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 and sobbed: "Don't! Don't look like that! Oh, you poor people! I am the only one!" Awestruck and silently, men and women enveloped her and ministered unto her. It was the advance guard of the Red Cross Society, led by Clara Barton, that sheltered this derelict and messenger of woe. Set upon by a thousand men, Mr. Ticks and the professor told what they knew. Some cursed and doubted and pressed on. Some bowed their heads and turned back. But Swift, who had recognized Dubbs driving two powerful horses and unreeling two telegraph wires, one for the special use of the Associated Press and the other for the _Planet_, accosted him, and sent the most famous message known to the American newspaper world since the close of the civil war. It was a long message, and we can only give the more important headlines: Russell is no more! Thirty thousand people killed by one unparalleled electric discharge. The gigantic spark fuses the whole city into one indistinguishable molten slag. Miraculous escape of one lady. The sole survivor. Thrilling rescue by the _Planet_ reporters in a special balloon. The reporters complete the circuit and touch off an over-charged storage battery with a circumference of one hundred and fifty miles. The territory that was impassable now open. Fifty thousand people race toward the lost city. Russell perished of her own electricity. Civilization's new and formidable danger. * * * * * Three months later, on a secular evening, the upholstered pews of an uptown church were filled with a fashionable audience. As the church bells tolled eight the organ pealed forth the wedding march. It was noticed with much comment that the vast audience-room was lighted with gas, the new electric lights being dispensed with. The bride, Miss Insula Magnet, had especially desired this.