to the sun.
“Look!” she cried gleefully, with the merry tremolo of a happy, surprised child. “The sun is not moving. Father has been successful! It is a good omen! God will save us!”
It was true; the sun was standing still. A deep silence was on the city. The crowds in the street neither moved nor spoke. Without a murmur or complaint they stood facing the frowning west. Suddenly the silence was interrupted by a low volcanic rumble. The earth heaved, and rolled, and far away in the suburbs of the city the spire of a public building fell with a loud crash. A groan swept from mouth to mouth and then died away.
“The cloud is increasing rapidly,” said Thorndyke. “I can really see little hope. I shall return in a moment.”
While he was gone Bernardino knelt and prayed. Again overcome with fear Branasko crouched down in his corner. Another shudder and rumble from the earth, another long moan from the people. Thorndyke came back. He spoke to the princess:
“The dam built by Prince Marentel has been swept away. The ocean is pouring into the internal fires. There is scarcely any hope now.”
Branasko groaned, but Bernardino's face was aglow with celestial faith. She shook her head.
“They will not be destroyed in this way,” she said; “they have had no chance to know God.”
“It all depends on the explosion which may take place at any moment,” and Thorndyke took her into his arms and whispered into her ear, “I do not care for myself; but I cannot bear to think of your suffering pain.”
She answered only by pressing his hand. The clouds were now rolling upward in greater volume than ever. It was growing darker. The little group on the balcony could now scarcely see the people below them. The fall of damp ashes was resumed. The air had grown hot and close.
Boom! Boom! Boom! the streets of the city rose and fell with the undulating motion of a swelling sea. Blacker and blacker grew the sky; closer and closer the atmosphere; damper and damper became the fog; thicker and thicker fell the wet sand and ashes.
“Perhaps we would be safer in the streets,” suggested Thorndyke, drawing Bernardino closer into his arms, “the palace may fall on us.”
But the princess shook her head. “Father would not know where to find me, I shall await him here.” Branasko had edged nearer to her. His eyes were glued on her face and he hung on her words as if his fate were in her hands. He had no regard for the opinions of the others.
“The explosion will soon take place now unless something has happened contrary to the expectations of the prince,” said the Englishman.
Boom! Boom! kr-kr-kr-kr-boom! The noise seemed to shake the earth to its centre. Now the far-away pit was belching forth fire and molten lava rather than steam and smoke. The flames had spread out against the sloping roof of the cavern, and seemed to extend for a mile along the horizon. “They can do nothing in that heat,” exclaimed Johnston; “they could not get near enough to the pit. Thorndyke, old fellow, I can't see a ghost of a chance. We might as well say good-bye.”
“Hush!” It was the voice of the princess. “I feel that we shall not be lost, I say.” And as she spoke Branasko crept toward her and raised the hem of her gown to his white lips. Something dark came between them and the far-off glare. It was a flying-machine.
“It is father,” cried Bernardino, and she called out to him: “Father! father! Here we are, waiting for you!” In a moment he was with them.
“All right in the east,” he said gloomily. “Baryonay is there. They deserted him, but they returned when the flames went down. This is awful, daughter; it means death! It means annihilation!”
She put her arms round his neck and drew his face close to hers. “No, no,” she said earnestly; “I see with a new light—a new spiritual light. There is mercy in the divine heart of Him that made the walls of our little world and constructed countless other worlds. I have prayed for mercy, and into my heart has come a sweet peace I never knew before. We shall not be lost. He will give us time to give up our sinful life here and seek Him.”
The old man quivered as with ague; he searched her face eagerly, drew her spasmodically into his arms, and then sank to the floor, overcome with exhaustion.
The roar in the west was increasing. Hot ashes, gravel and small stones were falling on the roofs and the people. Now and then a cry of pain was heard, but they would not seek the shelter of the buildings. If they had to die they wanted to fall facing the enemy. Suddenly the king rose. He looked to the west and groaned. Something told them that the explosion was coming. Expectation, horrible suspense was in the air. There was a mighty flare of light. The entire heavens were lighted from horizon to horizon, and then the light went out.
“Oh, I thought it——” but the princess did not finish her sentence.
“The explosion,” said Thorndyke, “the sound will follow in a moment.”
“My God, have mercy on us!” cried the king. But his prayer was drowned in a deafening sound. Bernardino had leaned into the arms of her lover. “Don't despair,” he said tenderly, “the prince may have been successful.”
“I feel that he has,” she replied. “But, oh, it is dreadful!”
The crowds below seemed to understand that their fate depended on the news that would reach them in a few minutes.
Boom! Boom! kr-kr-kr-kr-boom! There seemed to be no lessening of the volcanic disturbance, and the earth groaned and rocked and quivered as before.
“It is impossible to tell yet,” groaned the king. “Oh, God, save us; give us a chance to escape this awful doom!”
Johnston bethought himself that he might learn something in the Electric Auditorium and he went into it. It was empty and dark; not a soul was there save himself. He was turning to leave when his eye was drawn to the great mirror by a faint pink glow appearing upon it. He stood still, a superstitious fear coming over him as he thought of being alone with a possible messenger from the far-away scene of disaster. The light went out tremblingly; then it flashed up again, and the American thought he saw the face of Waldmeer. The light grew steadier, stronger. It was Waldmeer, but he was submerged in smoke. Hark! he was speaking.
“Marentel is successful! Entrance closed temporarily, and will be strengthened!”
Johnston rushed out to the balcony. “I have been to the Auditorium,” he announced. “I have seen Waldmeer. He says the experiment was successful. It is closed temporarily, and can be strengthened.”
The king grasped the hand of the American. “Thank God!” he ejaculated, “if I can only save my people I shall desire nothing more.” The princess moved toward him affectionately, but he put her aside and retired into the palace.
“He will at once communicate with the people,” remarked Bernardino hopefully, and she turned her face again toward the west. The red glare was dying down, and the dense clouds in the sky were thinning. In an hour the face of the sun broke through the smoke, and the flying-machines of the protectors began to return.
That night the king caused the pink light of the “Ideal Dawn” to flood the eastern sky, and, as before, he appeared in a circle of dazzling light and addressed his subjects:
“All
