She lay in deep oblivion, in the great, mild solemnity of death, and from the depths of her unconsciousness she was not awakened even by the roaring voice of the mob which was erecting a bonfire for the witch, before the cathedral. CHAPTER XX “Freder—!!! Grot—!!! Freder—!!!” Josaphat shouted so that his voice cracked, and raced with the bounds of a harried wolf, through passages, across steps of the great pump-works. His shouts were not heard. In the machine-rooms were wounded machines in agony, wanting to obey and not being able. The door was closed. Josaphat hammered against it with his fists, with his feet. It was Grot who opened it to him, revolver in hand. “What in the name of seething hell....” “Get out of the way—! Where’s Freder—?” “Here! What’s the matter?” “Freder, they’ve taken Maria captive—” “What?” “They’ve taken Maria captive and they’re killing her—!” Freder reeled. Josaphat dragged him towards the door. Like a log, Grot stood in his way, his lips mumbling, his eyes glaring. “The woman who killed my machine—!” “Shut up, you fool—get out of the way!” “Grot!” A sound born half of madness.... “Yes, Mr. Freder!” “You stop with the machines!” “Yes, Mr. Freder!” “Come on, Josaphat—!” The sound of running, running, retreating, ghost-like. Grot turned round. He saw the paralysed machines. He lifted his arm and struck the machine with the full of his fist, as one strikes a stubborn horse between the eyes. “The woman,” he shouted with a howl, “who saved my little children—!” And he flung himself upon the machine with grinding teeth.... “Tell me—!” said Freder, almost softly. It was as if he did not want to waste an atom of strength. His face was a white stone in which his two eyes flamed like jewels. He jumped to the wheel of the little car in which Josaphat had come. For the pump-works lay at the extreme end of the great Metropolis. It was still night. The car started. “We must go terribly out of our way,” said Josaphat, fixing the flashlight. “Many bridges between the houseblocks are blown up....” “Tell me,” said Freder. His teeth met, chattering, as if he were cold. “I don’t know who found it out.... Probably the women, who were thinking of their children and wanted to get home. You can’t get anything out of the raving multitude. But anyway: When they saw the black water running towards them from the shafts of the underground railway, and when they realised that the pump-works, the safe-guard of their city, had been destroyed by the stopping of the machines, then they went mad with despair. They say that some mothers, blind and deaf to all remonstrance, tried, as if possessed, to dive down through the flooded shafts, and just the terrible absoluteness of the futility of any attempt at rescue has turned them into beasts and they lust for revenge....” “Revenge ... on whom?” “On the girl who seduced them....” “On the girl...?” “Go on....”