His mind passed from Brun's generalizations to the little bundle of people whom he knew--Rachel, Francis, Roddy, Lizzie Rand. To all of them the Tiger's moment had come; and out of it all, out of the stress and suffering and struggle, Rachel's child was to be born--instead of the Duchess the new generation. Instead of this old house, the hooded furniture, the anger at all freedom of thought, the jealousy of all enterprise, the slander and the malice, an age of a universal Brotherhood, of unselfishness, restraint, charity, tolerance ... Perhaps after all, he _was_ an old, sentimental fool. There had always been those at every birth and every death who had had their dreams of new human nature, new worlds, new virtues and moralities.... He looked his last at the Portrait-- "I'm nearly as old as you. I shall go soon. But I miss you ... you'd be yourself surprised if you knew how much!" He took up the lamp and left her.... He said good night to Mrs. Newton and closed the door behind him. Standing on the steps of the house he looked about him. Portland Place was like a broad river running silently into the dark trees at the end of it. There was a great rest and quiet here. Southwards the sky flamed, the noise of a great multitude of people came muffled across space with the rhythm in it of a beating song. Rockets slashed the sky, broke into golden stars; the bells from all the churches in the town clashed and, from some great distance, guns solemnly booming rolled through the air. Christopher, standing there, smiled as he thought of Brun's little picture. Brun springing up, of course, at the right moment, to point his moral. Brun, who appeared, like some Jack-in-the-box, in city after city, with his conclusion, his prophecy, neat and prepared. "And we'll have fires out of the Grand Duke's Wood..." There was the Wood, there the mob, there the Grand Duke, dead and buried-- Christopher shrugged his shoulders; whatever Brun might say human beings were more than summaries, prophecies, conclusions. As he looked towards the trees and felt a little breeze caress his face with, he could swear, some salt of the sea, he thought of the human beings who were his friends--Rachel, Roddy, Lizzie, Francis. And then it seemed to him that, out of the trees, down the shining surface of Portland Place, a figure came towards him--the figure of Rachel's child. * * * * * NOVELS BY HUGH WALPOLE _STUDIES IN PLACE_ THE WOODEN HORSE MARADICK AT FORTY THE GODS AND MR. PERRIN _TWO PROLOGUES_ THE PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE FORTITUDE _THE RISING CITY_ 1. THE DUCHESS OF WREXE 2. THE GREEN MIRROR (_In preparation_)