When the Sleeper Wakes Read online

  CHAPTER VIII. THE ROOF SPACES

  As the fans in the circular aperture of the inner room rotated andpermitted glimpses of the night, dim sounds drifted in thereby. AndGraham, standing underneath, wrestling darkly with the unknown powersthat imprisoned him, and which he had now deliberately challenged, wasstartled by the sound of a voice.

  He peered up and saw in the intervals of the rotation, dark and dim,the face and shoulders of a man regarding him. When a dark hand wasextended, the swift fan struck it, swung round and beat on with a littlebrownish patch on the edge of its thin blade, and something began tofall therefrom upon the floor, dripping silently.

  Graham looked down, and there were spots of blood at his feet. He lookedup again in a strange excitement. The figure had gone.

  He remained motionless--his every sense intent upon the flickering patchof darkness, for outside it was high night. He became aware of somefaint, remote, dark specks floating lightly through the outer air. Theycame down towards him, fitfully, eddyingly, and passed aside out ofthe uprush from the fan. A gleam of light flickered, the specks flashedwhite, and then the darkness came again. Warmed and lit as he was, heperceived that it was snowing within a few feet of him.

  Graham walked across the room and came back to the ventilator again. Hesaw the head of a man pass near. There was a sound of whispering. Thena smart blow on some metallic substance, effort, voices, and the vansstopped. A gust of snowflakes whirled into the room, and vanished beforethey touched the floor. "Don't be afraid," said a voice.

  Graham stood under the fan. "Who are you?" he whispered.

  For a moment there was nothing but a swaying of the fan, and then thehead of a man was thrust cautiously into the opening. His face appearednearly inverted to Graham; his dark hair was wet with dissolving flakesof snow upon it. His arm went up into the darkness holding somethingunseen. He had a youthful face and bright eyes, and the veins of hisforehead were swollen. He seemed to be exerting himself to maintain hisposition.

  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 wastowards Graham. He appeared to be listening. Suddenly there was a hastyexclamation, and the intruder sprang back just in time to escape thesweep of the released fan. And when Graham peered up there was nothingvisible but the slowly falling snow.

  It was perhaps a quarter of an hour before anything returned to theventilator. But at last came the same metallic interference again; thefans stopped and the face reappeared. Graham had remained all this timein the same place, alert and tremulously excited.

  "Who are you? What do you want?" he said.

  "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 toyou 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 wasbleeding. His knees came into view over the edge of the funnel. "Standaway from me," he said, and he dropped rather heavily on his hands andone shoulder at Graham's feet. The released ventilator whirled noisily.The stranger rolled over, sprang up nimbly and stood panting, hand to abruised shoulder, and with his bright eyes on Graham.

  "You are indeed the Sleeper," he said. "I saw you asleep. When it wasthe law that anyone might see you."

  "I am the man who was in the trance," said Graham. "They have imprisonedme here. I have been here since I awoke--at least three days."

  The intruder seemed about to speak, heard something, glanced swiftly atthe door, and suddenly left Graham and ran towards it, shouting quickincoherent words. A bright wedge of steel flashed in his hand, and hebegan 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 theshoulder by one of them, and a heavy weight bore him to the earth. Hefell on his knees and forward, and the weight went over his head. Heknelt up and saw a second man from above seated before him.

  "I did not see you, Sire," panted the man. He rose and assisted Grahamto arise. "Are you hurt, Sire?" he panted. A succession of heavy blowson the ventilator began, something fell close to Graham's face, and ashivering edge of white metal danced, fell over, and lay flat upon thefloor.

  "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 ventilatoras another fragment of metal fell heavily.

  "We want you to come, Sire," panted the newcomer, and Graham glancingat his face again, saw a new cut had changed from white to red on hisforehead, 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 havespies. We learned but just in time. The Council has decided--this veryday--either to drug or kill you. And everything is ready. The people aredrilled, the wind-vane police, the engineers, and half the way-gearersare with us. We have the halls crowded--shouting. The whole city shoutsagainst the Council. We have arms." He wiped the blood with his 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 hissingwith his teeth. Graham saw the latter start back, gesticulate to them toconceal 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 heavyface downcast. He started, looked up, the door slammed behind him, thetray tilted sideways, and the steel wedge struck him behind the ear. Hewent down like a felled tree, and lay as he fell athwart the floor ofthe outer room. The man who had struck him bent hastily, studied hisface 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 lightshad been extinguished. Graham saw the aperture of the ventilator withghostly snow whirling above it and dark figures moving hastily. Threeknelt on the fan. Some dim thing--a ladder was being lowered through theopening, and a hand appeared holding a fitful yellow light.

  He had a moment of hesitation. But the manner of these men, their swiftalacrity, their words, marched so completely with his own fears ofthe Council, with his idea and hope of a rescue, that it lasted not amoment. 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 thelower rung, and, turning his head, saw over the shoulder of the nearestman, in the yellow flicker of the light, the first-comer astride overHoward 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 thenhe was standing on something hard and cold and slippery outside theventilating funnel.

  He shivered. He was aware of a great difference in the temperature. Halfa dozen men stood about him, and light flakes of snow touched hands andface and melted. For a moment it was dark, then for a flash a ghastlyviolet white, and then everything was dark again.

  He saw he had come out upon the roof of the vast city structure whichhad replaced the miscellaneous houses, streets and open spaces ofVictorian London. The place upon which he stood was level, with hugeserpentine cables lying athwart it in every dire
ction. The circularwheels of a number of windmills loomed indistinct and gigantic throughthe darkness and snowfall, and roared with a varying loudness as thefitful white light smote up from below, touched the snow eddies with atransient glitter, and made an evanescent spectre in the night; andhere and there, low down! some vaguely outlined wind-driven mechanismflickered with livid sparks.

  All this he appreciated in a fragmentary manner as his rescuers stoodabout him. Someone threw a thick soft cloak of fur-like texture abouthim, and fastened it by buckled straps at waist and shoulders. Thingswere said briefly, decisively. Someone thrust him forward.

  Before his mind was yet clear a dark shape gripped his arm. "This way,"said this shape, urging him along, and pointed Graham across the flatroof in the direction of a dim semicircular haze of light. Grahamobeyed.

  "Mind!" said a voice, as Graham stumbled against a cable. "Between themand not across them," said the voice. And, "We must hurry."

  "Where are the people?" said Graham. "The people you said awaited me?"

  The stranger did not answer. He left Graham's arm as the path grewnarrower, and led the way with rapid strides. Graham followed blindly.In a minute he found himself running. "Are the others coming?" hepanted, but received no reply. His companion glanced back and ran on.They came to a sort of pathway of open metal-work, transverse to thedirection they had come, and they turned aside to follow this. Grahamlooked back, but the snowstorm had hidden the others.

  "Come on!" said his guide. Running now, they drew near a little windmillspinning high in the air. "Stoop," said Graham's guide, and they avoidedan endless band running roaring up to the shaft of the vane. "Thisway!" and they were ankle deep in a gutter full of drifted thawing snow,between two low walls of metal that presently rose waist high. "I willgo first," said the guide. Graham drew his cloak about him and followed.Then suddenly came a narrow abyss across which the gutter leapt to thesnowy darkness of the further side. Graham peeped over the side once andthe gulf was black. For a moment he regretted his flight. He dared notlook again, and his brain spun as he waded through the half liquid snow.

  Then out of the gutter they clambered and hurried across a wide flatspace damp with thawing snow, and for half its extent dimly translucentto lights that went to and fro underneath. He hesitated at this unstablelooking substance, but his guide ran on unheeding, and so they came toand clambered up slippery steps to the rim of a great dome of glass.Round this they went. Far below a number of people seemed to be dancing,and music filtered through the dome.... Graham fancied he heard ashouting through the snowstorm, and his guide hurried him on with a newspurt of haste. They clambered panting to a space of huge windmills, oneso vast that only the lower edge of its vans came rushing into sight andrushed up again and was lost in the night and the snow. They hurried fora time through the colossal metallic tracery of its supports, and cameat last above a place of moving platforms like the place into whichGraham had looked from the balcony. They crawled across the slopingtransparency that covered this street of platforms, crawling on handsand knees because of the slipperiness of the snowfall.

  For the most part the glass was bedewed, and Graham saw only hazysuggestions of the forms below, but near the pitch of the transparentroof the glass was clear, and he found himself looking sheerly down uponit all. For awhile, in spite of the urgency of his guide, he gave wayto vertigo and lay spread-eagled on the glass, sick and paralysed. Farbelow, mere stirring specks and dots, went the people of the unsleepingcity in their perpetual daylight, and the moving platforms ran on theirincessant journey. Messengers and men on unknown businesses shot alongthe drooping cables and the frail bridges were crowded with men. It waslike peering into a gigantic glass hive, and it lay vertically below himwith only a tough glass of unknown thickness to save him from a fall.The street showed warm and lit, and Graham was wet now to the skin withthawing snow, and his feet were numbed with cold. For a space he couldnot move.

  "Come on!" cried his guide, with terror in his voice. "Come on!"

  Graham reached the pitch of the roof by an effort.

  Over the ridge, following his guide's example, he turned about and slidbackward down the opposite slope very swiftly, amid a little avalancheof snow While he was sliding he thought of what would happen if somebroken gap should come in his way. At the edge he stumbled to his feetankle deep in slush thanking heaven for an opaque footing again. Hisguide was already clambering up a metal screen to a level expanse.

  Through the spare snowflakes above this loomed another line of vastwindmills, and then suddenly the amorphous tumult of the rotating wheelswas pierced with a deafening sound. It was a mechanical shrilling ofextraordinary intensity that seemed to come simultaneously from everypoint of the compass.

  "They have missed us already!" cried Graham's guide in an accent ofterror, and suddenly, with a blinding flash, the night became day.

  Above the driving snow, from the summits of the wind-wheels, appearedvast masts carrying globes of livid light. They receded in illimitablevistas in every direction. As far as his eye could penetrate thesnowfall they glared.

  "Get on this," cried Graham's conductor, and thrust him forward to along grating of snowless metal that ran like a band between two slightlysloping expanses of snow. It felt warm to Graham's benurrled feet, and afaint eddy of steam rose from it.

  "Come on!" shouted his guide ten yards off, and, without waiting, ranswiftly through the incandescent glare towards the iron supports of thenext range of wind-wheels. Graham, recovering from his astonishment,followed as fast, convinced of his imminent capture.

  In a score of seconds they were within a tracery of glare and blackshadows shot with moving bars beneath the monstrous wheels. Graham'sconductor ran on for some time, and suddenly darted sideways andvanished into a black shadow in the corner of the foot of a hugesupport. In another moment Graham was beside him.

  They cowered panting and stared out.

  The scene upon which Graham looked was very wild and strange. The snowhad now almost ceased; only a belated flake passed now and again acrossthe picture. But the broad stretch of level before them was a ghastlywhite, broken only by gigantic masses and moving shapes and lengthystrips of impenetrable darkness, vast ungainly Titans of shadow. Allabout them, huge metallic structures, iron girders, inhumanly vast as itseemed to him, interlaced, and the edges of wind-wheels, scarcely movingin the lull, passed in great shining curves steeper and steeper upinto a luminous haze. Wherever the snow-spangled light struck down,beams and girders, and incessant bands running with a halting,indomitable resolution passed upward and downward into the black. Andwith all that mighty activity, with an omnipresent sense of motive anddesign, this snow-clad desolation of mechanism seemed void of allhuman presence save themselves, seemed as trackless and deserted andunfrequented by men as some inaccessible Alpine snowfield.

  "They will be chasing us," cried the leader. "We are scarcely halfwaythere yet. Cold as it is we must hide here for a space--at least untilit snows more thickly again."

  His teeth chattered in his head.

  "Where are the markets?" asked Graham staring out. "Where are all thepeople?"

  The other made no answer.

  "Look!" whispered Graham, crouched close, and became very still.

  The snow had suddenly become thick again, and sliding with the whirlingeddies out of the black pit of the sky came something, vague and largeand very swift. It came down in a steep curve and swept round, widewings extended and a trail of white condensing steam behind it, rosewith an easy swiftness and went gliding up the air, swept horizontallyforward in a wide curve, and vanished again in the steaming specks ofsnow. And, through the ribs of its body, Graham saw two little men, veryminute and active, searching the snowy areas about him, as it seemed tohim, with field glasses. For a second they were clear, then hazy througha thick whirl of snow, then small and distant, and in a minute they weregone.

  "Now!" cried his companion. "Come!"

  He pulled Graham's sleeve, and incontinently the
two were runningheadlong down the arcade of ironwork beneath the wind-wheels. Graham,running blindly, collided with his leader, who had turned back on himsuddenly. He found himself within a dozen yards of a black chasm. Itextended as far as he could see right and left. It seemed to cut offtheir progress in either direction.

  "Do as I do," whispered his guide. He lay down and crawled to the edge,thrust his head over and twisted until one leg hung. He seemed to feelfor something with his foot, found it, and went sliding over the edgeinto the gulf. His head reappeared. "It is a ledge," he whispered. "Inthe dark all the way along. Do as I did."

  Graham hesitated, went down upon all fours, crawled to the edge, andpeered into a velvety blackness. For a sickly moment he had courageneither to go on nor retreat, then he sat and hung his leg down, felthis guide's hands pulling at him, had a horrible sensation of slidingover the edge into the unfathomable, splashed, and felt himself in aslushy gutter, impenetrably dark.

  "This way," whispered the voice, and he began crawling along the gutterthrough the trickling thaw, pressing himself against the wall. Theycontinued along it for some minutes. He seemed to pass through a hundredstages of misery, to pass minute after minute through a hundred degreesof cold, damp, and exhaustion. In a little while he ceased to feel hishands and feet.

  The gutter sloped downwards. He observed that they were now many feetbelow the edge of the buildings. Rows of spectral white shapes like theghosts of blind-drawn windows rose above them. They came to the end ofa cable fastened above one of these white windows, dimly visible anddropping into impenetrable shadows. Suddenly his hand came against hisguide's.

  "Still!" whispered the latter very softly.

  He looked up with a start and saw the huge wings of the flying machinegliding slowly and noiselessly overhead athwart the broad band ofsnow-flecked grey-blue sky. In a moment it was hidden again.

  "Keep still; they were just turning."

  For awhile both were motionless, then Graham's companion stood up,and reaching towards the fastenings of the cable fumbled with someindistinct tackle.

  "What is that?" asked Graham.

  The only answer was a faint cry. The man crouched motionless. Grahampeered and saw his face dimly. He was staring down the long ribbon ofsky, and Graham, following his eyes, saw the flying machine small andfaint and remote. Then he saw that the wings spread on either side,that it headed towards them, that every moment it grew larger. It wasfollowing the edge of the chasm towards them.

  The man's movements became convulsive. He thrust two cross bars intoGraham's hand. Graham could not see them, he ascertained their form byfeeling. They were slung by thin cords to the cable. On the cord werehand grips of some soft elastic substance. "Put the cross between yourlegs," whispered the guide hysterically, "and grip the holdfasts. Griptightly, grip!"

  Graham did as he was told.

  "Jump," said the voice. "In heaven's name, jump!"

  For one momentous second Graham could not speak. He was glad afterwardsthat darkness hid his face. He said nothing. He began to trembleviolently. He looked sideways at the swift shadow that swallowed up thesky as it rushed upon him.

  "Jump! Jump--in God's name! Or they will have us," cried Graham's guide,and in the violence of his passion thrust him forward.

  Graham tottered convulsively, gave a sobbing cry, a cry in spite ofhimself, and then, as the flying machine swept over them, fell forwardinto the pit of that darkness, seated on the cross wood and holdingthe ropes with the clutch of death. Something cracked, something rappedsmartly against a wall. He heard the pulley of the cradle hum on itsrope. He heard the aeronauts shout. He felt a pair of knees digging intohis back.... He was sweeping headlong through the air, falling throughthe air. All his strength was in his hands. He would have screamed buthe had no breath.

  He shot into a blinding light that made him grip the tighter. Herecognised the great passage with the running ways, the hanging lightsand interlacing girders. They rushed upward and by him. He had amomentary impression of a great circular aperture yawning to swallow himup.

  He was in the dark again, falling, falling, gripping with aching hands,and behold! a clap of sound, a burst of light, and he was in a brightlylit hall with a roaring multitude of people beneath his feet. Thepeople! His people! A proscenium, a stage rushed up towards him, and hiscable swept down to a circular aperture to the right of this. He felt hewas travelling slower, and suddenly very much slower. He distinguishedshouts of "Saved! The Master. He is safe!" The stage rushed up towardshim with rapidly diminishing swiftness. Then--

  He heard the man clinging behind him shout as if suddenly terrified,and this shout was echoed by a shout from below. He felt that he was nolonger gliding along the cable but falling with it. There was a tumultof yells, screams and cries. He felt something soft against his extendedhand, and the impact of a broken fall quivering through his arm...

  He wanted to be still and the people were lifting him. He believedafterwards he was carried to the platform and given some drink, but hewas never sure. He did not notice what became of his guide. When hismind was clear again he was on his feet; eager hands were assisting himto stand. He was in a big alcove, occupying the position that in hisprevious experience had been devoted to the lower boxes. If this wasindeed a theatre.

  A mighty tumult was in his ears, a thunderous roar, the shouting of acountless multitude. "It is the Sleeper! The Sleeper is with us!"

  "The Sleeper is with us! The Master--the Owner! The Master is with us.He is safe."

  Graham had a surging vision of a great hall crowded with people. He sawno individuals, he was conscious of a froth of pink faces, of wavingarms and garments, he felt the occult influence of a vast crowd pouringover him, buoying him up. There were balconies, galleries, greatarchways giving remoter perspectives, and everywhere people, a vastarena of people, densely packed and cheering. Across the nearer spacelay the collapsed cable like a huge snake. It had been cut by the menof the flying machine at its upper end, and had crumpled down into thehall. Men seemed to be hauling this out of the way. But the whole effectwas vague, the very buildings throbbed and leapt with the roar of thevoices.

  He stood unsteadily and looked at those about him. Someone supported himby one arm. "Let me go into a little room," he said, weeping; "a littleroom," and could say no more. A man in black stepped forward, took hisdisengaged arm. He was aware of officious men opening a door beforehim. Someone guided him to a seat. He staggered. He sat down heavily andcovered his face with his hands; he was trembling violently, his nervouscontrol was at an end. He was relieved of his cloak, he could notremember how; his purple hose he saw were black with wet. People wererunning about him, things were happening, but for some time he gave noheed to them.

  He had escaped. A myriad of cries told him that. He was safe. These werethe people who were on his side. For a space he sobbed for breath,and then he sat still with his face covered. The air was full of theshouting of innumerable men.