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 pointed1 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 tremendous uproar2 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 fixed3 on him, her lips trembled apart. A partially4 opened door gave a glimpse of the crowded hall, and admitted a vast uneven5 tumult6, a hammering, clapping and shouting that died away and began again, and rose to a thunderous pitch, and so continued intermittently7 all the time that Graham remained in the little room. He watched the lips of the man in black and gathered that he was making some explanation.
He stared stupidly for some moments at these things and then stood up abruptly8; he grasped the arm of this shouting person.
"Tell me!" he cried. "Who am I? Who am I?"
The others came nearer to hear his words. "Who am I?" His eyes searched their faces.
"They have told him nothing!" cried the girl.
"Tell me, tell me!" cried Graham.
"You are the Master of the Earth. You are owner of the world."
He did not believe he heard aright. He resisted the persuasion9. He pretended not to understand, not to hear. He lifted his voice again. "I have been awake three days--a prisoner three days. I judge there is some struggle between a number of people in this city--it is London?"
"Yes," said the younger man.
"And those who meet in the great hall with the white Atlas10? How does it concern me? In some way it has to do with me. _Why_, I don't know. Drugs? It seems to me that while I have slept the world has gone mad. I have gone mad.... Who are those Councillors under the Atlas? Why should they try to drug me?"
"To keep you insensible," said the man in yellow. "To prevent your interference."
"But _why_?"
"Because _you_ are the Atlas, Sire," said the man in yellow. "The world is on your shoulders. They rule it in your name."
The sounds from the hall had died into a silence threaded by one monotonous11 voice. Now suddenly, trampling12 on these last words, came a deafening13 tumult, a roaring and thundering, cheer crowded on cheer, voices hoarse14 and shrill15, beating, overlapping16, and while it lasted the people in the little room could not hear each other shout.
Graham stood, his intelligence clinging helplessly to the thing he had just heard. "The Council," he repeated blankly, and then snatched at a name that had struck him. "But who is Ostrog?" he said.
"He is the organiser--the organiser of the revolt. Our Leader--in your name."
"In my name?--And you? Why is he not here?"
"He--has deputed us. I am his brother--his half-brother, Lincoln. He wants you to show yourself to these people and then come on to him. That is why he has sent. He is at the wind-vane offices directing. The people are marching."
"In your name," shouted the younger man. "They have ruled, crushed, tyrannised. At last even--"
"In my name! My name! Master?"
The younger man suddenly became audible in a pause of the outer thunder, indignant and vociferous17, a high penetrating18 voice under his red aquiline19 nose and bushy moustache. "No one expected you to wake. No one expected you to wake. They were cunning. Damned tyrants20! But they were taken by surprise. They did not know whether to drug you, hypnotise you, kill you."
Again the hall dominated everything.
"Ostrog is at the wind-vane offices ready--. Even now there is a rumour21 of fighting beginning."
The man who had called himself Lincoln came close to him. "Ostrog has it planned. Trust him. We have our organisations ready. We shall seize the flying stages--. Even now he may be doing that. Then--"
"This public theatre," bawled22 the man in yellow, "is only a contingent23. We have five myriads24 of drilled men--"
"We have arms," cried Lincoln. "We have plans. A leader. Their police have gone from the streets and are massed in the--" (inaudible). "It is now or never. The Council is rocking--They cannot trust even their drilled men--"
"Hear the people calling to you!"
Graham's mind was like a night of moon and swift clouds, now dark and hopeless, now clear and ghastly. He was Master of the Earth, he was a man sodden25 with thawing26 snow. Of all his fluctuating impressions the dominant27 ones presented an antagonism28; on the one hand was the White Council, powerful, disciplined, few, the White Council from which he had just escaped; and on the other, monstrous29 crowds, packed masses of indistinguishable people clamouring his name, hailing him Master. The other side had imprisoned30 him, debated his death. These shouting thousands beyond the little doorway31 had rescued him. But why these things should be so he could not understand.
The door opened, Lincoln's voice was swept away and drowned, and a rash of people followed on the heels of the tumult. These intruders came towards him and Lincoln gesticulating. The voices without explained their soundless lips. "Show us the Sleeper32, show us the Sleeper!" was the burden of the uproar. Men were bawling33 for "Order! Silence!"
Graham glanced towards the open doorway, and saw a tall, oblong picture of the hall beyond, a waving, incessant34 confusion of crowded, shouting faces, men and women together, waving pale blue garments, extended hands. Many were standing35, one man in rags of dark brown, a gaunt figure, stood on the seat and waved a black cloth. He met the wonder and expectation of the girl's eyes. What did these people expect from him. He was dimly aware that the tumult outside had changed its character, was in some way beating, marching. His own mind, too, changed. For a space he did not recognise the influence that was transforming him. But a moment that was near to panic passed. He tried to make audible inquiries36 of what was required of him.
Lincoln was shouting in his ear, but Graham was deafened37 to that. All the others save the woman gesticulated towards the hall. He perceived what had happened to the uproar. The whole mass of people was chanting together. It was not simply a song, the voices were gathered together and upborne by a torrent38 of instrumental music, music like the music of an organ, a woven texture39 of sounds, full of trumpets40, full of flaunting41 banners, full of the march and pageantry of opening war. And the feet of the people were beating time--tramp, tramp.
He was urged towards the door. He obeyed mechanically. The strength of that chant took hold of him, stirred him, emboldened42 him. The hall opened to him, a vast welter of fluttering colour swaying to 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 mantle43 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 onward44. For the instant she became to him, flushed and eager as she was, an embodiment of the song. He emerged in the alcove45 again. Incontinently the mounting waves of the song broke upon his appearing, and flashed up into a foam46 of shouting. Guided by Lincoln's hand he marched obliquely47 across the centre of the stage facing the people.
The hall was a vast and intricate space--galleries, 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 brandishing48 a green staff. Next this group an old careworn49 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 feet--marking time, tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp. The green weapons waved, flashed and slanted50. 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 theatrically51 past him. He noted52 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 receded53, looking backward. Heads, shoulders, hands clutching weapons, all were swinging with those marching cadences54.
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, tributary55 gangways from the remote uplands of the hall thrust downward in an incessant replacement56 of people; tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp. The unison57 of the song was enriched and complicated by the massive echoes of arches and passages. Men and women mingled58 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 smote59 downward until the upturned faces were below the level of his feet. He was aware of a path before him, of a suite60 about him, of guards and dignities, and Lincoln on his right hand. Attendants intervened, and ever and again blotted61 out the sight of the multitude to the left. Before him went the backs of the guards in black--three 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 spaciousness62 of hall. Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp.
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1
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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intermittently
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| adv.间歇地；断断续续 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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overlapping
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| adj./n.交迭（的） | |
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vociferous
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| adj.喧哗的，大叫大嚷的 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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tyrants
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| 专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 )； 暴君似的人； （古希腊的）僭主； 严酷的事物 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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thawing
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| n.熔化，融化v.（气候）解冻( thaw的现在分词 )；（态度、感情等）缓和；（冰、雪及冷冻食物）溶化；软化 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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41
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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42
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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obliquely
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| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
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brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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careworn
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| adj.疲倦的，饱经忧患的 | |
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50
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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51
theatrically
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| adv.戏剧化地 | |
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52
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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54
cadences
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| n.（声音的）抑扬顿挫( cadence的名词复数 )；节奏；韵律；调子 | |
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tributary
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| n.支流；纳贡国；adj.附庸的；辅助的；支流的 | |
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replacement
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| n.取代，替换，交换；替代品，代用品 | |
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unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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spaciousness
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| n.宽敞 | |
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