“I want to see more of that,” cried Graham, resisting.

“No, no,” cried Howard, still gripping his arm.  “This way.  You must go this way.”  And the men in red following them seemed ready to enforce his orders.

Some negroes in a curious wasp-like uniform of black and yellow appeared down the passage, and one hastened to throw up a sliding shutter that had seemed a door to Graham, and led the way through it.  Graham found himself in a gallery overhanging the end of a great chamber.  The attendant in black and yellow crossed this, thrust up a second shutter and stood waiting.

This place had the appearance of an ante-room.  He saw a number of people in the central space, and at the opposite end a large and imposing doorway at the top of a flight of steps, heavily curtained but giving a glimpse of some still larger hall beyond.  He perceived white men in red and other negroes in black and yellow standing stiffly about those portals.

As they crossed the gallery he heard a whisper from below, “The Sleeper,” and was aware of a turning of heads, a hum of observation.  They entered another little passage in the wall of this ante-chamber, and then he found himself on an iron-railed gallery of metal that passed round the side of the great hall he had already seen through the curtains.  He entered the place at the corner, so that he received the fullest impression of its huge proportions.  The black in the wasp uniform stood aside like a well-trained servant, and closed the valve behind him.

Compared with any of the places Graham had seen thus far, this second hall appeared to be decorated with extreme richness.  On a pedestal at the remoter end, and more brilliantly lit than any other object, was a gigantic white figure of Atlas, strong and strenuous, the globe upon his bowed shoulders.  It was the first thing to strike his attention, it was so vast, so patiently and painfully real, so white and simple.  Save for this figure and for a dais in the centre, the wide floor of the place was a shining vacancy.  The dais was remote in the greatness of the area; it would have looked a mere slab of metal had it not been for the group of seven men who stood about a table on it, and gave an inkling of its proportions.  They were all dressed in white robes, they seemed to have arisen that moment from their seats, and they were regarding Graham steadfastly.  At the end of the table he perceived the glitter of some mechanical appliances.

Howard led him along the end gallery until they were opposite this mighty labouring figure.  Then he stopped.  The two men in red who had followed them into the gallery came and stood on either hand of Graham.

“You must remain here,” murmured Howard, “for a few moments,” and, without waiting for a reply, hurried away along the gallery.

“But, why—?” began Graham.

He moved as if to follow Howard, and found his path obstructed by one of the men in red.  “You have to wait here, Sire,” said the man in red.