The street was packed with people! Even as I stood there, I heard the
crash of breaking glass below!
"What does it mean?" I asked, bewildered.
"Your Rifle Corps, I should think," Staunton said, without ceasing
writing. "We closed the doors just in time. They will try to wreck the
place."
"We have telephoned to Scotland Yard and the Horse Guards," the man who
stood by my side said, "and we have forty policemen inside the place now!
Good God!"
The sudden roar of an explosion split the air. The floor seemed to heave
under our feet, and the windows fell in with a crash, letting in the cold
night air. We could hear distinctly now the shrieks and groans from
below. It seemed to me that the roadway was suddenly strewn with the
bodies of prostrate men. I sprang back into the room, we all looked at
one another in horror. I think that for my part I expected to see the
walls close in upon us.
"A bomb," Staunton remarked calmly. "Listen!"
He leaned a little forward in his chair, his pen still in his hand, his
attitude one of strained and nervous attention.
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