Then of a sudden the eclipse—what other word is there to use?—had passed and all was bright once more.
For some moments, there was silence, utter, resting on the place like something tangible. Arose a murmur of gladness, and then a song, started by Drorathusa herself, of thanksgiving. Every one, I believe, joined in this anthem, or whatever it should be called, and the voices, rising and falling, produced upon us twain from another world, though we understood but a single word, an effect strange and pronounced.
That single word which we understood was zur, which means light. This word is remarkable not only as being a monosyllable—Drome, of course, is another—in this language of polysyllables but also for a resemblance that will be set forth by the following, which I take from the writings of the great scientist Sir John Herschel:
"In a conversation held some years ago by the author of these pages with his lamented friend, Dr. Hawtrey, Head-Master and late Provost of Eton College, on the subject of Etymology, I happened to remark that the syllable Ur or Or must have some very remote origin, having found its way into many languages, conveying the sense of something absolute, solemn, definite, fundamental, or of unknown antiquity, as in the German words Ur-alt (primeval), Ur-satz (a fundamental proposition), Ur-theil (a solemn judgment)—in the Latin Oriri (to arise), Origo (the origin), Aurora (the dawn)—in the Greek Opos (a boundary, a mountain, the extreme limit of our vision, whence our horizon), Opaw (to see), Opoos (straight, just, right), Opkos (an oath or solemn sanction), Opai (the seasons, the great natural divisions of time), etc. 'You are right,' was his reply, 'it is the oldest of all words; the first word ever recorded to have been pronounced. It is the Hebrew for LIGHT ... AOR.'"
And there, down in Drome, is the word zur, and it means light. Whence came that word zur into the Droman language? Its semblance to ur or or or aor is unequivocal. Is that semblance a mere coincidence? Or did these syllables have a common origin?
Of course, there is no answer forthcoming. In all likelihood, there never will be an answer.
Periods of gloom are by no means a rarity in Drome, so lamps are always kept in readiness, and no Droman would think of beginning a journey into a dense forest without some kind of lamp, lantern or torch. Gloom, then, they accept as a matter of course; but in utter darkness their minds are a prey to fear and to something akin to horror. Superstition is rampant in Drome, and some of the worst species of it have their origin in these very eclipses. Among this strange, and in some ways truly wonderful, people, there is an astonishing mingling of good sense, a genuine love for some branches of science, and a belief in omens, portents, prodigies and other things of that kind, that would make your hair stand up on end.
Probably you will better understand that scene which I have just described—that in the utter darkness—and better understand that one which was so soon to follow when I say that one of their old prophets, as it is recorded in their sacred writings, foretold a time when the light is to go out to shine no more—a time when Drome is to be in a darkness that will last forever and forever.
The song ended, Drorathusa came over and placed herself between Rhodes and me; and then we quitted that landing-place, ascended a short flight of steps, passed through a most beautiful court and then, having ascended more steps, entered the palace itself.
Our little party was conducted straight to the throne-room.