and he was in a brightly
lit hall with a roaring multitude of people beneath his feet. The
people! His people! A proscenium, a stage rushed up towards him, and his
cable swept down to a circular aperture to the right of this. He felt he
was travelling slower, and suddenly very much slower. He distinguished
shouts of "Saved! The Master. He is safe!" The stage rushed up towards
him with rapidly diminishing swiftness. Then--

He heard the man clinging behind him shout as if suddenly terrified,
and this shout was echoed by a shout from below. He felt that he was no
longer gliding along the cable but falling with it. There was a tumult
of yells, screams and cries. He felt something soft against his extended
hand, and the impact of a broken fall quivering through his arm...

He wanted to be still and the people were lifting him. He believed
afterwards he was carried to the platform and given some drink, but he
was never sure. He did not notice what became of his guide. When his
mind was clear again he was on his feet; eager hands were assisting him
to stand. He was in a big alcove, occupying the position that in his
previous experience had been devoted to the lower boxes. If this was
indeed a theatre.

A mighty tumult was in his ears, a thunderous roar, the shouting of a
countless multitude. "It is the Sleeper! The Sleeper is with us!"

"The Sleeper is with us! The Master--the Owner! The Master is with us.
He is safe."

Graham had a surging vision of a great hall crowded with people. He saw
no individuals, he was conscious of a froth of pink faces, of waving
arms and garments, he felt the occult influence of a vast crowd pouring
over him, buoying him up. There were balconies, galleries, great
archways giving remoter perspectives, and everywhere people, a vast
arena of people, densely packed and cheering. Across the nearer space
lay the collapsed cable like a huge snake. It had been cut by the men
of the flying machine at its upper end, and had crumpled down into the
hall. Men seemed to be hauling this out of the way. But the whole effect
was vague, the very buildings throbbed and leapt with the roar of the
voices.

He stood unsteadily and looked at those about him. Someone supported him
by one arm. "Let me go into a little room," he said, weeping; "a little
room," and could say no more. A man in black stepped forward, took his
disengaged arm. He was aware of officious men opening a door before
him. Someone guided him