In another minute I appeared in the presence of my train.They had been steeped in troubled bodings all this time --their faces showed it.I called an escort and we galloped five miles to a hilltop overlooking the sea.
Where was my great commerce that so lately had made these glistening expanses populous and beautiful with its white-winged flocks?Vanished,every one!
Not a sail,from verge to verge,not a smoke-bank --just a dead and empty solitude,in place of all that brisk and breezy life.
I went swiftly back,saying not a word to anybody.I told Sandy this ghastly news.We could imagine no explanation that would begin to explain.
Had there been an invasion?an earthquake?a pestilence?Had the nation been swept out of existence?But guessing was profitless.I must go --at once.I borrowed the king's navy --a "ship"no bigger than a steam launch --and was soon ready.
The parting --ah,yes,that was hard.As I was devouring the child with last kisses,it brisked up and jabbered out its vocabulary!--the first time in more than two weeks,and it made fools of us for joy.The darling mispronunciations of childhood!--dear me,there's no music that can touch it;and how one grieves when it wastes away and dissolves into correctness,knowing it will never visit his bereaved ear again.Well,how good it was to be able to carry that gracious memory away with me!
I approached England the next morning,with the wide highway of salt water all to myself.There were ships in the harbor,at Dover,but they were naked as to sails,and there was no sign of life about them.It was Sunday;yet at Canterbury the streets were empty;strangest of all,there was not even a priest in sight,and no stroke of a bell fell upon my ear.
The mournfulness of death was everywhere.I couldn't understand it.At last,in the further edge of that town I saw a small funeral procession --just a family and a few friends following a coffin --no priest;a funeral without bell,book,or candle;there was a church there close at hand,but they passed it by weeping,and did not enter it;I glanced up at the belfry,and there hung the bell,shrouded in black,and its tongue tied back.Now I knew!Now I understood the stupendous calamity that had overtaken England.Invasion?Invasion is a triviality to it.It was the INTERDICT!
I asked no questions;I didn't need to ask any.The Church had struck;the thing for me to do was to get into a disguise,and go warily.One of my servants gave me a suit of clothes,and when we were safe beyond the town I put them on,and from that time I traveled alone;I could not risk the embarrassment of company.
A miserable journey.A desolate silence everywhere.Even in London itself.
Traffic had ceased;men did not talk or laugh,or go in groups,or even in couples;they moved aimlessly about,each man by himself,with his head down,and woe and terror at his heart.The Tower showed recent war-scars.
Verily,much had been happening.
Of course,I meant to take the train for Camelot.Train!Why,the station was as vacant as a cavern.I moved on.The journey to Camelot was a repetition of what I had already seen.The Monday and the Tuesday differed in no way from the Sunday.I arrived far in the night.From being the best electric-lighted town in the kingdom and the most like a recumbent sun of anything you ever saw,it was become simply a blot --a blot upon darkness --that is to say,it was darker and solider than the rest of the darkness,and so you could see it a little better;it made me feel as if maybe it was symbolical --a sort of sign that the Church was going to KEEP the upper hand now,and snuff out all my beautiful civilization just like that.I found no life stirring in the somber streets.I groped my way with a heavy heart.
The vast castle loomed black upon the hilltop,not a spark visible about it.The drawbridge was down,the great gate stood wide,I entered without challenge,my own heels making the only sound I heard --and it was sepulchral enough,in those huge vacant courts.
