where have you been? How did you here?"
Graham told him briefly.
Ostrog in silence.
He faintly. "Do you know what I was doing when they came to tell me you had come?"
"How can I guess?"
"Preparing your double."
"My double?"
"A man as like you as we find. We were going to him, to save him the of acting. It was imperative. The whole of this on the idea that you are awake, alive, and with us. Even now a great of people has in the theatre to see you. They do not trust…. You know, of course—something of your position?"
"Very little," said Graham.
"It is like this." Ostrog walked a or two into the room and turned.
"You are owner," he said, "of the world. You are King of the
Earth. Your powers are limited in many ways, but you are the
figure-head, the popular symbol of government. This White Council, the
Council of Trustees as it is called—"
"I have the of these things."
"I wondered."
"I came upon a old man."
"I see…. Our masses—the word comes from your days—you know, of course, that we still have masses—regard you as our ruler. Just as a great number of people in your days the Crown as the ruler. They are discontented—the all over the earth—with the of your Trustees. For the most part it is the old discontent, the old of the common man with his commonness—the of work and and unfitness. But your Trustees have ill. In matters, in the administration of the Labour Companies, for example, they have been unwise. They have opportunities. Already we of the popular party were for reforms—when your came. Came! If it had been it not have come more opportunely." He smiled. "The public mind, making no for your years of quiescence, had already on the of you and to you, and—Flash!"
He the by a gesture, and Graham moved his to that he understood.
"The Council muddled—quarrelled. They always do. They not decide what to do with you. You know how they you?"
"I see. I see. And now—we win?"
"We win. Indeed we win. To-night, in five hours. Suddenly we everywhere. The wind-vane people, the Labour Company and its millions, the bonds. We got the of the aeroplanes."
"Yes," said Graham.
"That was, of course, essential. Or they have got away. All the city rose, every third man almost was in it! All the blue, all the public services, save only just a and about the red police. You were rescued, and their own police of the ways—not of them be at the Council House—have been up, or killed. All London is ours—now. Only the Council House remains.
"Half of those who to them of the red police were in that attempt to you. They their when they you. They all they had at the theatre. We cut them off from the Council House there. Truly to-night has been a night of victory. Everywhere your star has blazed. A day ago—the White Council as it has for a of years, for a century and a of years, and then, with only a little whispering, a here and there, suddenly—So!"
"I am very ignorant," said Graham. "I suppose—I do not the of this fighting. If you explain. Where is the Council? Where is the fight?"
Ostrog across the room, something clicked, and suddenly, save for an glow, they were in darkness. For a moment Graham was puzzled.
Then he saw that the cloudy had taken and colour, had the of an window looking out upon a scene.
At the he was unable to what this might be. It was a scene, the of a day, and clear. Across the picture, and as it him and the view, a of white wire vertically. Then he that the of great wind-wheels he saw, the wide intervals, the occasional of darkness, were to those through which he had from the Council House. He an file of red across an open space of men in black, and Ostrog spoke that he was looking on the upper surface of latter-day London. The had gone. He that this was some modern of the camera obscura, but that was not to him. He saw that though the file of red was from left to right, yet they were out of the picture to the left. He momentarily, and then saw that the picture was slowly, fashion, across the oval.
"In a moment you will see the fighting," said Ostrog at his elbow. "Those in red you notice are prisoners. This is the space of London—all the houses are now. The and public are in. The and of your time have disappeared."
Something out of focus the picture. Its a man. There was a of metal, a flash, something that across the oval, as the of a bird across its eye, and the picture was clear again. And now Graham men among the wind-wheels, pointing from which out little flashes. They and to the right, gesticulating—it might be they were shouting, but of that the picture told nothing. They and the wind-wheels passed slowly and across the of the mirror.
"Now," said Ostrog, "comes the Council House," and slowly a black into view and Graham's attention. Soon it was no longer an but a cavity, a space the edifices, and from it thin of rose into the winter sky. Gaunt of the building, and girders, rose out of this darkness. And over these of some place, minute men were clambering, leaping, swarming.
"This is the Council House," said Ostrog. "Their last stronghold. And the to out for a month in up the all about them—to stop our attack. You the smash? It the in the city."
And while he spoke, Graham saw that this area of ruins, it and to a great height, was a of white building. This had been by the of its surroundings. Black marked the passages the had apart; big had been open and the of their in the dawn, and the of and ends of lines and rods. And all the moved little red specks, the red-clothed of the Council. Every now and then the shadows. At the it to Graham that an attack upon this white was in progress, but then he that the party of the was not advancing, but the that this last of the red-garbed men, was up a firing.
And not ten hours ago he had the fans in a little that what was in the world!
Looking more as this moved across the centre of the mirror, Graham saw that the white was on every by ruins, and Ostrog to in phrases how its had by such to themselves from a storm. He spoke of the of men that had in an tone. He an among the wreckage, like cheese-mites along a that had once been a of moving ways. He was more in pointing out the parts of the Council House, the of the besiegers. In a little while the that had London was no longer a to Graham. It was no had that night, no equal warfare, but a d'état. Ostrog's of was astonishing; he to know the of the smallest of black and red that these places.
He a black arm across the picture, and the room Graham had escaped, and across the of the of his flight. Graham the across which the ran, and the wind-wheels where he had from the machine. The of his path had to the explosion. He looked again at the Council House, and it was already hidden, and on the right a with a of and pinnacles, hazy, and distant, was into view.
"And the Council is overthrown?" he said.
"Overthrown," said Ostrog.
"And I—. Is it true that I—?"
"You are Master of the World."
"But that white flag—"
"That is the flag of the Council—the flag of the Rule of the World. It will fall. The is over. Their attack on the theatre was their last struggle. They have only a thousand men or so, and some of these men will be disloyal. They have little ammunition. And we are the arts. We are guns."
"But—help. Is this city the world?"
"Practically this is all they have left to them of their empire. Abroad the have either with us or wait the issue. Your has them, them."
"But haven't the Council machines? Why is there no with them?"
"They had. But the part of the were in the with us. They wouldn't take the of on our side, but they would not against us. We had to a with the aeronauts. Quite were with us, and the others it. Directly they you had got away, those looking for you dropped. We killed the man who at you—an hour ago. And we the at the in every city we could, and so stopped and the aeroplanes, and as for the little that out—for some did—we up too and a fire for them to near the Council House. If they they couldn't again, there's no clear space about there for them to up. Several we have smashed, others have and surrendered, the have gone off to the Continent to a city if they can their fuel out. Most of these men were only too to be taken and out of harm's way. Upsetting in a machine isn't a very prospect. There's no for the Council that way. Its days are done."
He laughed and to the again to Graham what he meant by stages. Even the four nearer ones were and by a thin haze. But Graham they were very structures, by the of the about them.
And then as these passed to the left there came again the of the across which the men in red had been marching. And then the black ruins, and then again the white of the Council. It appeared no longer a pile, but in the sunlight, for a cloud had passed. About it the still in suspense, but now the red were no longer firing.
So, in a stillness, the man from the nineteenth century saw the of the great revolt, the of his rule. With a quality of it came to him that this was his world, and not that other he had left behind; that this was no to and cease; that in this world life was still him, all his and and responsibilities. He with fresh questions. Ostrog to answer them, and then off abruptly. "But these I must more later. At present there are—duties. The people are by the moving this from every part of the city—the markets and theatres are crowded. You are just in time for them. They are to see you. And they want to see you. Paris, New York, Chicago, Denver, Capri—thousands of are up and in a tumult, undecided, and to see you. They have that you should be for years, and now it is done they will believe—"
"But surely—I can't go …"
Ostrog answered from the other of the room, and the picture on the and as the light again. "There are kineto-telephoto-graphs," he said. "As you to the people here—all over the world of of people, packed and still in halls, will see you also. In black and white, of course—not like this. And you will their the in the hall.
"And there is an we shall use," said Ostrog, "used by some of the and dancers. It may be to you. You in a very light, and they see not you but a image of you on a screen—so that the man in the can, if he chooses, count your eyelashes."
Graham at one of the questions in his mind. "What is the population of London?" he said.
"Eight and myriads."
"Eight and what?"
"More than thirty-three millions."
These Graham's imagination.
"You will be to say something," said Ostrog. "Not what you used to call a Speech, but what our people call a word—just one sentence, six or seven words. Something formal. If I might suggest—'I have and my is with you.' That is the of thing they want."
"What was that?" asked Graham.
"'I am and my is with you.' And bow—bow royally. But we must you black robes—for black is your colour. Do you mind? And then they will to their homes."
Graham hesitated. "I am in your hands," he said.
Ostrog was of that opinion. He for a moment, to the and called to some attendants. Almost a black robe, the very of the black Graham had in the theatre, was brought. And as he it about his there came from the room without the of a high-pitched bell. Ostrog in to the attendant, then to his mind, the and disappeared.
For a moment Graham with the to Ostrog's steps. There was a of quick question and answer and of men running. The was and Ostrog reappeared, his with excitement. He the room in a stride, the room into darkness, Graham's arm and pointed to the mirror.
"Even as we away," he said.
Graham saw his finger, black and colossal, above the Council House. For a moment he did not understand. And then he that the that had the white banner was bare.
"Do you mean—?" he began.
"The Council has surrendered. Its is at an end for evermore."
"Look!" and Ostrog pointed to a of black that in little up the flagstaff, as it rose.
The picture as Lincoln the and entered.
"They are clamorous," he said.
Ostrog his of Graham's arm.
"We have the people," he said. "We have them arms. For to-day at least their must be law."
Lincoln the open for Graham and Ostrog to pass through….
On his way to the markets Graham had a of a long narrow white-walled room in which men in the were like biers, and about which men in medical to and fro. From this room came and wailing. He had an of an empty blood-stained couch, of men on other couches, and blood-stained. It was just a from a and then a the place and they were going on the markets….
The of the was near now: it to thunder. And, his attention, a of black banners, the of and rags, and the of the theatre near the public markets came into view a long passage. The picture opened out. He they were entering the great theatre of his appearance, the great theatre he had last as a chequer-work of and in his from the red police. This time he entered it along a at a level high above the stage. The place was now again. His the up which he had fled, but he not tell it from among its of fellows; he see anything of the seats, cushions, and such like of the of the of the people. Except the stage the whole place was closely packed. Looking the was a area of pink, each a still him. At his with Ostrog the died away, the died away, a common and the disorder. It as though every of those was him.
