sun. It flooded the country with its glare, and after sailing nearly in
front of the house it shrank into a scarlet cross not larger than a
man's hand. Then in a shower of sparks it ceased, its absence making the
blackness almost corporeal. Instinctively the hands of the two indulged
in a long pressure, and Mila quickly adjusted the lamp. But Gerald still
stood at the window a prey to astonishment, terror, stupefaction.

Karospina entered. His face was slightly flushed and in his eyes there
burned the sombre fire of the fanatic. Triumphantly he regarded his
young friend.

"That was only a little superfluous gas--nothing I cared to show you.
Read the newspapers to-morrow, and you will learn that a big meteor
burst off the north coast the night before, and fell into the sea." Then
he moved closer and whispered:--

"The time is at hand. Within three weeks--not later than the middle of
October--I shall make my first public test. 'Thus saith the Lord God to
the mountains and to the hills, to the rivers and to the valleys:
Behold, I, _even_ I, will bring a sword upon you, and I will destroy
your high places.'"

His voice rose in passion, his face worked in anger, and he shook his
clenched fists at an imaginary universe. So this man of peace was a
destroyer, after all! Gerald aroused him. Again he asked pardon. Mila
was nowhere to be seen, and with a sinking at the heart new to his
buoyant temperament, Gerald bade the magician good night. It was
arranged that he would leave the next day, for, like Milton, he was
haunted by "the ghost of a linen decency." But that night he did not
sleep, and no sound of music came to his ears from Mila's chamber. Once