g out behind her in the wind.

The crowd hesitated at the sight of her, and quieted a little. She stood
rigid as a statue for a moment, holding her arms outstretched. Then,
dropping them with a gesture of appeal she began to speak.

At the sound of her voice, clear and vibrant, yet soft, gentle and
womanly, there came silence from below, and after a moment every face
was upturned to hers. Gradually her voice rose in pitch. Its gentle tone
was gone now--it became forceful, commanding. Then again she flung out
her arms with a dramatic gesture and stood rigid, every line of her body
denoting power--almost imperious command. Abruptly she ceased speaking,
and, as she stood motionless, slowly at first, the crowd silently
dispersed.

The street below was soon clear. Even those onlookers at a distance
turned the corner and disappeared. Another moment passed, and then Lylda
swayed and sank upon the floor of the balcony, with her head on her arms
against its low stone railing--just a tired, gentle, frightened little
woman.

"She did it--how wonderfully she did it," the Very Young Man murmured in
admiration.

"We can handle them now," answered the Chemist. "But each time--it is
harder. Let us get Lylda and go home, gentlemen. I want to tell you all
about it." He turned to leave the balcony.

"Who was the man? What was he tried for?" the Very Young Man demanded.

"That trial was the first of its kind ever held," the Chemist answered.
"The man was condemned to death. It was a new crime--the gravest we have
ever had to face--the crime of treason."

CHAPTER XXIII

LYLDA'S PLAN

Back home, comfortably seated upon the broad balcony overlooking the
lake, the three men sat waiting to hear their host's explanation of the
strange events they had witnessed. Lylda busied herself preparing a
light noonday meal, which she served charmingly on the balcony while
they talked.

"My friends," the Chemist began. "I tried to give you this morning, a
picture of this world and the life I have been leading here. I think you
understand, although I did not specifically say so, that all I said
related to the time when I first came here. That you would call this
life Utopia, because of the way I outlined it, I do not doubt; or at
least you would call it a state of affairs as near Utopian as any human
beings can approach.

"All that is true; it was Utopia. But gentlemen, it is so no longer.
Things have been changing of recent years, un