his dreams. For this young man,
wedged upright in the crowd for a time, had been shot and was already
dead.

A fourth white star must have been lit by the man on the cable. Its
light came glaring in through vast windows and arches and showed Graham
that he was now one of a dense mass of flying black figures pressed back
across the lower area of the great theatre. This time the picture was
livid and fragmentary slashed and barred with black shadows. He saw that
quite near to him the red guards were fighting their way through the
people. He could not tell whether they saw him. He looked for Lincoln
and his guards. He saw Lincoln near the stage of the theatre surrounded
in a crowd of black-badged revolutionaries, lifted up and staring to
and fro as if seeking him. Graham perceived that he himself was near
the opposite edge of the crowd, that behind him, separated by a barrier,
sloped the now vacant seats of the theatre. A sudden idea came to him,
and he began fighting his way towards the barrier. As he reached it the
glare came to an end.

In a moment he had thrown off the great cloak that not only impeded
his movements but made him conspicuous, and had slipped it from his
shoulders. He heard someone trip in its folds. In another he was scaling
the barrier and had dropped into the blackness on the further side. Then
feeling his way he came to the lower end of an ascending gangway. In
the darkness the sound of firing ceased and the roar of feet and voices
lulled. Then suddenly he came to an unexpected step and tripped and
fell. As he did so pools and islands amidst the darkness about him leapt
to vivid light again, the uproar surged louder and the glare of the
fifth white star shone through the vast fenestrations of the theatre
walls.

He rolled over among some seats, heard a shouting and the whirring
rattle of weapons, struggled up and was knocked back again, perceived
that a number of black-badged men were all about him firing at the
rebels below, leaping from seat to seat, crouching among the seats
to reload. Instinctively he crouched amidst the seats, as stray shots
ripped the pneumatic cushions and cut bright slashes on their soft metal
frames. Instinctively he marked the direction of the gangways, the most
plausible way of escape for him so soon as the veil of darkness fell
again.

A young man in faded blue garments came vaulting over the seats.
"Hullo!" he said, with his flying feet within six inches of the
cr