They had made an arrangement, before parting, that everything--letters, wireless, and all other messages--should be sent in code, and to an address, and under a name that should not be recognized as having any connection with the 'Courier'--"if," Ralph had added quietly, "there are no demons present here who can divulge our talk." This was always one of the difficulties that the godly, at that time, had to contend with, the ignorance of how far _invisible_ demons could spy upon, and report their sayings and doings. Hour by hour, the streets grew denser, for each hour brought new arrivals, and always some of the _elite_ of the earth. To George Bullen, with the journalist instinct, there was "copy" everywhere, and he was not slow to take full notes. Things were quieter from one to four, for the heat, in the open, was almost unbearable. At four o'clock, Bullen was close by the chief gate of the Temple. He would watch the arrival of the chief actors in the first part of the great ceremonies. Through the mighty hosts of acclaiming peoples which lined that wide marble upward road, King after King rode, all on white horses. Merchant princes from Babylon; Royal princes from many lands. The last of the Kings to arrive was the King of Syria. At the gate, close to where George Bullen was standing, the horse of the Syrian monarch grew restive. Quick to seize an opportunity of getting into the Temple to see the ceremony, George caught the rein of the horse, and with a soothing word and touch, led the beast through the gate, flinging back a word in Syrian to the King in the saddle. Hearing his own tongue, and noting the garb of his horse's leader, the King flung a word of thanks to George, who led the horse right up to the door of the sanctuary. Each monarch kept his saddle. Five were drawn up on one side, and five on the other. They waited for Apleon. A moment or two only, then amid a thunder of acclaim of "Long live the World's Emperor!" Lucien Apleon, the Anti-christ, the Man of Sin, riding a jet black horse, cantered through the gate. He was a marvellous figure of a man. In stature he was nearer seven feet than six. His form as erect as a Venetian mast. His costume was strange, but very striking, and gave him a regality of appearance.