thing might help one to an appreciation of certain incidents in
Roman history, like the turmoils in the time of the Gracchi, and the
scene in the forum when Mark Antony played on the heartstrings of the
populace. Everything is grist that comes to our mill. Even a football
game is a modern rendition of a gladiatorial combat. Don't you think
so?"

When they reached the edge of the great throng that already filled the
street in front of the opera house, Cardington, instead of plunging
into it as his companion had anticipated, turned down an alley, like
one familiar with the locality, and led the way to the stage door. The
manoeuvre disclosed to Leigh the fact that his colleague had intended
all the time to come, and also his own good fortune in obtaining such a
guide.

"Pass right in, professor," one of the guard said, as soon as he caught
sight of Cardington's tall figure. "A friend of yours? All right.
Sergeant, these are two friends of mine."

They made their way behind the scenes and came down into the pit, where
a few people, similarly favoured, were slowly selecting their seats.

"What kind of a pull have you got with these fellows?" Leigh asked,
secretly amused at the surprise his companion had reserved for him.

"A prophet is not always without honour, even in his own country,"
Cardington returned evasively.

Apparently his vein of talk was worked out to the end, for he fell into
a profound silence as soon as he had taken his seat, his arms folded
and his head bent forward, like one oblivious of his surroundings.

Leigh, not sorry to be left to his own thoughts and observations,
listened to the roar of the increasing multitude in the corridor
without. He was struck by an absence of that good humour which usually
characterises such a gathering. From time to time the doors creaked
and bulged inward as the people surged against them, clamouring
menacingly for admittance. Each repetition of the forward movement was
followed by an accentuated babel of voices: women screaming that they
were being crushed and shrilly demanding more room, men protesting that
they themselves were powerless to resist the pressure from behind. It
was evident that Cardington had not miscalculated their animus, for
they hurled maledictions at the janitor, who stood waiting within, his
watch in his hand, wavering between fear for the stability of the bolts
and an unwillingness to disobey orders. Those already admitted
listened