Fenton acted. He caught the Senestro before he could get his balance and with a mighty heave hurled him over the side of the stair. A second, and it was over.
Another second was the last. For the great Leaf of the Jarados had opened.
The green and red stood still; but out of the blue came a dazzling light, a powerful beam; so brilliant, it seemed solid. It shot across the whole sweep of the temple and touched the Prophecy. Over the golden scrolls it traced its marvellous colour, until it came to the lines:
Beware ye of sacrilege! Lest I take from ye all that I
have given ye, and the day be postponed—beware ye of
sacrilege!
For a moment the strange light stood still, so that the checked millions might read. Then it turned upon the dais.
There it spread, and hovered over the group, until it seemed to work them together—the Nervina to Harry, the Aradna to Hobart. Not one of them knew what it was; they obeyed by impulse—it was their destiny; the Chosen, and the queens.
The light stopped at the foot of Dr. Holcomb. Then the strangest thing happened.
Out of the light—or rather, from where it bathed the snowstone—came a man; a man much like Holcomb, bearded and short and kindly.
He was the real Jarados!
Unhesitatingly the professor stepped up beside him. Then followed Hobart and the Aradna, Harry and the Nervina, and lastly, from the crowd of Bars, MacPherson. The whole concourse in the temple stopped in awe and terror.