es on both sides of Ludgate hill, with all the purlieus at the
back of each range of buildings, had been demolished, so that a huge
open space, spreading fan shape, (the handle at St. Paul's) swept out,
ever-widening, on the left as far as the approach of Blackfriar's
Bridge, on the right through Farringdon Street to the Viaduct Bridge.

Within this space a million people could not only have congregated, but
have heard distinctly, without any effort, the merest whisper spoken
into the latest phone discovery the "Hearit." As, too, every bit of
that open space was many yards below the level of St. Paul's steps,
every one had a perfect view of all that transpired there.

The night in question, when the latest and greatest of the false
Christs, "Conrad the Conqueror," had arranged to defy Apleon, proved to
be exceptionally dark.

Three quarters of a million people were gathered in "The Fan"--that
open space had been christened "The Fan" on account of its shape. It
was admirably lit by the new light "Radiance," while a perfect blaze of
radiance illumined the huge scarlet-covered, scarlet-draped platform
that had been erected immediately in front of the steps of the
Cathedral. (It was all very stagey, very theatrical, but then that was
characteristic of the new age and regime.)

The false Christ appeared, and was greeted with a curious mixture of
groans and hisses, and of cheers. (A keen judge might have been
pardoned if he had said that the bulk of the cheers were ironical.)

Speaking in his ordinary voice, the suction plates of the "Hearit"
transmitted his words to the farthest remove of that "Fan" so that all
could easily hear.

With a kind of gentle gravity, at first, he began by saying:

"Nearly nineteen hundred years ago when I walked this earth, at my
first advent, I warned my disciples--and through them the world--that
many false Christs would come, but when it was said 'Lo, here!' or 'Lo,
there!' that they were not to go hither and thither, many of these
false Christs have appeared, and have tried to lead the people astray.
Oh foolish people! How easily were they bewitched! And how worse than
foolish the imposters were. They might have known that I should not
have suffered them to take My Name in vain."

For ten minutes he talked thus, then suddenly changed his tone, and
raising his right arm--it was long, thin, gaunt, and the wide-flowing
sleeve of his white seamless robe, fell back showing the lean l