straight in the path of the
rushing globes, now a scant twoscore yards away.

The globes stopped--halted a few feet from him. They seemed to
contemplate us, astonished. They turned upon themselves, as though
consulting. Slowly they advanced. We were pushed forward and lifted
gently. Then as we hung suspended, held by that force which always I can
liken only to myriads of tiny invisible hands, the shining arcs of their
backs undulated beneath us.

Their files swung around the corner and marched down the passage by
which we had come from the immense hall. And when the last rank had
passed from under us we were dropped softly to our feet; stood swaying
in their wake.

A curious frenzy of helpless indignation shook me, a rage of humiliation
obscuring all gratitude I should have felt for our escape. Drake's eyes
blazed wrath.

"The insolent devils!" He raised clenched fists. "The insolent,
domineering devils!"

We stared after them.

Was the passage growing narrower--closing? Even as I gazed I saw it
shrink; saw its walls slide silently toward each other. I pushed Drake
into the newly opened way and sprang after him.

Behind us was an unbroken wall covering all that space in which but a
moment before we had stood!

Is it to be wondered that a panic seized us; that we began to run
crazily down the alley that still lay open before us, casting over
our shoulders quick, fearful glances to see whether that inexorable,
dreadful closing was continuing, threatening to crush us between these
walls like flies in a vise of steel?

But they did not close. Unbroken, silent, the way stretched before us
and behind us. At last, gasping, avoiding each other's gaze, we paused.

And at that very moment of pause a deeper tremor shook me, a trembling
of the very foundations of life, the shuddering of one who faces the
inconceivable knowing at last that the inconceivable--IS.

For, abruptly, walls and floor and roof broke forth into countless
twinklings!

As though a film had been withdrawn from them, as though they had
awakened from slumber, myriads of little points of light shone forth
upon us from the pale-blue surfaces--lights that considered us, measured
us--mocked us.

The little points of living light that were the eyes of the Metal
People!

This was no corridor cut through inert matter by mechanic art; its
opening had been caused by no hidden mechanisms! It was a living
Thing--walled and floored and roofed by the livi