multitudes of people.

Wherever there was space and foothold, people swarmed, little people,
small and minutely clear, except where the sunset touched them to
indistinguishable gold. They clambered up the tottering walls, they clung
in wreaths and groups about the high-standing pillars. They swarmed along
the edges of the circle of ruins. The air was full of their shouting, and
they were pressing and swaying towards the central space.

The upper storeys of the Council House seemed deserted, not a human
being was visible. Only the drooping banner of the surrender hung
heavily against the light. The dead were within the Council House, or
hidden by the swarming people, or carried away. Graham could see only a
few neglected bodies in gaps and corners of the ruins, and amidst the
flowing water.

"Will you let them see you, Sire?" said Ostrog. "They are very anxious
to see you."

Graham hesitated, and then walked forward to where the broken verge of
wall dropped sheer. He stood looking down, a lonely, tall, black figure
against the sky.

Very slowly the swarming ruins became aware of him. And as they did so
little bands of black-uniformed men appeared remotely, thrusting through
the crowds towards the Council House. He saw little black heads become
pink, looking at him, saw by that means a wave of recognition sweep
across the space. It occurred to him that he should accord them some
recognition. He held up his arm, then pointed to the Council House and
dropped his hand. The voices below became unanimous, gathered volume,