on a motor bicycle in the barricade, and
called to him instantly: "Let that alone."

The motorist did not at once remove his hand, whereupon the
white-moustached man gripped his gun in both hands and ran violently
towards him. He ran directly to him, body to body, and, as he was short
and the motorist was very tall, stared fixedly up in his face. He roared
up at his face in a mighty voice.

"Are you deaf? Are you deaf? Move back!"

The motorist moved away, pursued by an eye as steady and savage as the
point of the bayonet that was level with it.

Another motor car came round the Ely Place corner of the Green and
wobbled at the sight of the barricade. The three men who had returned
to the gates roared "Halt," but the driver made a tentative effort to
turn his wheel. A great shout of many voices came then, and the three
men ran to him.

"Drive to the barricade," came the order.

The driver turned his wheel a point further towards escape, and
instantly one of the men clapped a gun to the wheel and blew the tyre
open. Some words were exchanged, and then a shout:

"Drive it on the rim, drive it."

The tone was very menacing, and the motorist turned his car slowly to
the barricade and placed it in.

For an hour I tramped the City, seeing everywhere these knots of
watchful strangers speaking together in low tones, and it sank into my
mind that what I had heard was true, and that the City was in
insurrection. It had been promised for so long, and had been threatened
for so long. Now it was here. I had seen it in the Green, others had
seen it in other parts--the same men clad in dark green and equipped
with rifle, bayonet, and bandolier, the same silent activity. The police
had disappeared from the streets. At that hour I did not see one
policeman, nor did I see one for many days, and men said that several of
them had been shot earlier in the morning; that an officer had been shot
on Portobello Bridge, that many soldiers had been killed, and that a
good many civilians were dead also.

Around me as I walked the rumour of war and death was in the air.
Continually and from every direction rifles were crackling and rolling;
sometimes there was only one shot, again it would be a roll of firing
crested with single, short explosions, and sinking again to whip-like
snaps and whip-like echoes; then for a moment silence, and then again
the guns leaped in the air.

The rumour of positions, bridges, public places, railway sta