The Land of the Changing Sun [54]
and even a slight one would be likely to enlarge the opening to the ocean."
Johnston nodded knowingly as he looked into his friend's face, but, considering the presence of the princess, he said nothing.
"My brother, Prince Marentel, is the greatest man in our kingdom," she re marked. "He has taken enough explosives to remove a mountain."
"How will he use them?" asked Thorndyke.
"I don't know, but I fancy he will try to close the opening in some way."
The latter slowly shook his head. "I fear he will fail. The fall must be as voluminous as Niagara by this time."
"My father must have lost hope, or he would not have stopped the sun," sighed the princess, and she cast a sad glance towards the west. The rolling clouds had become more dense, and the rumbling and booming in the distance was growing more frequent. A thin gray cloud passed before the sun, and a dim shadow fell over the city.
"That is a natural cloud," said Thorndyke; "it comes from the steam that rises from the pit."
"It is exactly like our rain clouds," returned the princess; "but it comes from the steam, as you say. But let us go into the Electric Auditorium and hear the news. As soon as anything is done we will hear of it there." The others had no time to question her, for she was hastening into the corridor outside. She piloted them down a flight of stairs into a large circular room beneath the surface of the ground. It was filled with seats like a modern theatre, and in the place where the stage would have been, stood a mighty mirror over an hundred feet square. She led them to a private box in front of the mirror. The room was filled from the first row of chairs to the rear with a silent, anxious crowd. In the massive frame of the mirror were numerous bell-shaped trumpets like those on the ordinary phonograph, though much larger.
"Watch the mirror," whispered Bernardino as she sat down.
And at that instant the surface of the great glass began to glow like the sky at dawn, and all the lights in the room went out. Then from the trumpets in the frame came the loud ringing of musical bells.
"They are ready," whispered Bernardino; "now watch and listen."
The pink light on the mirror faded, and a life-like reflection appeared--the reflection of a young man standing on a rock in bold relief against a dark background of rugged, slabbering cliffs and the forbidding mouths of caves.
"Waldmeer!" ejaculated the princess, and she relapsed into silence.
The young man held in his hand a cup-shaped instrument from which extended a wire to the ground. He raised it to his lips, and instantly a calm, deliberate voice came from the mirror, soft and low and yet loud, enough to reach the most remote parts of the great room.
"The ocean," began he, "is pouring into the 'Volcano of the Dead' in a gradually increasing torrent. Prince Marentel hopes temporarily to delay the crisis by partially turning the torrent away from the pit into the lowlands of the country. For that purpose a portion of the endless wall is being torn down, and Marentel's forces are placing their explosives. After this is done an attempt will be made to stop the original break. There is, however, little hope. The prince has warned the king to be prepared for the worst."
At this point, the speaker turned as if startled toward the red glare at his right. He quickly picked up another instrument attached to a wire and put it to his ear. A look of horror changed his face as he turned to the audience and began to speak:--"The opening in the wall is not progressing rapidly. Workmen are drowning and the tunnel of the sun is filling with water. It will be impossible for the sun to go through to the east."
Just then there was a far-away crash, and instantly the mirror was void. There was now no sound except the low groans of women in the audience and the subdued curses of maddened men. The silence was profound. Then the mirror began to glow, and the image of another man took Waldmeer's place.
"It is the Mayor of Telmantio," whispered the princess, "a place near the western
Johnston nodded knowingly as he looked into his friend's face, but, considering the presence of the princess, he said nothing.
"My brother, Prince Marentel, is the greatest man in our kingdom," she re marked. "He has taken enough explosives to remove a mountain."
"How will he use them?" asked Thorndyke.
"I don't know, but I fancy he will try to close the opening in some way."
The latter slowly shook his head. "I fear he will fail. The fall must be as voluminous as Niagara by this time."
"My father must have lost hope, or he would not have stopped the sun," sighed the princess, and she cast a sad glance towards the west. The rolling clouds had become more dense, and the rumbling and booming in the distance was growing more frequent. A thin gray cloud passed before the sun, and a dim shadow fell over the city.
"That is a natural cloud," said Thorndyke; "it comes from the steam that rises from the pit."
"It is exactly like our rain clouds," returned the princess; "but it comes from the steam, as you say. But let us go into the Electric Auditorium and hear the news. As soon as anything is done we will hear of it there." The others had no time to question her, for she was hastening into the corridor outside. She piloted them down a flight of stairs into a large circular room beneath the surface of the ground. It was filled with seats like a modern theatre, and in the place where the stage would have been, stood a mighty mirror over an hundred feet square. She led them to a private box in front of the mirror. The room was filled from the first row of chairs to the rear with a silent, anxious crowd. In the massive frame of the mirror were numerous bell-shaped trumpets like those on the ordinary phonograph, though much larger.
"Watch the mirror," whispered Bernardino as she sat down.
And at that instant the surface of the great glass began to glow like the sky at dawn, and all the lights in the room went out. Then from the trumpets in the frame came the loud ringing of musical bells.
"They are ready," whispered Bernardino; "now watch and listen."
The pink light on the mirror faded, and a life-like reflection appeared--the reflection of a young man standing on a rock in bold relief against a dark background of rugged, slabbering cliffs and the forbidding mouths of caves.
"Waldmeer!" ejaculated the princess, and she relapsed into silence.
The young man held in his hand a cup-shaped instrument from which extended a wire to the ground. He raised it to his lips, and instantly a calm, deliberate voice came from the mirror, soft and low and yet loud, enough to reach the most remote parts of the great room.
"The ocean," began he, "is pouring into the 'Volcano of the Dead' in a gradually increasing torrent. Prince Marentel hopes temporarily to delay the crisis by partially turning the torrent away from the pit into the lowlands of the country. For that purpose a portion of the endless wall is being torn down, and Marentel's forces are placing their explosives. After this is done an attempt will be made to stop the original break. There is, however, little hope. The prince has warned the king to be prepared for the worst."
At this point, the speaker turned as if startled toward the red glare at his right. He quickly picked up another instrument attached to a wire and put it to his ear. A look of horror changed his face as he turned to the audience and began to speak:--"The opening in the wall is not progressing rapidly. Workmen are drowning and the tunnel of the sun is filling with water. It will be impossible for the sun to go through to the east."
Just then there was a far-away crash, and instantly the mirror was void. There was now no sound except the low groans of women in the audience and the subdued curses of maddened men. The silence was profound. Then the mirror began to glow, and the image of another man took Waldmeer's place.
"It is the Mayor of Telmantio," whispered the princess, "a place near the western