u. And you are not dead!"

Graham made a brief explanation.

"My brother is waiting," explained Lincoln. "He is alone in the wind-vane
offices. We feared you had been killed in the theatre. He doubted--and
things are very urgent still in spite of what we are telling them
_there_--or he would have come to you."

They ascended a lift, passed along a narrow passage, crossed a great
hall, empty save for two hurrying messengers, and entered a comparatively
little room, whose only furniture was a long settee and a large oval disc
of cloudy, shifting grey, hung by cables from the wall. There Lincoln
left Graham for a space, and he remained alone without understanding the
smoky shapes that drove slowly across this disc.

His attention was arrested by a sound that began abruptly. It was
cheering, the frantic cheering of a vast but very remote crowd, a roaring
exultation. This ended as sharply as it had begun, like a sound heard
between the opening and shutting of a door. In the outer room was a noise
of hurrying steps and a melodious clinking as if a loose chain was
running over the teeth of a wheel.

Then he heard the voice of a woman, the rustle of unseen garments. "It is
Ostrog!" he heard her say. A little bell rang fitfully, and then
everything was still again.

Presently came voices, footsteps and movement without. The footsteps of
some one person detached itself from the other sounds, and drew near,
firm, evenly measured steps. The curtain lifted slowly. A tall,
white-haired man, clad in garments of cream-coloured silk, appeared,
regarding Graham from under his raised arm.

For a moment the white form remained holding the curtain, then dropped it
and stood before it. Graham's first impression was of a very broad
forehead, very pale blue eyes deep sunken under white brows, an aquiline
nose, and a heavily-lined resolute mouth. The folds of flesh over the
eyes, the drooping of the corners of the mouth contradicted the upright
bearing, and said the man was old. Graham rose to his feet instinctively,
and for a moment the two men stood in silence, regarding each other.

"You are Ostrog?" said Graham.

"I am Ostrog."

"The Boss?"

"So I am called."

Graham felt the inconvenience of the silence. "I have to thank you
chiefly, I understand, for my safety," he said presently.

"We were afraid you were killed," said Ostrog. "Or sent to sleep
again--for ever. We have been doing everything to keep our secret--the
secret