We started. The streets at the foot of the Mound were deserted; narrow, rocky streets, hemmed in by the stone walls of the low houses. It was dim; there were apparently no public lights, only the occasional glow from a house window, doorway or roof-top. We walked swiftly, Fen leading with his vigorous stride. The air in the streets was hot, moist and oppressive. I felt that queer, different thrust of gravity upon me, but I was getting used to it now. I walked like the others, with a solid, plowing tread. We turned a corner and were soon upon the upward slope. I had expected to find it different, walking uphill in this oppressive air. It was not; I noticed, indeed, very little difference from walking on the level ground. * * * * * Tad was beside me. “Listen to it, Jeff. Raising the devil up there--” We were still some half mile from the Castle. Cries sounded, occasional screams ringing clear; and the low, blended murmur of the mob. But the street here was empty and soundless. In our sandals we padded over its stones. There were street corners, yawning, empty and dark. Black shadows where low archways opened like tunnel mouths into the house. A woman with a baby in her arms came to a window and gazed at us. Her white face, caught by an inner light was close to me as we passed. Her eyes were stark black with fear. At a corner a group of men went running past and swung up the hill. They were small, white-skinned folk, and they shouted at Fen. We followed. As we advanced, the murmur of the mob up ahead sounded clearer. The streets soon were filled. We passed a man, blind and seemingly in a frenzy of fear. He staggered through the crowd. Some one caught him, fought him, led him away. There were white forms lying in the street. The mob had evidently surged down this far in its first blind panic and many were crushed. We passed the slim white figure of a man whom some one had carried to his own doorstep and dropped. A wailing woman knelt over him; a little girl, curious, half frightened, stood beside the woman, plucking at her robe. The servant, Bhool, kept close beside me now. His touch strangely angered me; once, I thrust him away. We forced ourselves into the crowd. No one seemed to notice us. When we came to the palisade, Fen saw an opening in the jam. “All of us keep together.” He forced his way forward. We found a place to climb. It was a metallic fence some six feet high. Upon impulse I put my hands on its top and tried to vault. I sailed over it with astonishing ease, and landed lightly on the other side. The garden was crowded with people, but there was more room here than in the upper street. Small, upright shrubs stood about, some vaguely white with blossoms. In the gloom it was hard to tell them from the human forms.