I had recovered my senses by now, and stood panting, looking down on the crowd.

It was growing dusk and the faces became blurred into a white sea.

Yet suddenly I seemed to discern one glaring up at me from the middle of the crowd--the pale face of a man with a bandage about his head.

I caught Bernenstein's arm and whispered, "Bauer," pointing with my finger where the face was.

But, even as I pointed, it was gone; though it seemed impossible for a man to move in that press, yet it was gone.