Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 105: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE TORCH, - too. « He shook off his glance at last and his eyes met Alda’s. “You saw, too?” he muttered. “ You saw! What a woman it is—what a wo- man! To have her a man would give— everything. Even I, old as I am—” Alda bit her lip in vexation. She was accustomed to holding all eyes, and the un- conscious sincerity of both men annoyed her sharply. She glanced again at For- tune’s rapt face and became engrossed in her own thoughts. ‘ Behind Zorn and Mary there now ap- peared a half-dozen Comrades of the Torch, who bore arms. And with them were Shard the giant, and Tringe, the misshapen little man whose ugly face leered down upon the crowd in triumph. Zorn’s upraised hand brought silence to the staring throng. The last whispers died away under the low arches. Men waited the word. Zorn spoke. His voice had a musical vibration, deep-pitched, that carried it far: “Men of the Folk, I come before you in the name of that freedom that is your birthright—that freedom of which you have been shamefully robbed. You have been brought here by the Comrades of the: Torch that you may learn what are your rights and how you may take them from the Tower People who have stolen them. The hour has come to strike—” A tremendous shout drowned out Zorn’s voice. It came spontaneously from the thousands who had dreamed all their days of this hour, dreamed without daring to hope it would come to them. It was such a shout as to sweep back the little group in the balcony as if its noise had been tan- gible, and could bowl them down. It did not die instantly, but rose and fell in a long, wavering succession of cheer- ing that swept, echoing, out through ruined passages and tunnels as if it would flood every nook and niche of all the Under City. Fortune found his arm grasped tight by Wolff himself. The Great Towerman clung to him like a terrified child. Unconsciously he tried to shrug from that clutch. “Hark!” he shouted rudely at. Wolff’s ear. “‘ Listen now—listen! The bugles!” A15 Piercing the dying clamor came a new note, high-pitched, metallic, triumphant— the fanfare of trumpets! Insistent, compelling above all other noise the shrill, strident call of the trumpets rose in ecstasy, and as ears comprehended the menace of this new sound, a terrible silence fluttered down. Then the rattle of steel. The banner of the revolution was snatched away in a flash and down the great stair charged soldiers of the Tower People with drawn swords. And at the same time, from every cor- ner swords were flashing while armed men advanced. Dumb with terror, milling in a vast, swirling confusion like frightened cattle, packed in to suffocation and helpless, the Folk found themselves surrounded—be- trayed. A bellow of insane fury drew all eyes to the stair. Unarmed, leading that pitiful knot that guarded Zorn and Mary, Shard had sprung to meet the advancing soldiers. The first man he charged low and his great arms seized his legs below the thighs. The soldier was swept high in Shard’s arms, face agape, swung in a great arc and sent hurtling into the packed mass below. With a yell and clatter the soldier’s com- rades leaped to the fight. A furious knot of them struggled about the raging giant. Another body flew high over their heads and down the stair. About Shard men fell to right and left and some of them did not rise again. “Look, look!” Wolff shrilled in For- tune’s ear. “ They’ve got him—that black- robed man. They’ve got Zorn—no, oh, gods! Yes, yes, see—now_he’s fast!” “And the woman—the girl!” Frederick shouted. ‘‘ Now they’re taking her down the stair—” “Yes, and Zorn, too. They’re bringing them this way—see the Folk fall back out of their way. The dogs, pais bark no more at my soldiers.” Wolff was leaning now far from the bal- cony. “* That giant, he’s broken through. He’s gone,”’ Alda was crying. “‘ And that crooked little man—I saw him dart away, crawling COMMICLOOOKS (C@