ums. So
to-day we march on London.

"Let us commemorate, my friends, at this last hour, a great if all
unwitting benefactor, the protomartyr of our cause. You remember that
lank follower of the Newest Art, who lectured to us once within these
very walls? He it was who first expounded to us the beauty of
Birmingham, the artistic majesty of tall chimneys, the sombre glory of
furnaces, the deep mystery of smoke, the sad picturesqueness of
scrap-heaps and of slag. Then we began to hate our lives in earnest;
then we arose and struck. Even now I shudder when I think of that
lecturer's fate, and with a feeling of respect I commemorate his words
to-day.

"On, then! You need not doubt of my victory, nor of my power. Some of
you will die, but you know that death is rest. You do not need to fear
the sombre fireworks of a mediaeval Hell, nor yet the dreary
dissipations of a Methodist Heaven. Come, friends, and march on
London!"

They heard him in deep silence; there was a gentle stir of
preparation; they faded far below me.

II

THE PROCLAMATION

At a point ten years farther along that dusky road the Wind set me
down in a prodigious room. I had never before seen so large and
splendid a construction, so gracefully embellished, so justly
proportioned. The shape was elliptical, and it seemed as if the
architect had drawn his inspiration from the Coliseum at Rome. This
Hall, however, was much larger, and had the additional distinction of
a roof, which, supported by a granite column, was only rendered
visible from beneath by means of great bosses of clear gold. Galleries
ran round the walls, and there was even a corkscrew balustrade winding
up round the central pillar. Every part of the building was crowded
with people. There seemed to be no window in the place, so that I
could not tell whether or no it was night. The whole assembly was
illuminated by a thousand electric discs, and the ventilation was
almost perfectly planned on a system to me entirely strange. There was
a raised throne at one end of the building on which sat a King
decently dressed in black. I recognised the green-eyed man, and learnt
that his name was Harris, Joshua Harris. The entire body of the Hall
was filled by soldiers in mud-coloured tunics and waterproof boots.
These were the men that had conquered the world.

As soon as the populace were well assembled the King made a sign to
his Herald, who blew so sudden and terrific a blast with his trump