Mara could be induced to take nothing beyond a cup of coffee. In spite of the sunshine and the general reaction into hopefulness and courage, she felt that black chaos was coming into her life. Her aunt and natural protector was very ill. After the events of the night she shrank inexpressibly from her former relations to Bodine. Indeed, it seemed impossible to continue them. Yet she asked herself again and again, "What else is there for me?" He was very kind, but the expression of his face was inscrutable. Moreover, there was Miss Ainsley acting as if Clancy were her own natural property, and he unable to dispute her claims. It appeared to her that poor stricken Mrs. Hunter was her only refuge, and she resolved to remain close by the invalid's side.
With the coming of the day Uncle Sheba's most poignant fears had gradually subsided. He kept his eyes on his wife, feeling that any good that he might hope for in this world would come through her. Indeed the impression was growing that the greatest immediate good to be obtained from any world was a breakfast; and when Aun' Sheba went with George to his home, Unc. also followed at a discreet distance. The result was that his wife again had to put him on a "'lowance," or little would have been left in Mr. Houghton's kitchen. He surreptitiously stuffed a few eatables into his pocket, and then went out to smoke his pipe.
Breakfast was at last over at the square. Mr. Willoughby rose and said to his wife, "I will go to the house, and get more suitable costumes for you and Carrie. Houghton will loan you a dressing-room at his house, for the streets can be scarcely suitable for you to traverse yet. I'll bring a carriage for you, however, as soon as it is possible. Serious danger is now over, I hope."
He had scarcely uttered the words when, as if in mockery, far in the southeast was heard again the sound which appalled the stoutest hearts. On it came, as if a lightning express-train were thundering down upon them. They saw the tops of distant trees nod and sway as if agitated by a gale; men, women, and children rushing again, with loud cries, from their homes; then it seemed as if some subterranean monster was tearing its way through the earth.
The moment the paralysis of terror passed, Miss Ainsley threw herself shrieking upon Clancy, who was compelled to support and soothe her. Mara covered her face with her hands, trembled violently, but uttered no sound. Ella could not repress a cry, as she hid her face upon her father's breast, a cry echoed by Mrs. Willoughby as she and her husband clung together. George knelt, holding the hand of his father, who looked at his son with the feeling that, if the end had come, his boy should be the last object on which his eyes rested. Mrs. Bodine was as composed as the veteran himself, and simply looked heavenward. There was something so terrific in the immeasurable power of the convulsion, so suggestive of immediate and awful death, that few indeed could maintain any degree of fortitude.
There was one, however, a few rods away, who scarcely noticed the shock. Kern Watson, at last released from duty, sat on the ground, with his face buried in the neck of his dead child. He did not raise his head, and trembled only as the quivering earth agitated his form.
CHAPTER XLV
A CITY ENCAMPING
The earthquake which occurred at 8:25 Wednesday morning had a disastrous effect, although it was not so severe as to injure materially the buildings already so shattered. It nipped hope and growing confidence in the bud. Multitudes had left the square for their homes, a large proportion with the immediate purpose of obtaining more clothing. Many would have been comparatively naked were it not for enveloping blankets and the loan of articles of apparel from the more fortunate. With the confidence which the morning and the continued quiet of the earth inspired there had been a general movement from the square. Some hastily dressed themselves, snatched up bedding and food, and returned to the open spaces immediately; others breakfasted at home, and some had the heart to begin the task of putting their houses in order. The shock drove them forth again with all their fears renewed and increased, for the homes, which in many cases had been a refuge for generations, were now looked upon as deathtraps, threatening to mangle and torture as well as destroy. The love of gain, the instinct to preserve property, was also obliterated. Merchants deserted their shops and warehouses. Banks were unopened, except for the gaps rent by the earthquake. The city was full of food, yet people went hungry, not daring to enter the places where it was stored. After a second and general flight to the square, the question in all hearts, "What next?" paralyzed with its dread suggestion.
The fear among the educated had become definite and rational. Not that they could explain the earthquake or its causes, but the sad experiences of other regions were known to them. These experiences, however, had varied so greatly in their horrors as to leave a wide margin of terrible possibilities. A tidal wave might roll in, for the city was scarcely more than nine feet above the sea. The earth might open in great and ingulfing fissures. The tremendous forces beneath them might seek a volcanic outlet. These were all dire thoughts, and were brought home to the consciousness the more vividly because the awful phenomena continued in the serene light of day. The nightmare aspect of what had occurred in darkness passed away, and the coolest and most learned found themselves confronted by dangers which they could not gauge or explain. Nor could the end be foreseen. If such considerations weighed down the spirits of the most intelligent men, imagine the fears of frail, nervous women, of the children, the wild panic of the superstitious negroes to whom science explained nothing. To their excited minds the earthquake was due directly either to the action of a malignant, personal devil, or of an angry God. While many of the poor ignorant creatures inevitably indulged in what were justly termed "religious orgies," the great majority were well behaved and patient, finding in their simple faith unspeakable comfort and support.