He did not stay long there, and, as he turned into Marylebone, a passing omnibus carrying an advertisement of the Military Tournament at Islington, suggested a method of killing time, and so it came about that an hour or so later he was underneath the gallery which surrounds the Agricultural Hall, picking his way through the dim and narrow space filled with a motley crowd of masked and leather-jacketed competitors, lifeguardsmen, looking unfamiliar to civilian eyes, in caps, shell-jackets, and white buckskins; artillery guns, harnessed and unharnessed, and policemen. From above and all around rolled thunders of applause, but nothing could be seen until he came to a large gangway, through which he looked up the vast hall with its chocolate plain vanishing in a haze of light, above which ros
