ghastly territory. The discharge once having taken
place, this country is again free to man and beast."

"Gosh!" was all that the subdued professor could say.

And now the four travellers lifted up their eyes, and saw before them on
the horizon black moving, indistinct masses, as if brobdignagian locusts
were swarming up the track. Here were the hosts of careworn men,
plunging impatiently toward the lost city for the news that the
unaccountable and malignant power had hitherto denied them. The four
needed courage to meet this unrestrained and desperate mob. Who were
these in the van? What pallid faces, what haggard eyes, what piteous
gestures! Alas, they were the mourners of the dead! Love had wrestled
its way ahead of plunder, and grief had outrun greed. In the front ranks
were women wailing and panting desperately to keep pace with unmanned
men.

This woeful sight aroused Mr. Ticks. He raised his hands towards the
lost city after the manner of an inspired prophet, and there and then
uttered the following impassioned warning to humanity, which Swift took
down in shorthand in the borrowed notebook:

"Woe unto you that multiply currents you cannot control! Woe unto you
that net your country with the trap of sudden death! Woe unto you that
toss innocent men on broken wires; that surprise your victims in the
counting-house, the home, the street, with destructive bolts! Woe unto
you that undermine and overcast the land with a mysterious foe! Behold!
your dead shall rise in serried phalanx against you, and their mourners
shall rend you to pieces!"

The only burst of eloquence known to the biography of this prosaic man
subsided into apathetic silence. His hands dropped heavily at his sides.
He turned away from Russell and beheld its blackened site no more.

The throng was now upon them. Multitudes of wild faces asked questions
of the four. Who would answer these? Who could tell the terrible truth?
The professor paled and walked behind Swift. Mr. Ticks shrank at the
awful responsibility, and took refuge behind the professor. Swift halted
and trembled.

"Go," he said to the girl. "Go! Only a woman can."

And she went. She stepped out alone--a few paces, and stood quite still.
Instinctively the masses stopped before her. Eyes, sleepless with
weeping and waiting, riveted themselves upon eyes that were still
haunted with a portentous experience. The girl stretched out one hand in
mute appeal, and then burst into tears an