from the streets, growing momentarily as he advanced, met his ears. He
made his way with the utmost caution down the corridor. At the head of
the stairs he paused and listened. Below him, the hall where they had
gathered was dark and still, but through opened doors and windows on the
far side of the building came the sound of a great throng moving farther
and farther into the distance.

He made his way down the creaking wooden stairs, dreading yet longing to
meet some straggler who should point the way, but finding no one; across
the dark hall, so lately thronged with living, moving things, and out
through the opened front doors into the street. He could not believe
that he was really left behind, really forgotten, that he had been
purposely permitted to escape. It perplexed him.

Nervously he peered about him, and up and down the street; then, seeing
nothing, advanced slowly down the pavement.

The whole town, as he went, showed itself empty and deserted, as though
a great wind had blown everything alive out of it. The doors and windows
of the houses stood open to the night; nothing stirred; moonlight and
silence lay over all. The night lay about him like a cloak. The air,
soft and cool, caressed his cheek like the touch of a great furry paw.
He gained confidence and began to walk quickly, though still keeping to
the shadowed side. Nowhere could he discover the faintest sign of the
great unholy exodus he knew had just taken place. The moon sailed high
over all in a sky cloudless and serene.

Hardly realising where he was going, he crossed the open market-place
and so came to the ramparts, whence he knew a pathway descended to the
high road and along which he could make good his escape to one of the