an eye of
fire. And remembering what had happened since he left the monastery--the
sandwich men, the boards on the omnibuses, the hoardings on the walls--it
seemed like a fiery finger which had led him to that spot. Only one thing
was clear--that a supernatural power had brought him there, and that it
was intended he should come. Fearfully, shamefully, miserably, rebuking
himself for his doubts, yet conquered and compelled by them, he crossed
the street and entered the music hall.

He was in the pit and it was crowded; not a seat vacant anywhere, and
many persons standing packed in the crush-room at the back. His first
sensation was of being stared at. First the man at the pay-box and then
the check-taker had looked at him, and now he was being looked at by the
people about him. They were both men and girls. Some of the men wore
light frock-coats and talked in the slang of the race-course, some of the
girls wore noticeable hats and showy flowers in their bosoms and were
laughing in loud voices. They made a way for him of themselves, and he
passed through to a wooden barrier that ran round the last of the pit
seats.

The music hall was large, and to John Storm's eyes, straight from the
poverty of his cell, it seemed garish in the red and gold of its Eastern
decorations. Men in the pit seats were smoking pipes and cigarettes, and
waiters with trays were hurrying up and down the aisles serving ale and
porter, which they set down on ledges like the book-rests in church. In
the stalls in front, which were not so full, gentlemen in evening dress
were smoking cigars, and there was an arc of the tier above, in which
people in fashionable costumes were talking audibly. Higher yet, and
unseen from that position, there was a larger audience still, whose
voices rumbled like a distant sea. A cloud of smoke filled the
atmosphere, and from time to time there was the sound of popping corks
and breaking glasses and rolling bottles.

The curtain was down, but the orchestra was beginning to play. Two men in
livery came from the sides of the curtain and fixed up large figures in
picture frames that were attached to the wings of the proscenium. Then
the curtain rose and the entertainment was resumed. It was in sections,
and after each performance the curtain was dropped and the waiters went
round with their trays again.

John Storm had seen it all before in the days when, under his father's
guidance, he had seen everything--the juggler,