Terror-stricken, the people scattered, seeking shelter. Some ran to their homes, others to the palace. But many rushed into the great court of the temple, thence on to the temple, there to utter dismayed cries at beholding the altar fire but a faint spark. Despite the almost darkness they pressed on, invading the sacredness of the inner sanctuary. Here, by the dim lamplight, did they further behold Atlano and Oltis, still as iron, still glaring at each other. And but a faint spark was remaining on this altar, likewise!
Shriek after shriek went up as these intruders looked upon king and priest; these shrieks being echoed by the dazed ones running through passages, apartments, and temple until it seemed as though the weight of sound must bring the walls about them.
Some of these intruders even ventured to pass on through the private passage of Atlano and Oltis. Perceiving the end door open, they went toward it, and its dark stairway allured them. Down they rushed to the open door below through which a faint light could be seen. And hustled, awed, into the crypt-like apartment whose lamps were still burning, there to look about them in wonder, terror; and then dashed for the white objects at the far end!
There was an agonized staring, screams, yells, a frenzied retreat up the stairway, frantic disclosures when they reached the inner sanctuary. “The lost handmaids!” “Dead—dead!” “In the vault below!” “See for yourselves!” were the cries to the ones that were here.
Many of these ran down to look for themselves, whilst the discoverers hastened out to inform others. The second party, in turn, came tearing up, maddened; and rushed without to corroborate the reports of the first. The listening islanders, aroused to their gross neglect, their insensate yielding, were excited to extreme hatred and desire for revenge. With Monon as leader, they hastened in mass to the inner sanctuary, showering curses the while upon Atlano and Oltis. And, when before them, further cursed; then spat upon them. Yet still the two sat rigid.
As they were thus reviled—as the revilers endeavored to tear them from their seats—the great structure began to rock, and so terrifically that the infuriated ones, forgetful even of their revenge, turned to flee. Better the rain, the lurid sky, the unearthly gloom, the showering ashes, the thunderbolts than this!
The last to leave cried in their flight, “The spark is out! The spark is out!” but to repeat the same when the temple’s altar was shot by!
But Luta was in Veris’ arms; and Kluto was holding fast Celesa—whilst, on the summit, the four received the full fury of the elements. But they were happy. As to the first handmaid, she had passed away while praying. And was lonely no longer!
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SILENT ONE SPEAKS.
As the galleys sailed to the east, the Atlantean eyes lingered with pride upon the island. Never had it looked fairer. What other spot of earth was so fitting to be chosen the abode of a god? What other land had so thriven, so conquered, so repeated itself even in the farthest climes? Surely upon this island the sun must shine forever!