ment by new arrivals dashing
down the alleys and courts that gave on the thoroughfare; and so with
tramp and ring of steel the pageant went forward on its way of sorrows.

* * * *

Before six o'clock Newman's Court was empty again, except for one armed
figure that stood before the shattered door of No. 3 to guard it. Inside
the house was dark again except in one room high up where the altar had
stood. Here the thick curtains against the glass had been torn down, and
the window was illuminated; every now and again the shadows on the
ceiling stirred a little as if the candle was being moved; and once the
window opened and a pale smooth face looked out for a moment, and then
withdrew again. Then the light disappeared altogether; and presently
shone out in another room on the same floor; then again after an half an
hour or so it was darkened; and again reappeared on the floor below. And
so it went on from room to room; until the noises of the waking city
began, and the stars paled and expired. Over the smokeless town the sky
began to glow clear and brilliant. The crowing of cocks awoke here and
there; a church bell or two began to sound far away over the roofs. The
pale blue overhead grew more and more luminous; the candle went out on
the first floor; the steel-clad man stretched himself and looked at the
growing dawn.

A step was heard on the stairs, and Lackington came down, carrying a
small valise apparently full to bursting. He looked paler than usual; and
a little hollow-eyed for want of sleep. He came out and stood by the
soldier, and looked about him. Everywhere the court showed signs of the
night's tumult. Crumbled ice from broken icicles and trampled frozen
pools lay powdered on the stones. Here and there on the walls were great
smears of black from the torches, and even one or two torn bits of stuff
and a crushed hat marked where the pressure had been fiercest. Most
eloquent of all was the splintered door behind him, still held fast by
one stout bolt, but leaning crookedly against the dinted wall of the
interior.

"A good night's work, friend," said Lackington to the man. "Another hive
taken, and here"--and he tapped his valise--"here I bear the best of the
honey."

The soldier looked heavily at the bag. He was tired too; and he did not
care for this kind of work.

"Well," said Lackington again, "I must be getting home safe. Keep the
door; you shall be relieved