But suddenly for a fraction of time that racing heart stood still. Something terrible was happening. She all but lost her balance, spun round, grew suddenly dizzy and barely escaped falling. The end of a large section of the floor, had risen a foot above the level of the stage! It was still rising.

Her mind in a whirl, she sprang from the tilting floor to the level space just beyond.

But horror of horrors! This also began to tilt at a rakish angle. At the same time she realized in consternation that the Fire God was in danger of gliding down the section on which he rested and falling into the pit of inky blackness below.

Risking her own neck, she sprang back to her former position, seized the god and went dashing away across section after section of madly rocking floors, to tumble at last into some one’s arms.

This someone was beyond the door in the hallway. Realizing dimly that only the stage floor and not the whole building was doing an earthquake act, she gripped her breast to still the wild beating of her heart and then looked into the face of her protector. Instantly her heart renewed its racing. The woman who held her tightly clasped was none other than the one who, in a cape of royal purple and white fox, had sat beside Solomon and witnessed their rehearsal—Marjory Bryce, the greatest prima donna the city had ever known. And she was laughing.

“Please forgive me!” she said after her mirth had subsided. “You looked so much like Liza crossing the ice with the child in her arms.”

“But—but what—” The little French dancer was still confused and bewildered.

“Don’t you understand, child?” The prima donna’s tone was soft and kindly as a mother’s. Petite Jeanne loved her for it. “The floor is laid in sections. Each section may be raised or lowered by lifts beneath it. That is for making lakes, mountains, great stairways and many other things. Just now they are making a mountain; just for me. To-night I sing. Would you like to watch them? Have you time? It is really quite fascinating.”

“I—I’d love to.”

“Then come. Let us sit right here.” She drew a narrow bench from a hidden recess. “This section will not be lifted. We may remain here in safety.”