rooped across the space and rose and passed overhead, rising
to clear the mass of the Council House, a filmy translucent shape with
the solitary aeronaut peering down through its ribs. It vanished beyond
the skyline of the ruins.

Graham transferred his attention to Ostrog. He was signalling with his
hands, and his attendants busy breaking down the wall beside him. In
another moment the aeropile came into view again, a little thing far
away, coming round in a wide curve and going slower.

Then suddenly the man in yellow shouted: "What are they doing? What are
the people doing? Why is Ostrog left there? Why is he not captured? They
will lift him--the aeropile will lift him! Ah!"

The exclamation was echoed by a shout from the ruins. The rattling sound
of the green weapons drifted across the intervening gulf to Graham, and,
looking down, he saw a number of black and yellow uniforms running along
one of the galleries that lay open to the air below the promontory
upon which Ostrog stood. They fired as they ran at men unseen, and then
emerged a number of pale blue figures in pursuit. These minute fighting
figures had the oddest effect; they seemed as they ran like little model
soldiers in a toy. This queer appearance of a house cut open gave that
struggle amidst furniture and passages a quality of unreality. It was
perhaps two hundred yards away from him, and very nearly fifty above
the heads in the ruins below. The black and yellow men ran into an
open archway, and turned and fired a volley. One of the blue pursuers
striding forward close to the edge, flung up his arms, staggered
sideways, seemed to Graham's sense to hang over the edge for several
seconds, and fell headlong down. Graham saw him strike a projecting
corner, fly out, head over heels, head over heels, and vanish behind the
red arm of the building machine.

And then a shadow came between Graham and the sun. He looked up and the
sky was clear, but he knew the aeropile had passed. Ostrog had vanished.
The man in yellow thrust before him, zealous and perspiring, pointing
and blatent.

"They are grounding!" cried the man in yellow. "They are grounding. Tell
the people to fire at him. Tell them to fire at him!"

Graham could not understand. He heard loud voices repeating these
enigmatical orders.

Suddenly over the edge of the ruins he saw the prow of the aeropile come
gliding and stop with a jerk. In a moment Graham understood that the
thing had grounded in