CHAPTER V
THE THIRD SIGN
In the middle of the night, at New York, hundreds of thousandssimultaneously awoke with a feeling of suffocation.
They struggled for breath as if they had suddenly been plunged into asteam bath.
The air was hot, heavy, and terribly oppressive.
The throwing open of windows brought no relief. The outer air was asstifling as that within.
It was so dark that, on looking out, one could not see his owndoorsteps. The arc-lamps in the street flickered with an ineffectiveblue gleam which shed no illumination round about.
House lights, when turned on, looked like tiny candles inclosed in thickblue globes.
Frightened men and women stumbled around in the gloom of their chamberstrying to dress themselves.
Cries and exclamations rang from room to room; children wailed;hysterical mothers ran wildly hither and thither, seeking their littleones. Many fainted, partly through terror and partly from the difficultyof breathing. Sick persons, seized with a terrible oppression of thechest, gasped, and never rose from their beds.
At every window, and in every doorway, throughout the vast city,invisible heads and forms were crowded, making their presence known bytheir voices--distracted householders striving to peer through thestrange darkness, and to find out the cause of these terrifyingphenomena.
Some managed to get a faint glimpse of their watches by holding themclose against lamps, and thus noted the time. It was two o'clock in themorning.
Neighbors, unseen, called to one another, but got little comfort fromthe replies.
"What is it? In God's name, what has happened?"
"I don't know. I can hardly breathe."
"It is awful! We shall all be suffocated."
"Is it a fire?"
"No! No! It cannot be a fire."
"The air is full of steam. The stones and the window-panes are streamingwith moisture."
"Great Heavens, how stifling it is!"
Then, into thousands of minds at once leaped the thought of _theflood!_
The memory of Cosmo Versal's reiterated warnings came back withoverwhelming force. It must be the _third sign_ that he hadforetold. _It had really come!_
Those fateful words--"the flood" and "Cosmo Versal"--ran from lip tolip, and the hearts of those who spoke, and those who heard, sank likelead in their bosoms.
He would be a bold man, more confident in his powers of description thanthe present writer, who should attempt to picture the scenes in New Yorkon that fearful night.
The gasping and terror-stricken millions waited and longed for the hourof sunrise, hoping that then the stygian darkness would be dissipated,so that people might, at least, see where to go and what to do. Many,oppressed by the almost unbreathable air, gave up in despair, and nolonger even hoped for morning to come.
In the midst of it all a collision occurred directly over Central Parkbetween two aero-expresses, one coming from Boston and the other fromAlbany. (The use of small aeroplanes within the city limits had, forsome time, been prohibited on account of the constant danger ofcollisions, but the long-distance lines were permitted to enter themetropolitan district, making their landings and departures on speciallyconstructed towers.) These two, crowded with passengers, had, as itafterward appeared, completely lost their bearings--the strongestelectric lights being invisible a few hundred feet away, while thewireless signals were confusing--and, before the danger was apprehended,they crashed together.
The collision occurred at a height of a thousand feet, on the FifthAvenue side of the park. Both of the airships had their aeroplanessmashed and their decks crumpled up, and the unfortunate crews andpassengers were hurled through the impenetrable darkness to the ground.
Only four or five, who were lucky enough to be entangled with thelighter parts of the wreckage, escaped with their lives. But they weretoo much injured to get upon their feet, and there they lay, theirsufferings made tenfold worse by the stifling air, and the horror oftheir inexplicable situation, until they were found and humanelyrelieved, more than ten hours after their fall.
The noise of the collision had been heard in Fifth Avenue, and itsmeaning was understood; but amid the universal terror no one thought oftrying to aid the victims. Everybody was absorbed in wondering whatwould become of himself.
When the long attended hour of sunrise approached, the watchers wereappalled by the absence of even the slightest indication of thereappearance of the orb of day. There was no lightening of the densecloak of darkness, and the great city seemed dead.
For the first time in its history it failed to awake after its regularperiod of repose, and to send forth its myriad voices. It could not beseen; it could not be heard; it made no sign. As far as any outwardindication of its existence was concerned the mighty capital had ceasedto be.
It was this frightful silence of the streets, and of all the outerworld, that terrified the people, cooped up in their houses, and theirrooms, by the walls of darkness, more than almost any othercircumstance; it gave such an overwhelming sense of the universality ofthe disaster, whatever that disaster might be. Except where the voicesof neighbors could be heard, one could not be sure that the wholepopulation, outside his own family, had not perished.
As the hours passed, and yet no light appeared, another intimidatingcircumstance manifested itself. From the start everybody had noticed theexcessive humidity of the dense air. Every solid object that the handscame in contact with in the darkness was wet, as if a thick fog hadcondensed upon it. This supersaturation of the air (a principal cause ofthe difficulty experienced in breathing) led to a result which wouldquickly have been foreseen if people could have had the use of theireyes, but which, coming on invisibly, produced a panic fear when at lastits presence was strikingly forced upon the attention.
The moisture collected on all exposed surfaces--on the roofs, the walls,the pavements--until its quantity became sufficient to form littlerills, which sought the gutters, and there gathered force and volume.Presently the streams became large enough to create a noise of flowingwater that attracted the attention of the anxious watchers at the openwindows. Then cries of dismay arose. If the water had been visible itwould not have been terrible.
But, to the overstrained imagination, the bubbling and splashing soundthat came out of the darkness was magnified into the rush of a torrent.It seemed to grow louder every moment. What was but a murmur on theear-drum became a roar in the excited brain-cells.
Once more were heard the ominous words, "The flood!"
They spread from room to room, and from house to house. The wild scenesthat had attended the first awakening were tame in comparison with whatnow occurred. Self-control, reason--everything--gave way to panic.
If they could only have _seen_ what they were about!
But then they would not have been about it. Then their reason would nothave been dethroned.
Darkness is the microscope of the imagination, and it magnifies amillion times!
Some timorously descended their doorsteps, and feeling a current ofwater in the gutter, recoiled with cries of horror, as if they hadslipped down the bank of a flooded river. As they retreated theybelieved that the water was rising at their heels!
Others made their way to the roofs, persuaded that the flood was alreadyinundating the basements and the lower stories of their dwellings.
Women wrung their hands and wept, and children cried, and men pushed andstumbled about, and shouted, and would have done something if only theycould have seen what to do. That was the pity of it! It was as if theworld had been stricken blind, and then the trump of an archangel hadsounded, crying:
"Fly! Fly! for the Avenger is on your heels!"
How could they fly?
This awful strain could not have lasted. It would have needed no delugeto finish New York if that maddening pall of darkness had remainedunbroken a few hours longer. But, just when thousands had given up indespair, there came a rapid change.
At the hour of
noon light suddenly broke overhead. Beginning in a roundpatch inclosed in an iridescent halo, it spread swiftly, seeming to meltits way down through the thick, dark mass that choked the air, and inless than fifteen minutes New York and all its surroundings emerged intothe golden light of noonday.
People who had expected at any moment to feel the water pitilesslyrising about them looked out of their windows, and were astonished tosee only tiny rivulets which were already shriveling out of sight in thegutters. In a few minutes there was no running water left, although thedampness on the walls and walks showed how great the humidity of the airhad been.
At the same time the oppression was lifted from the respiratoryapparatus, and everybody breathed freely once more, and felt couragereturning with each respiration.
The whole great city seemed to utter a vast sigh of relief.
And then its voice was heard, as it had never been heard before, risinghigher and louder every moment. It was the first time that morning hadever broken at midday.
The streets became filled, with magical quickness, by hundreds ofthousands, who chattered, and shouted, and laughed, and shook hands, andasked questions, and told their experiences, and demanded if anybody hadever heard of such a thing before, and wondered what it could have been,and what it meant, and whether it would come back again.
Telephones of all kinds were kept constantly busy. Women called up theirfriends, and talked hysterically; men called up their associates andpartners, and tried to talk business.
There was a rush for the Elevated, for the Subways, for the streetauto-cars. The great arteries of traffic became jammed, and the noiserose louder and louder.
Belated aero-expresses arrived at the towers from East and West, andtheir passengers hurried down to join the excited multitudes below.
In an incredibly brief time the newsboys were out with extras. Theneverybody read with the utmost avidity what everybody knew already.
But before many hours passed there was real news, come by wireless, andby submarine telephone and telegraph, telling how the whole world hadbeen swept by the marvelous cloak of darkness.
In Europe it had arrived during the morning hours; in Asia during theafternoon.
The phenomena had varied in different places. In some the darkness hadnot been complete, but everywhere it was accompanied by extraordinaryhumidity, and occasionally by brief but torrential rains. The terror hadbeen universal, and all believed that it was the _third sign_predicted by Cosmo Versal.
Of course, the latter was interviewed, and he gave out a characteristicmanifesto.
"One of the outlying spirals of the nebula has struck the earth," hesaid. "But do not be deceived. It is nothing in comparison with what iscoming. _And it is the LAST WARNING that will be given!_ You haveobstinately shut your eyes to the truth, _and you have thrown awayyour lives!_"
This, together with the recent awful experience, produced a greateffect. Those who had begun to lay foundations for arks thought ofresuming the work. Those who had before sought places with Cosmo calledhim up by telephone. But only the voice of Joseph Smith answered, andhis words were not reassuring.
"Mr. Versal," he said, "directs me to say that at present he will allotno places. He is considering whom he will take."
The recipients of this reply looked very blank. But at least one ofthem, a well-known broker in Wall Street, was more angered thanfrightened:
"Let him go to the deuce!" he growled; "him and his flood together!"
Then he resolutely set out to bull the market.
It seems incredible--but such is human nature--that a few days of brightsunshine should once more have driven off the clouds of fear that hadsettled so densely over the popular mind. Of course, not everybodyforgot the terrors of the _third sign_--they had struck too deep,but gradually the strain was relaxed, and people in general accepted therenewed assurances of the savants of the Pludder type that nothing thathad occurred was inexplicable by the ordinary laws of nature. The greatdarkness, they averred, differed from previous occurrences of the kindonly in degree, and it was to be ascribed to nothing more serious thanatmospheric vagaries, such as that which produced the historic Dark Dayin New England in the year 1780.
But more nervous persons noticed, with certain misgivings, that CosmoVersal pushed on his operations, if possible more energetically thanbefore. And there was a stir of renewed interest when the announcementcame out one day that the ark was finished. Then thousands hurried toMineola to look upon the completed work.
The extraordinary massiveness of the ark was imposing. Toweringominously on its platform, which was so arranged that when the waterscame they should lift the structure from its cradle and set it afloatwithout any other launching, it seemed in itself a prophecy of impendingdisaster.
Overhead it was roofed with an oblong dome of levium, through which rosefour great metallic chimneys, placed above the mighty engines. The roofsloped down to the vertical sides, to afford protection from in-burstingwaves. Rows of portholes, covered with thick, stout glass, indicated thelocation of the superposed decks. On each side four gangways gave accessto the interior, and long, sloping approaches offered means of entryfrom the ground.
Cosmo had a force of trained guards on hand, but everybody who wishedwas permitted to enter and inspect the ark. Curious multitudesconstantly mounted and descended the long approaches, being kept movingby the guards.
Inside they wandered about astonished by what they saw.
The three lower decks were devoted to the storage of food and of fuelfor the electric generators which Cosmo Versal had been accumulating formonths.
Above these were two decks, which the visitors were informed would beoccupied by animals, and by boxes of seeds and prepared roots of plants,with which it was intended to restore the vegetable life of the planetafter the water should have sufficiently receded.
The five remaining decks were for human beings. There were roomyquarters for the commander and his officers, others for the crew,several large saloons, and five hundred sets of apartments of varioussizes to be occupied by the passengers whom Cosmo should choose toaccompany him. They had all the convenience of the most luxuriousstaterooms of the trans-oceanic liners. Many joking remarks wereexchanged by the visitors as they inspected these rooms.
Cosmo ran about among his guests, explaining everything, showing greatpride in his work, pointing out a thousand particulars in which hisforesight had been displayed--but, to everybody's astonishment, heuttered no more warnings, and made no appeals. On the contrary, as someobservant persons noticed, he seemed to avoid any reference to the fateof those who should not be included in his ship's company.
Some sensitive souls were disturbed by detecting in his eyes a look thatseemed to express deep pity and regret. Occasionally he would drawapart, and gaze at the passing crowds with a compassionate expression,and then, slowly turning his back, while his fingers worked nervously,would disappear, with downcast head, in his private room.
The comparatively few who particularly noticed this conduct of Cosmo'swere deeply moved--more than they had been by all the enigmatic eventsof the past months. One man, Amos Blank, a rich manufacturer, who wasnotorious for the merciless methods that he had pursued in eliminatinghis weaker competitors, was so much disturbed by Cosmo Versal's changeof manner that he sought an opportunity to speak to him privately. Cosmoreceived him with a reluctance that he could not but notice, and which,somehow, increased his anxiety.
"I--I--thought," said the billionaire hesitatingly, "that I ought--thatis to say, that I might, perhaps, inquire--might inform myself--underwhat conditions one could, supposing the necessity to arise, obtain apassage in your--in your ark. Of course the question of cost does notenter in the matter--not with me."
Cosmo gazed at the man coldly, and all the compassion that had recentlysoftened his steely eyes disappeared. For a moment he did not speak.Then he said, measuring his words and speaking with an emphasis thatchilled the heart of his listener:
"Mr. Blank, the necessi
ty has arisen."
"So you say--so you say--" began Mr. Blank.
"So I say," interrupted Cosmo sternly, "and I say further that this arkhas been constructed to save those who are worthy of salvation, in orderthat all that is good and admirable in humanity may not perish from theearth."
"Exactly, exactly," responded the other, smiling, and rubbing his hands."You are quite right to make a proper choice. If your flood is going tocause a general destruction of mankind, of course you are bound toselect the best, the most advanced, those who have pushed to the front,those who have means, those with the strongest resources. The masses,who possess none of these qualifications and claims--"
Again Cosmo Versal interrupted him, more coldly than before:
"It costs nothing to be a passenger in this ark. Ten million dollars, ahundred millions, would not purchase a place in it! Did you ever hearthe parable of the camel and the needle's eye? The price of a tickethere is an irreproachable record!"
With these astonishing words Cosmo turned his back upon his visitor andshut the door in his face.
The billionaire staggered back, rubbed his head, and then went offmuttering:
"An idiot! A plain idiot! There will be no flood."