ity of the world!

What was its meaning?

And the tall iron fence with the bristling spikes to keep out the mob,
and that queer underground entrance on the side. These feudal minarets,
battlements and frowning black iron pikes, were they symbolic of a
revival of the feudal spirit of the Middle Ages? Or were they merely
the day-dreams of an artist with no social meaning beyond the vagaries
of his fancy?

Had a new master of the world really been born? And had he begun to
build his castles to stun and overawe the rabbles that pass his door?
Or was this strange being as yet neither fish nor fowl, neither beast
nor human, merely a fungous growth on the diseased tissue of the modern
world? Who could tell? Surely his like had never been seen in the
history of man--this modern money-maniac, this strange creature of iron
muscles, always hurrying, daring, scheming, plotting, with never a
moment's relaxation, day or night, eating or drinking, working or
sleeping, in his office or in his home, going or coming in his yacht
with wireless tower, his private car with telegraph office, his
secretary always by his side, a telephone always at his bed, with no
time to live, no time to love, with only time to fight and kill and
pile the spoils of war on high!

The old baron who lived beneath those graceful minarets and walked
behind these pikes felt his high responsibilities. He was the champion
of his people against their enemies. He was their protector while he
claimed to be their lord. But this strange new creature, who had begun
to masquerade in his ancient armour and steal his crests, who is he?
Certainly he acknowledges no obligations to any people.

Stuart was roused from his reverie by the passing of a powerfully built
man who had been following him since he had first approached the Bivens
palace. The keen eyes searched has face with piercing gaze and the
lawyer smiled as he recognized in the stranger one of the private
guards of which the modern masters of the world have felt the need. In
the Middle Ages he stood watch on the ramparts of the baron's
castle--now he walks the block and lifts his finger to suspicious
persons. In the old days he wore his armour on the outside and carried
a spear. Now he wears a hidden coat of mail and carries concealed two
automatic guns.

The guard smiled in friendly recognition and Stuart knew that he was
expected by the servants of the great man.

The sentinel was an Italian. Bivens, the s