“But,” Dr. Gresham added, “the time for such methods is past. We must end the whole thing immediately—at one stroke!”
Receiving a signal from Ensign Hallock that he was ready, we started to rejoin the ship’s party. But before we had gone a dozen steps we were rooted to the spot by a new terror!
Off in the east, where the snow-covered peaks lifted into the sky, suddenly burst forth an awful crashing sound, as of a colossal cannonade—a ponderous and unbroken thunder-roll, terrible as the enormous tumult of the day of doom. As our gaze followed the nightmare sounds to the edge of the world we beheld the lofty mountains oscillate, crack, disjoint, and crumble into seething ruin.
The noise that accompanied this destruction came roaring and booming across the intervening miles—a stupendous and unearthly commotion, shattering the very atmosphere to fragments.
For a minute Dr. Gresham stood petrified. But as the enormity of the cataclysm became evident, an unconscious cry, almost a groan, escaped him:
“Too late! Too late! The beginning of the end!”
Suddenly he wheeled—almost livid with excitement—to the naval officer and screamed at the lop of his voice:
“Fire! For God’s sake destroy that power plant! Fire! FIRE!”
CHAPTER XIII
PLAYING OUR FINAL CARD
In their astonishment at the terrible upheaval, Ensign Hallock and his men had left their posts and crowded toward the end of the promontory, a few feet away from the mortars. At Dr. Gresham’s command to fire, most of them leaped to obey the order.