The huge red ball of the sun sank majestically to the horizon. But the stars did not appear. Night did not come.
To the solar day succeeded a new day, the daylight of the Comet. Its intense light resembled that of an Aurora Borealis, but more vivid, coming from a great incandescent spot, which had not been visible during the day because it was below the horizon, but which would certainly have rivalled the splendour of the Sun.
This luminous spot rose in the East almost at the same time as the full Moon. The two luminous bodies rose together, side by side. As they rose, the light of the Moon seemed to pale, but the head of the Comet increased in splendour with the disappearance of the Sun below the western horizon.
Now, after nightfall, the Comet dominated the world—a scarlet-red ball with jets of yellow and green flame which seemed to flutter like fiery wings.
To the terrified people it seemed like a giant of fire taking possession of all Heaven and Earth.
Already the outermost jets of flame had reached the Moon. From one instant to the next the flaming rays would descend upon the Earth.
All eyes were distended with horror when it was seen that the horizon was lighting up with tiny violet flames as from a vast fire.
An instant afterward, the Comet diminished in brilliancy. This was apparently because the Comet, upon touching the atmosphere of our Earth, had come within the penumbra of our planet and had lost part of its reflected light coming from the Sun. But in reality this apparent extinction was the effect of contrast. When the less dazzled eyes of the awestruck, human spectators had grown used to this new light, it appeared almost as intense as at first, but paler, more sinister and sepulchral.
Never before had the Earth been lit up with so sickly a light.
The drouth of the air became intolerable. Heat, as from a huge burning oven, came from above. A horrible stench of burning sulphur—due, no doubt, to electrified ozone—poisoned the atmosphere.