ion of Colour, all
distinctions would cease; Regularity would be confused with
Irregularity; development would give place to retrogression; the
Workman would in a few generations be degraded to the level of the
Military, or even the Convict Class; political power would be in the
hands of the greatest number, that is to say the Criminal Classes, who
were already more numerous than the Workmen, and would soon out-number
all the other Classes put together when the usual Compensative Laws of
Nature were violated.

A subdued murmur of assent ran through the ranks of the Artisans, and
Chromatistes, in alarm, attempted to step forward and address them.
But he found himself encompassed with guards and forced to remain
silent while the Chief Circle in a few impassioned words made a final
appeal to the Women, exclaiming that, if the Colour Bill passed, no
marriage would henceforth be safe, no woman's honour secure; fraud,
deception, hypocrisy would pervade every household; domestic bliss
would share the fate of the Constitution and pass to speedy perdition.
"Sooner than this," he cried, "Come death."

At these words, which were the preconcerted signal for action, the
Isosceles Convicts fell on and transfixed the wretched Chromatistes;
the Regular Classes, opening their ranks, made way for a band of Women
who, under direction of the Circles, moved, back foremost, invisibly
and unerringly upon the unconscious soldiers; the Artisans, imitating
the example of their betters, also opened their ranks. Meantime bands
of Convicts occupied every entrance with an impenetrable phalanx.

The battle, or rather carnage, was of short duration. Under the
skillful generalship of the Circles almost every Woman's charge was
fatal and very many extracted their sting uninjured, ready for a second
slaughter. But no second blow was needed; the rabble of the Isosceles
did the rest of the business for themselves. Surprised, leader-less,
attacked in front by invisible foes, and finding egress cut off by the
Convicts behind them, they at once--after their manner--lost all
presence of mind, and raised the cry of "treachery". This sealed their
fate. Every Isosceles now saw and felt a foe in every other. In half
an hour not one of that vast multitude was living; and the fragments of
seven score thousand of the Criminal Class slain by one another's
angles attested the triumph of Order.

The Circles delayed not to push their victory to the uttermost.