“What is the sound that comes up from below?” asked the Englishman.
“It is the voices of the people and their footsteps on the stone.”
“What people?”
“Don't you see them? Your eyes are dazzled by the light; I ought to have warned you against looking up into the dome. The people are down there; do the views in the pavement not look a little blurred?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if you will look more closely you will see that it is a multitude of people.”
“Great heavens!” exclaimed the Englishman, and he became deeply absorbed in the contemplation of the rarest sight he had ever seen. As he looked closely he noticed a black spot growing larger and nearer, and he glanced inquiringly at the captain.
“It is an elevator. There are a great many of them used in the palace, but none have happened to rise as high as this since we came. The one you see is coming for us.” The next moment the strange vehicle was floating toward them. The captain opened the door and preceded the captives into the interior.
“The royal audience chamber,” he said, carelessly, to the driver behind the glass of the adjoining compartment, and down they floated as lightly as a bubble—down past balcony after balcony, laden with moving throngs, until they alighted in a great conservatory.
Near them was a tall fountain the water of which was playing weird music on great bells of glass, some of which hung in the fountain's stream and others rose and fell, giving forth strange, submerged tones in the foaming basin.