[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Graham walked across the room and came back to the ventilator again. He saw the head of a man pass near.
There was a sound of whispering. Then a smart blow on some metallic substance, effort, voices, and the vanes
stopped. A gust of snowflakes whirled into the room, and vanished before they touched the floor. "Don't be
afraid," said a voice.
Graham stood under the vane. "Who are you?" he whispered.
For a moment there was nothing but a swaying of the fan, and then the head of a man was thrust cautiously
into the opening. His face appeared nearly inverted to Graham; his dark hair was wet with dissolving flakes of
snow upon it. His arm went up into the darkness holding something unseen. He had a youthful face and bright
eyes, and the veins of his forehead were swollen. He seemed to be exerting himself to maintain his position.
For several seconds neither he nor Graham spoke.
"You were the Sleeper?" said the stranger at last.
"Yes," said Graham. "What do you want with me?"
"I come from Ostrog, Sire."
"Ostrog?"
The man in the ventilator twisted his head round so that his profile was towards Graham. He appeared to be
listening. Suddenly there was a hasty exclamation, and the intruder sprang back just in time to escape the
sweep of the released fan. And when Graham peered up there was nothing visible but the slowly falling snow.
It was perhaps a quarter of an hour before anything returned to the ventilator. But at last came the same
metallic interference again; the fans stopped and the face reappeared. Graham had remained all this time in the
same place, alert and tremulously excited.
"Who are you? What do you want?" he said.
CHAPTER VIII 43
"We want to speak to you, Sire," said the intruder. "We want--I can't hold the thing. We have been trying to
find a way to you--these three days."
"Is it rescue?" whispered Graham. "Escape?"
"Yes, Sire. If you will."
"You are my party--the party of the Sleeper?"
"Yes, Sire."
"What am I to do?" said Graham.
There was a struggle. The stranger's arm appeared, and his hand was bleeding. His knees came into view over
the edge of the funnel. "Stand away from me," he said, and he dropped rather heavily on his hands and one
shoulder at Graham's feet. The released ventilator whirled noisily. The stranger rolled over, sprang up nimbly
and stood panting, hand to a bruised shoulder, and with his bright eyes on Graham.
"You are indeed the Sleeper," he said. "I saw you asleep. When it was the law that anyone might see you."
"I am the man who was in the trance," said Graham. "They have imprisoned me here. I have been here since I
awoke--at least three days."
The intruder seemed about to speak, heard something, glanced swiftly at the door, and suddenly left Graham
and ran towards it, shouting quick incoherent words. A bright wedge of steel flashed in his hand, and he began
tap, tap, a quick succession of blows upon the hinges. "Mind!" cried a voice. "Oh!" The voice came from
above.
Graham glanced up, saw the soles of two feet, ducked, was struck on the shoulder by one of them, and a
heavy weight bore him to the earth. He fell on his knees and forward, and the weight went over his head. He
knelt up and saw a second man from above seated before him.
"I did not see you, Sire," panted the man. He rose and assisted Graham to rise. "Are you hurt, Sire?" he
panted. A succession of heavy blows on the ventilator began, something fell close to Graham's face, and a
shivering edge of white metal danced, fell over, and lay fiat upon the floor.
"What is this?" cried Graham, confused and looking at the ventilator. "Who are you? What are you going to
do? Remember, I understand nothing."
"Stand back," said the stranger, and drew him from under the ventilator as another fragment of metal fell
heavily.
"We want you to come, Sire," panted the newcomer, and Graham glancing at his face again, saw a new cut
had changed from white to red on his forehead, and a couple of little trickles of blood starting therefrom.
"Your people call for you."
"Come where? My people?"
"To the hall about the markets. Your life is in danger here. We have spies. We learned but just in time. The
Council has decided--this very day--either to drug or kill you. And everything is ready. The people are drilled,
the Wind-Vane police, the engineers, and half the way-gearers are with us. We have the halls
crowded--shouting. The whole city shouts against the Council. We have arms." He wiped the blood with his
CHAPTER VIII 44
hand. "Your life here is not worth--"
"But why arms?"
"The people have risen to protect you, Sire. What?"
He turned quickly as the man who had first come down made a hissing with his teeth. Graham saw the latter
start back, gesticulate to them to conceal themselves, and move as if to hide behind the opening door.
As he did so Howard appeared, a little tray in one hand and his heavy face downcast. He started, looked up,
the door slammed behind him, the tray tilted side-ways, and the steel wedge struck him behind the ear. He
went down like a felled tree, and lay as he fell athwart the floor of the outer room. The man who had struck
him bent hastily, studied his face for a moment, rose, and returned to his work at the door.
"Your poison!" said a voice in Graham's ear.
Then abruptly they were in darkness. The innumerable cornice lights had been extinguished. Graham saw the
aperture of the ventilator with ghostly snow whirling above it and dark figures moving hastily. Three knelt on
the vane. Some dim thing--a ladder--was being lowered through the opening, and a hand appeared holding a
fitful yellow light.
He had a moment of hesitation. But the manner of these men, their swift alacrity, their words, marched so
completely with his own fears of the Council, with his idea and hope of a rescue, that it lasted not a moment.
And his people awaited him!
"I do not understand," he said. "I trust. Tell me what to do."
The man with the cut brow gripped Graham's arm. "Clamber up the ladder," he whispered. "Quick. They will
have heard--"
Graham felt for the ladder with extended hands, put his foot on the lower rung, and, turning his head, saw over
the shoulder of the nearest man, in the yellow flicker of the light, the first-comer astride over Howard and still
working at the door. Graham turned to the ladder again, and was thrust by his conductor and helped up by
those above, and then he was standing on something hard and cold and slippery outside the ventilating funnel.
He shivered. He was aware of a great difference in the temperature. Half a dozen men stood about him, and
light flakes of snow touched hands and face and melted. For a moment it was dark, then for a flash a ghastly
violet white, and then everything was dark again.
He saw he had come out upon the roof of the vast city structure which had replaced the miscellaneous houses, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]