"SHEOL"
I looked down into the dark street. I could see nothing; but
immediately a confused buzz and murmur, of motion everywhere, arose
from the depths below me. As it grew louder and clearer I could hear
the march of thousands of feet, moving rapidly; and then a number of
wagons, heavily loaded, creaked and groaned over the pavements. I
surmised that these wagons were loaded with stones, and were to be
used in the construction of the barricades. There was no music, no
shouting, not even the sound of voices; but tramp, tramp, tramp, in
endless multitude, the heavy feet went by; and now and then, where
the light yet streamed out of the window of some house, I could see
the glitter of the steel barrels of rifles; and here and there I
caught a glimpse of men on horseback, officers apparently, but
dressed in the rough garb of workmen. Along the line of the houses
near me, I could see, at opened, lighted windows, an array of pale
faces, looking out with astonishment and terror at this dark and
silent procession, which seemed to have arisen out of the earth, and
was so vast that one might dream that the trumpet of the archangel
had been blown, and all the dead of a thousand battle-fields had
risen up for one last grand review. And not alone past our doors, but
through all the streets near us, the same mighty, voiceless
procession moved on; all converging to the quarter where the
treasures of the great city lay, heaped up in safe and vault.
And then, several blocks away, but within the clear range of my
vision, a light appeared in the street--it blazed--it rose higher and
higher. I could see shadowy figures moving around it, heaping boxes,
barrels and other combustibles upon the flame. It was a bonfire,
kindled to light the work of building a barricade at that point.
Across the street a line of wagons had been placed; the tail of each
one touching the front of another, the horses having been withdrawn.
And then hundreds of busy figures were to be seen at work, tearing up
the pavements of the street and heaping the materials under the
wagons; and then shovels flew, and the earth rose over it all; a deep
ditch being excavated quite across the street, on the side near me.
Then men, lit by the red light, looked, at the distance, like hordes
of busy black insects. Behind them swarmed, as far as I could see,
thousands upon thousands of dark forms, mere masses, touched here and
there by the light of the bonfire, gleaming on glittering steel. They
were the men within the barricades. There was a confused noise in
other quarters, which I supposed was caused by the erection of a
number of similar barricades elsewhere. Then the tramp of the
marching masses past our doors ceased; and for a time the silence was
profound.
So far not a soldier or policeman had been visible. The Oligarchy
were evidently carrying out the plan of the Prince of Cabano. They
were permitting the insurgents to construct their "rat-trap" without
interruption. Only a few stragglers were upon the street, drawn there
doubtless by curiosity; and still the pale faces were at the windows;
and some even talked from window to window, and wondered what it all
meant.
Suddenly there was a terrific explosion that shook the house. I could
see a shower of stones and brick and timbers and dust, rising like a
smoke, seamed with fire, high in the air, within the lines of the
barricades. Then came another, even louder; then another, and
another, and another, until it sounded like a bombardment. Then these
ceased, and after a little time came the sounds of smaller
explosions, muffled as if under ground or within walls.
"They are blowing open the banks," I whispered to Estella.
Then all was quiet for a space. In a little while the bombardment
began again, as if in another part of the territory inclosed in the
barricades.
And still there was not a soldier to be seen in the deserted streets
near me.
And again came other explosions.
At last I saw the red light beginning to touch the clouds along the
eastern horizon with its crimson brush. The fateful day was dawning.
And then, in a little while, far away to the north, soft and dull at
first, but swelling gradually into greater volume, a mighty sound
arose; and through it I could hear bursts of splendid melody, rising
and falling and fluttering, like pennons, above the tumult; and I
recognized the notes of that grand old Scotch air, "The Campbells are
Coming."
It was the defenders of society advancing with the swinging step of
assured triumph.
Oh, it was a splendid sight! In all the bravery of banners, and
uniforms, and shining decorations, and amidst the majestic and
inspiriting outpouring of music, they swept along, the thousands
moving as one. How they did contrast with that gloomy, dark, ragged,
sullen multitude who had preceded them. And with them came, rattling
along, multitudes of those dreadful machine guns--those cataracts of
fire and death--drawn by prancing, well-fed, shining horses. And the
lips of the gunners were set for carnage; for they had received
orders _to take no prisoners!_ The world was to be taught a lesson
to-day--a bloody and an awful lesson. Ah! little did they think how
it would be taught!
In the gray light of the breaking day they came--an endless
multitude. And all the windows were white with waving handkerchiefs,
and the air stormy with huzzas and cries of "God bless you." And at
the head of every column, on exuberant steeds, that seemed as if they
would leap out of their very skins with the mere delight of living,
rode handsome officers, smiling and bowing to the ladies at the
windows;--for was it not simply holiday work to slay the
_canaille_--the insolent _canaille_--the unreasonable dogs--who
demanded some share in the world's delights--who were not willing to
toil and die that others might live and be happy? And the very music
had a revengeful, triumphant ring and sting to it, as if every
instrument cried out: "Ah, we will give it to them!"
But it was splendid! It was the very efflorescence of the art of
war--the culmination of the evolution of destruction--the perfect
flower of ten thousand years of battle and blood.
But I heard one officer cry out to another, as they passed below me:
"What's the matter with the Demons? Why are they not here?"
"I can't say," replied the one spoken to; "but they will be here in
good time."
The grand and mighty stream of men poured on. They halted close to
the high barricade. It was a formidable structure at least fifteen
feet high and many feet in thickness. The gray of dawn had turned
into red, and a pale, clear light spread over all nature. I heard
some sparrows, just awakened, twittering and conversing in a tall
tree near me. They, too, wondered, doubtless, what it all meant, and
talked it over in their own language.
The troops deployed right and left, and soon the insurgent mass was
closely surrounded in every direction and every outlet closed. The
"rat-trap" was set. Where were the rat-killers? I could see many a
neck craned, and many a face lifted up, looking toward the west, for
their terrible allies of the air. But they came not.
There was a dead pause. It was the stillness before the thunder.