curious effect, as though it was not moving at all and the halo was. A group of war-blasted giant elder-trees were flashed into gaunt scarred gesticulations and swallowed again by the night. . . . Redwood turned to Cossar's dim outline again and clasped his hand. "I have been shut up and kept in ignorance," he said, "for two whole days."
"We fired the Food at them," said Cossar. "Obviously! Thirty shots. Eh!"
"I come from Caterham."
"I know you do." He laughed with a note of bitterness. "I suppose he's wiping it up."
II
"Where is my son?" said Redwood.
"He is all right. The giants are waiting for your message."
"Yes, but my son. . ."
He passed with Cossar down a long slanting tunnel that was lit red for a moment and then became dark again, and came out presently into the great pit of shelter the giants had made.
Redwood's first impression was of an enormous arena bounded by very high cliffs and with its floor greatly encumbered. It was in darkness save for the passing reflections of the watchman's searchlights that whirled perpetually high overhead, and for a red glow that came and went from a distant corner where two giants worked together amidst a metallic clangour. Against the sky, as the glare came about, his eye caught the familiar outlines of the old work-
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