a
last effort to break through the press.

A dozen motor-buses towered up like islands in this flood, the passengers
who crowded the roofs lying all huddled together and across each others'
laps like a child's toys in a nursery. On a broad lamp pedestal in the
centre of the roadway, a burly policeman was standing, leaning his back
against the post in so natural an attitude that it was hard to realize
that he was not alive, while at his feet there lay a ragged newsboy with
his bundle of papers on the ground beside him. A paper-cart had got
blocked in the crowd, and we could read in large letters, black upon
yellow, "Scene at Lord's. County Match Interrupted." This must have
been the earliest edition, for there were other placards bearing the
legend, "Is It the End? Great Scientist's Warning." And another, "Is
Challenger Justified? Ominous Rumours."

Challenger pointed the latter placard out to his wife, as it thrust
itself like a banner above the throng. I could see him throw out his
chest and stroke his beard as he looked at it. It pleased and flattered
that complex mind to think that London had died with his name and his
words still present in their thoughts. His feelings were so evident that
they aroused the sardonic comment of his colleague.

"In the limelight to the last, Challenger," he remarked.

"So it would appear," he answered complacently. "Well," he added as he
looked down the long vista of the radiating streets, all silent and all
choked up with death, "I really see no purpose to be served by our
staying any longer in London. I suggest that we return at once to
Rotherfield and then take counsel as to how we shall most profitably
employ the years which lie before us."

Only one other picture shall I give of the scenes which we carried back
in our memories from the dead city. It is a glimpse which we had of the
interior of the old church of St. Mary's, which is at the very point
where our car was awaiting us. Picking our way among the prostrate
figures upon the steps, we pushed open the swing door and entered. It
was a wonderful sight. The church was crammed from end to end with
kneeling figures in every posture of supplication and abasement. At the
last dreadful moment, brought suddenly face to face with the realities of
life, those terrific realities which hang over us even while we follow
the shadows, the terrified people had rushed into those old city churches
which for generations h