“Everything is ready for the explosion. The prince seems only waiting because he dreads failure. The people in there are so frightened that they cannot move from their seats.”
Just then Branasko raised a haggard face and looked appealingly at the princess. She caught his eye.
“Fear nothing, good man,” she said; “the God of the Christians will not harm us; we are safe in His hands. I felt it here in my heart when I prayed to Him. Oh, why has my father and the other kings of Alpha not taught us that grand simple truth! But before I die I want to leave this dark pit of sin, and look out once into endless, world-filled space.”
A joyous flush came into the face of the Alphian. His fear had vanished. She had promised him safety. He bowed worshipfully, but he spoke not, for Bernardino was eagerly pointing to the sun.
“Look!” she cried gleefully, with the merry tremolo of a happy, surprised child. “The sun is not moving. Father has been successful! It is a good omen! God will save us!”
It was true; the sun was standing still. A deep silence was on the city. The crowds in the street neither moved nor spoke. Without a murmur or complaint they stood facing the frowning west. Suddenly the silence was interrupted by a low volcanic rumble. The earth heaved, and rolled, and far away in the suburbs of the city the spire of a public building fell with a loud crash. A groan swept from mouth to mouth and then died away.
“The cloud is increasing rapidly,” said Thorndyke. “I can really see little hope. I shall return in a moment.”
While he was gone Bernardino knelt and prayed. Again overcome with fear Branasko crouched down in his corner. Another shudder and rumble from the earth, another long moan from the people. Thorndyke came back. He spoke to the princess:
“The dam built by Prince Marentel has been swept away. The ocean is pouring into the internal fires. There is scarcely any hope now.”
Branasko groaned, but Bernardino's face was aglow with celestial faith. She shook her head.