The audience-chamber was hung with great mirrors in frames of tarnished gilt. In these Billy sawhimself repro-duced in a wavering line of Billies that, like the ghost of Banquo, stretched to thedisappearing point. Ofsuch images there was an army, but of the real Billy, as he was acutely conscious, there was but one.Among the black faces scowling the doorways he felt the odds were against him. Withoutmaking a reply he passed out between the racks of rusty muskets in the anteroom, between the twoGatling guns guarding the entrance, and on the palace steps, in indecision, halted..