when the sleeper wakes-第17节

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the　music。



〃Wave　your　arm　to　them；〃　said　Lincoln。　〃Wave

your　arm　to　them。〃



〃This；〃　said　a　voice　on　the　other　side；〃　he　must

have　this。　〃Arms　were　about　his　neck　detaining　him

in　the　doorway；　and　a　black　subtly…folding　mantle

hung　from　his　shoulders。　He　threw　his　arm　free　of　this

and　followed　Lincoln。　He　perceived　the　girl　in　grey

close　to　him；　her　face　lit；　her　gesture　onward。　For

the　instant　she　became　to　him；　flushed　and　eager　as

she　was；　an　embodiment　of　the　song。　He　emerged

in　the　alcove　again。　Incontinently　the　mounting　waves

of　the　song　broke　upon　his　appearing；　and　flashed　up

into　a　foam　of　shouting。　Guided　by　Lincoln's　hand

he　marched　obliquely　across　the　centre　of　the　stage

facing　the　people。



The　hall　was　a　vast　and　intricate　spacegalleries；

balconies；　broad　spaces　of　amphitheatral　steps；　and

great　archways。　Far　away；　high　up；　seemed　the

mouth　of　a　huge　passage　full　of　struggling　humanity。

The　whole　multitude　was　swaying　in　congested　masses。

Individual　figures　sprang　out　of　the　tumult；　impressed

him　momentarily；　and　lost　definition　again。　Close　to

the　platform　swayed　a　beautiful　fair　woman；　carried

by　three　men；　her　hair　across　her　face　and　brandishing

a　green　staff。　Next　this　group　an　old　careworn　man

in　blue　canvas　maintained　his　place　in　the　crush　with

difficulty；　and　behind　shouted　a　hairless　face；　a　great

cavity　of　toothless　mouth。　A　voice　called　that　

enigmatical　word　〃Ostrog。〃　All　his　impressions　were

vague　save　the　massive　emotion　of　that　trampling

song。　The　multitude　were　beating　time　with　their

feetmarking　time；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp。

The　green　weapons　waved；　flashed　and　slanted。　Then

he　saw　those　nearest　to　him　on　a　level　space　before

the　stage　were　marching　in　front　of　him；　passing

towards　a　great　archway；　shouting　〃　To　the　Council！　〃

Tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp。　He　raised　his　arm；　and

the　roaring　was　redoubled。　He　remembered　he　had

to　shout　〃　March！　〃　His　mouth　shaped　inaudible

heroic　words。　He　waved　his　arm　again　and　pointed

to　the　archway；　shouting　〃　Onward！　〃　They　were　no

longer　marking　time；　they　were　marching；　tramp；

tramp；　tramp；　tramp。　In　that　host　were　bearded　men；

old　men；　youths；　fluttering　robed　bare…armed　women；

girls。　Men　and　women　of　the　new　age！　Rich　robes；

grey　rags　fluttered　together　in　the　whirl　of　their　

movement　amidst　the　dominant　blue。　A　monstrous　black

banner　jerked　its　way　to　the　right。　He　perceived　a

blue…clad　negro；　a　shrivelled　woman　in　yellow；　then　a

group　of　tall　fair…haired；　white…faced；　blue…clad　men

pushed　theatrically　past　him。　He　noted　two　Chinamen。　

A　tall；　sallow；　dark…haired；　shining…eyed　youth；

white　clad　from　top　to　toe；　clambered　up　towards　the

platform　shouting　loyally；　and　sprang　down　again　and

receded；　looking　backward。　Heads；　shoulders；　hands

clutching　weapons；　all　were　swinging　with　those　

marching　cadences。



Faces　came　out　of　the　confusion　to　him　as　he　stood

there；　eyes　met　his　and　passed　and　vanished。　Men

gesticulated　to　him；　shouted　inaudible　personal　things。

Most　of　the　faces　were　flushed；　but　many　were　ghastly

white。　And　disease　was　there；　and　many　a　hand　that

waved　to　him　was　gaunt　and　lean。　Men　and　women

of　the　new　age！　Strange　and　incredible　meeting！　As

the　broad　stream　passed　before　him　to　the　right；　

tributary　gangways　from　the　remote　uplands　of　the　hall

thrust　downward　in　an　incessant　replacement　of　people；　

tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp。　The　unison　of　the

song　was　enriched　and　complicated　by　the　massive

echoes　of　arches　and　passages。　Men　and　women

mingled　in　the　ranks；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp。

The　whole　world　seemed　marching。　Tramp；　tramp；

tramp；　tramp；　his　brain　was　tramping。　The　garments

waved　onward；　the　faces　poured　by　more　abundantly。



Tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　at　Lincoln's　pressure

he　turned　towards　the　archway；　walking　unconsciously

in　that　rhythm；　scarcely　noticing　his　movement　for　the

melody　and　stir　of　it。　The　multitude；　the　gesture　and

song；　all　moved　in　that　direction；　the　flow　of　people

smote　downward　until　the　upturned　faces　were　below

the　level　of　his　feet。　He　was　aware　of　a　path　before

him；　of　a　suite　about　him；　of　guards　and　dignities；　and

；Lincoln　on　his　right　hand。　Attendants　intervened；

and　ever　and　again　blotted　out　the　sight　of　the　

multitude　to　the　left。　Before　him　went　the　backs　of　the

guards　in　blackthree　and　three　and　three。　He　was

marched　along　a　little　railed　way；　and　crossed　above

the　archway；　with　the　torrent　dipping　to　flow　beneath；

and　shouting　up　to　him。　He　did　not　know　whither

he　went；　he　did　not　want　to　know。　He　glanced　back

across　a　flaming　spaciousness　of　hall。　Tramp；　tramp；

tramp；　tramp。



CHAPTER　X



THE　BATTLE　OF　THE　DARKNESS



He　was　no　longer　in　the　hall。　He　was　marching

along　a　gallery　overhanging　one　of　the　great　streets

of　the　moving　platforms　that　traversed　the　city。

Before　him　and　behind　him　tramped　his　guards。　The

whole　concave　of　the　moving　ways　below　was　a　

congested　mass　of　people　marching；　tramping　to　the　left；

shouting；　waving　hands　and　arms；　pouring　along　a

huge　vista；　shouting　as　they　came　into　view；　shouting

as　they　passed；　shouting　as　they　receded；　until　the

globes　of　electric　light　receding　in　perspective　dropped

down　it　seemed　and　hid　the　swarming　bare　heads。

Tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp。



The　song　roared　up　to　Graham　now；　no　longer

upborne　by　music；　but　coarse　and　noisy；　and　the　

beating　of　the　marching　feet；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp；　tramp；

interwove　with　a　thunderous　irregularity　of　footsteps

from　the　undisciplined　rabble　that　poured　along　the

higher　ways。



Abruptly　he　noted　a　contrast。　The　buildings　on

the　opposite　side　of　the　way　seemed　deserted；　the

cables　and　bridges　that　laced　across　the　aisle　were

empty　and　shadowy。　It　came　into　Graham's　mind

that　these　also　should　have　swarmed　with　people。



He　felt　a　curious　emotionthrobbingvery　fast！

He　stopped　again。　The　guards　before　him　marched

on；　those　about　him　stopped　as　he　did。　He　saw　the

direction　of　their　faces。　The　throbbing　had　something

to　do　with　the　lights。　He　too　looked　up。



At　first　it　seemed　to　him　a　thing　that　affected　the

lights　simply；　an　isolated　phenomenon；　having　no

bearing　on　the　things　below。　Each　huge　globe　of

blinding　whiteness　was　as　it　were　clutched；　compressed

in　a　systole　that　was　followed　by　a　transitory　diastole；

and　again　a　systole　like　a　tightening　grip；　darkness；

light；　darkness；　in　rapid　alternation。



Graham　became　aware　that　this　strange　behaviour

of　the　lights　had　to　do　with　the　people　below。　The

appearance　of　the　houses　and　ways；　the　appearance

of　the　packed　masses　changed；　became　a　confusion　of

vivid　lights　and　leaping　shadows。　He　saw　a　multitude　

of　shadows　had　sprung　into　aggressive　existence；

seemed　rushing　up；　broadening；　widening；　growing

with　steady　swiftnessto　leap　suddenly　back　and

return　reinforced。　The　song　and　the　tramping　had

ceased。　The　unanimous　march；　he　discovered；　was

arrested；　there　were　eddies；　a　flow　sideways；　shouts　of

〃The　lights！〃　Voices　were　crying　together　one

thing。　〃The　lights！〃　cried　these　voices。　〃The

lights！〃　He　looked　down。　In　this　dancing　death

of　the　lights　the　area　of　the　street　had　suddenly

become　a　monstrous　struggle。　The　huge　white　globes

became　purple…white；　purple　with　a　reddish　glow；　

flickered；　flickered　faster　and　faster；　fluttered　between　light

and　extinction；　ceased　to　flicker　and　became　mere　

fading　specks　of　glowing　red　in　a　vast　obscurity。　In　ten

seconds　the　extinction　was　accomplished；　and　there

was　only　this　roaring　darkness；　a　black　monstrosity

that　had　suddenly　swallowed　up　those　glittering

myriads　of　men。



He　felt　invisible　forms　about　him；　his　arms　were

gripped。　Something　rapped　sharply　against　his　shin。

A　voice　bawled　in　his　ear；　〃　It　is　all　rightall　right。〃



Graham　shook　off　the　paralysis　of　his　first　astonishment。　

He　struck　his　forehead　against　Lincoln's　and

bawled；　〃What　is　this　darkness？〃



〃The　Council　has　cut　the　currents　that　light　the

city。　We　must　waitstop。　The　people　will　go　on。

They　will〃



His　voice　was　drowned。　Voices　were　shouting；

〃Save　the　Sleeper。　Take　care　of　the　Sleeper。〃　A

guard　stumbled　against　Graham　and　hurt　his　hand　by

an　inadvertent　blow　of　his　weapon。　A　wild　tumult

tossed　and　whirled　about　him；　growing；　as　it　seemed；

louder；　denser；　more　furious　each　moment。　Fragments　

of　recognisable　sounds　drove　towards　him；　were

whirled　away　from　him　as　his　mind　reached　out　to

grasp　them。　Voices　seemed　to　be　shouting　conflicting

orders；　other　voices　answered。　There　were　suddenly

a　succession　of　piercing　screams　close　beneath　them。



A　voice　bawled　in　his　ear；　〃The　red　police；〃　and

receded　forthwith　beyond　his　questions。



A　crackling　sound　grew　to　distinctness；　and　there

with　a　leaping　of　faint　flashes　along　the　edge　of　the

further　ways。　By　their　light　Graham　saw　the　heads