The multitude were beating time with their feet--marking time, tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp.

The green weapons waved, flashed and slanted.
Then he saw those nearest to him on a level space before the stage were marching in front of him, passing towards a great archway, shouting "To the Council!" Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp.

He raised his arm, and the roaring was redoubled.

He remembered he had to shout "March!" His mouth shaped inaudible heroic words.

He waved his arm again and pointed to the archway, shouting "Onward!" They were no longer marking time, they were marching; tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp.