Загублений світ
A Procession! A Procession!
Therewasaswirlinthepackedmultitude,andaslowcurrent,bearingthefourupontheirshoulders,madeforthedoor.Outinthestreetthescenewasextraordinary.Anassemblageofnotlessthanahundredthousandpeoplewaswaiting.Theclose-packedthrongextendedfromtheothersideoftheLanghamHoteltoOxfordCircus.Aroarofacclamationgreetedthefouradventurersastheyappeared,highabovetheheadsofthepeople,underthevividelectriclampsoutsidethehall.‘Aprocession!Aprocession!’wasthecry.Inadensephalanx,blockingthestreetsfromsidetoside,thecrowdsetforth,takingtherouteofRegentStreet,PallMall,St.James’sStreet,andPiccadilly.ThewholecentraltrafficofLondonwasheldup,andmanycollisionswerereportedbetweenthedemonstratorsupontheonesideandthepoliceandtaxi-cabmenupontheother.Finally,itwasnotuntilaftermidnightthatthefourtravelerswerereleasedattheentrancetoLordJohnRoxton’schambersintheAlbany,andthattheexuberantcrowd,havingsung‘TheyareJollyGoodFellows’inchorus,concludedtheirprogramwith‘GodSavetheKing.’SoendedoneofthemostremarkableeveningsthatLondonhasseenforaconsiderabletime."
SofarmyfriendMacdona;anditmaybetakenasafairlyaccurate,ifflorid,accountoftheproceedings.Astothemainincident,itwasabewilderingsurprisetotheaudience,butnot,Ineedhardlysay,tous.
