“Where is Mr. Ilam?” he demanded of the Soudanese.
The Soudanese merely increased his smile, and pointed vaguely in the direction of the Amusement Park.
“Over there?”
“Yes, sah.”
“But where, man?”
“Yes, sah!” He lifted an arm and pointed.
The upper part of the illuminated rim of the giant wheel, a hundred feet higher than any other wheel in the world, could be seen over the roofs of the lofty white buildings in the Central Way. At this moment a rushing, roaring noise was heard to the east, and simultaneously the lights of the giant wheel were extinguished. Carpentaria glanced round. A rocket burst with a faint reverberation in the sky, a little colony of crimson stars floated for a few seconds amid the clouds—some stars had the shape of the letter I and others of the letter C—and then they expired, and the sky was black again. Cheers greeted the ingenious signal for the commencement of the first pyrotechnic display of the City of Pleasure, and a small crowd, which was beginning to form in the neighbourhood of the Soudanese, frittered itself suddenly away in a rush towards the Embankment. The fireworks were discharged from a plot of ground on the other side of the river—a plot specially leased for that sole purpose.
“I’ll come with you,” said Carpentaria to the Soudanese. He had decided that an interview with Ilam could not do any harm, and there was always the chance that it might in some way prove decisive. As for Mr. Jetsam, he would deal with Mr. Jetsam later. Possibly Ilam might have determined to make a general confession to him.
And he had his revolver.
The Soudanese walked quickly, and he was several inches taller than Carpentaria. In something less than five minutes they had arrived at the entrance to the Amusements Park, which was closing for the night.