ling from
the yard with Lord John at the wheel. I took my seat beside him, while
the lady, a useful little buffer state, was squeezed in between the two
men of wrath at the back. Then Lord John released his brakes, slid his
lever rapidly from first to third, and we sped off upon the strangest
drive that ever human beings have taken since man first came upon the
earth.

You are to picture the loveliness of nature upon that August day, the
freshness of the morning air, the golden glare of the summer sunshine,
the cloudless sky, the luxuriant green of the Sussex woods, and the deep
purple of heather-clad downs. As you looked round upon the many-coloured
beauty of the scene all thought of a vast catastrophe would have passed
from your mind had it not been for one sinister sign--the solemn,
all-embracing silence. There is a gentle hum of life which pervades a
closely-settled country, so deep and constant that one ceases to observe
it, as the dweller by the sea loses all sense of the constant murmur of
the waves. The twitter of birds, the buzz of insects, the far-off echo
of voices, the lowing of cattle, the distant barking of dogs, roar of
trains, and rattle of carts--all these form one low, unremitting note,
striking unheeded upon the ear. We missed it now. This deadly silence
was appalling. So solemn was it, so impressive, that the buzz and rattle
of our motor-car seemed an unwarrantable intrusion, an indecent disregard
of this reverent stillness which lay like a pall over and round the ruins
of humanity. It was this grim hush, and the tall clouds of smoke which
rose here and there over the country-side from smoldering buildings,
which cast a chill into our hearts as we gazed round at the glorious
panorama of the Weald.

And then there were the dead! At first those endless groups of drawn and
grinning faces filled us with a shuddering horror. So vivid and mordant
was the impression that I can live over again that slow descent of the
station hill, the passing by the nurse-girl with the two babes, the sight
of the old horse on his knees between the shafts, the cabman twisted
across his seat, and the young man inside with his hand upon the open
door in the very act of springing out. Lower down were six reapers all
in a litter, their limbs crossing, their dead, unwinking eyes gazing
upwards at the glare of heaven. These things I see as in a photograph.
But soon, by the merciful provision of nature, the over-excit