A single discharge would sweep us all into eternity.
"Will no one fire upon them?" exclaimed Mr. Edison, struggling with the disintegrator in his hands which still refused to work.
At this fearful moment I glanced around upon our company, and was astonished at the spectacle. In the presence of the danger many of them had lost all self-command. A half dozen had dropped their disintegrators upon the ground. Others stood as if frozen fast in their tracks. The expert electrician, whose poor aim had had such disastrous results, held in his hand an instrument which was in perfect condition, yet with mouth agape, he stood trembling like a captured bird.
It was a disgraceful exhibition. Mr. Edison, however, had not lost his head. Again and again he sighted at the dreadful knob with his disintegrator, but the vibratory force refused to respond.
The means of safety were in our hands, and yet through a combination of ill luck and paralyzing terror, we seemed unable to use them.
In a second more it would be all over with us.
The suspense in reality lasted only during the twinkling of an eye, though it seemed ages long.
Unable to endure it, I sharply struck the shoulder of the paralyzed electrician. To have attempted to seize the disintegrator from his hands would have been a fatal waste of time. Luckily the blow either roused him from his stupor or caused an instinctive movement of his hand that set the little engine in operation.
I am sure he took no aim, but providentially the vibratory force fell upon the desired point, and the knob disappeared.
We were saved!