CHAPTER IV

THE SOUND OF A TUMULT

Graham's last impression before he fainted was of
a clamorous ringing of bells. He learnt afterwards that
he was insensible, hanging between life and death, for
the better part of an hour. When he recovered his
senses, he was back on his translucent couch, and
there was a stirring warmth at heart and throat. The
dark apparatus, he perceived, had been removed from
his arm, which was bandaged. The white framework
was still about him, but the greenish transparent
substance that had filled it was altogether gone. A man
in a deep violet robe, one of those who had been on
the balcony, was looking keenly into his face.

Remote but insistent was a clamour of bells and
confused sounds, that suggested to his mind the
picture of a great number of people shouting together.
Something seemed to fall across this tumult, a
door suddenly closed.

Graham moved his head. "What does this all
mean?" he said slowly. "Where am I?"

He saw the red-haired man who had been first to
discover him. A voice seemed to be asking what he
had said, and was abruptly stilled.