“They will not be destroyed in this way,” she said; “they have had no chance to know God.”
“It all depends on the explosion which may take place at any moment,” and Thorndyke took her into his arms and whispered into her ear, “I do not care for myself; but I cannot bear to think of your suffering pain.”
She answered only by pressing his hand. The clouds were now rolling upward in greater volume than ever. It was growing darker. The little group on the balcony could now scarcely see the people below them. The fall of damp ashes was resumed. The air had grown hot and close.
Boom! Boom! Boom! the streets of the city rose and fell with the undulating motion of a swelling sea. Blacker and blacker grew the sky; closer and closer the atmosphere; damper and damper became the fog; thicker and thicker fell the wet sand and ashes.
“Perhaps we would be safer in the streets,” suggested Thorndyke, drawing Bernardino closer into his arms, “the palace may fall on us.”
But the princess shook her head. “Father would not know where to find me, I shall await him here.” Branasko had edged nearer to her. His eyes were glued on her face and he hung on her words as if his fate were in her hands. He had no regard for the opinions of the others.
“The explosion will soon take place now unless something has happened contrary to the expectations of the prince,” said the Englishman.
Boom! Boom! kr-kr-kr-kr-boom! The noise seemed to shake the earth to its centre. Now the far-away pit was belching forth fire and molten lava rather than steam and smoke. The flames had spread out against the sloping roof of the cavern, and seemed to extend for a mile along the horizon. “They can do nothing in that heat,” exclaimed Johnston; “they could not get near enough to the pit. Thorndyke, old fellow, I can't see a ghost of a chance. We might as well say good-bye.”
“Hush!” It was the voice of the princess. “I feel that we shall not be lost, I say.” And as she spoke Branasko crept toward her and raised the hem of her gown to his white lips. Something dark came between them and the far-off glare. It was a flying-machine.
“It is father,” cried Bernardino, and she called out to him: “Father! father! Here we are, waiting for you!” In a moment he was with them.