"The Master, the Master! God and the Master," shouted the people. "To
hell with the Council!" Graham looked at their multitudes, receding
beyond counting into a shouting haze, and then at Ostrog beside him,
white and steadfast and still. His eye went again to the little group of
White Councillors. And then he looked up at the familiar quiet stars
overhead. The marvellous element in his fate was suddenly vivid. Could
that be his indeed, that little life in his memory two hundred years gone
by--and this as well?
CHAPTER XIV
FROM THE CROW'S NEST
And so after strange delays and through an avenue of doubt and battle,
this man from the nineteenth century came at last to his position at the
head of that complex world.
At first when he rose from the long deep sleep that followed his rescue
and the surrender of the Council, he did not recognise his surroundings.
By an effort he gained a clue in his mind, and all that had happened came
back to him, at first with a quality of insincerity like a story heard,
like something read out of a book. And even before his memories were
clear, the exultation of his escape, the wonder of his prominence were
back in his mind. He was owner of the world; Master of the Earth. This
new great age was in the completest sense his. He no longer hoped to
discover his experiences a dream; he became anxious now to convince
himself that they were real.
An obsequious valet assisted him to dress under the direction of a
dignified chief attendant, a little man whose face proclaimed him
Japanese, albeit he spoke English like an Englishman.
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