incidental sounds from sheer self-protection. Somewhere he heard
the ripple of a little spring. As the idea of a spring came into
his mind, he remembered Estelle's description of the deep-toned
roar she had heard.

He put his hand on the cold stone of the building. There was still
a vibrant quivering of the rock. It was weaker than before, but
was still noticeable.

He drew back from the rock and looked up into the sky. It seemed
to blaze with stars, far more stars than Arthur had ever seen in
the city, and more than he had dreamed existed.

As he looked, however, a cloud seemed to film a portion of the
heavens. The stars still showed through it, but they twinkled in
a peculiar fashion that Arthur could not understand.

He watched in growing perplexity. The cloud moved very swiftly. Thin
as it seemed to be, it should have been silvery from the moonlight,
but the sky was noticeably darker where it moved. It advanced toward
the tower and seemed to obscure the upper portion. A confused motion
became visible among its parts. Wisps of it whirled away from the
brilliantly lighted tower, and then returned swiftly toward it.

Arthur heard a faint tinkle, then a musical scraping, which became
louder. A faint scream sounded, then another. The tinkle developed
into the sound made by breaking glass, and the scraping sound became
that of the broken fragments as they rubbed against the sides of
the tower in their fall.