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As he rushed past he saw the face of

Ostrog's aeronaut confident and cool and in Ostrog's attitude a wincing

resolution. Ostrog was looking steadfastly away from him--to the south.

He realized with a gleam of wrath how bungling his flight must be. Below

he saw the Croyden hills. He jerked upward and once more he gained on

his enemy.

He glanced over his shoulder and his attention was arrested by a strange

thing. The eastward stage, the one on Shooter's Hill, appeared to lift;

a flash changing to a tall grey shape, a cowled figure of smoke and

dust, jerked into the air. For a moment this cowled figure stood

motionless, dropping huge masses of metal from its shoulders, and then

it began to uncoil a dense head of smoke. The people had blown it up,

aeroplane and all! As suddenly a second flash and grey shape sprang

up from the Norwood stage. And even as he stared at this came a dead

report, and the air wave of the first explosion struck him. He was flung

up and sideways.

For a moment the aeropile fell nearly edgewise with her nose down,

and seemed to hesitate whether to overset altogether. He stood on his

wind-shield wrenching the wheel that swayed up over his head. And then

the shock of the second explosion took his machine sideways.

He found himself clinging to one of the ribs of his machine, and the air

was blowing past him and upward. He seemed to be hanging quite still in

the air, with the wind blowing up past him. It occurred to him that he

was falling. Then he was sure that he was falling. He could not look

down.

He found himself recapitulating with incredible swiftness all that had

happened since his awakening, the days of doubt the days of Empire, and

at last the tumultuous discovery of Ostrog's calculated treachery, he

was beaten but London was saved. London was saved!

The thought had a quality of utter unreality. Who was he? Why was he

holding so tightly with his hands? Why could he not leave go? In such

a fall as this countless dreams have ended. But in a moment he would

wake....

His thoughts ran swifter and swifter. He wondered if he should see Helen

again. It seemed so unreasonable that he should not see her again. It

_must_ be a dream! Yet surely he would meet her. She at least was real.

She was real. He would wake and meet her.

Although he could not look at it, he was suddenly aware that the earth

was very near.

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