“Your time is growing short,” said Sir John with a sigh. “I shall miss you very much, my lad.”
“I shall miss you too, sir. But of course I am rather looking forward to the expedition.”
The weather had been quite settled since the time when the Argenta had encountered the terrible storm, on the day preceding the birth of Desmond’s son. Slightly sultry, perhaps, but an occasional cool breeze tempered the heat.
The next day all the papers were full of the epidemic of earthquakes that were occurring in different parts of the world. Work in many places was disorganized, and a fear was expressed that influences were at work round Southern Europe which might mean that the earthquakes would be felt nearer home.
Alan was due to sail in two days, arrangements had been made for him to leave Scotland the following morning, when a wire came from Sir Christopher Somerville. “Postponing departure of Cavalier indefinitely. Fear unsafe to sail south. Awaiting favourable report from Greenwich. Will advise you at earliest of arrangements.”
“Well, it gives us a little more of your society, my boy,” said Sir John, and there was a pleased look in his eyes.
Alan picked up the paper. “My God!” said he suddenly, and his face blanched.
“Following the news of the disastrous earthquakes that have been scourging America and the islands of the South American coast,” he read, “come accounts of further appalling phenomena. In all parts of America, after violent cyclones, the land has in many places opened up, and swallowed men, animals and buildings. The loss of life is abnormal—rough estimates are given as high as 900,000 lives. Internal rumblings and coastal waterspouts in Tasmania have caused a panic among the population. The sea is too rough for even the largest boat to sail upon. Natives are rushing hither and thither with no real idea of where to go for safety. Volcanic eruptions are taking place in districts where for thousands of years the volcanoes have been extinct. Scientists are at present unable to account for this extraordinary outbreak of nature. As we go to press, news has come through that Sydney has disappeared entirely. San Francisco is in ruins. The whole of Cape Colony has sunk below sea level—and the water has poured over the whole country, sweeping everything before it. A later edition of this paper will be issued at noon, and at intervals during the afternoon and evening with news as it comes to hand.”
“It is the worst scourge nature has ever given us,” said Sir John.
“What I cannot understand,” said Alan, “is why it is in so many places at once. Different latitudes seem to have suffered and different lands.”