We knew full well that some superstition was pointing a fell finger in our direction; but through the mind of neither flickered the thought that this eclipse might so to speak, be metamorphosed into a death-charge against us. As we were drawing in to the palace, a heavy voice came across the water. On the instant the rowers rested on their oars. Our commander answered the hail, the heavy voice came again, whereupon the oars were dipped and our craft glided in toward the landing-place. This hailing, by the way, was pure formality, for they on the island knew who we were. "What a scene!" said Milton Rhodes, his eyes shining. "What a moment, old _tillicum_, is this for you and me! We shall never, in all likelihood, know another such as this is!" Like a great lovely water-bird, our boat swung in to the landing-place, where she was at once made fast. And then it was that another strange thing happened. Rhodes and I stepped from the boat together. Since the light had gone out in that fierce and terrible flash, not the faintest glimmer had shone overhead, anywhere. But hardly had _we_ set foot on the island when there came a flash wrathful and awful. For a few moments, for the flash seemed to travel along the roof for many miles, the palace and the other buildings there, the people, and there were two or three hundreds, the water, the city, the distant walls of rock stood out in bold relief, as though in the glare of leperous fire. Then utter darkness again. It was like, and yet, strangely enough, very unlike too, a lightning-flash; but no thunder roared, not the faintest sound was heard. Again shot and quivered that leperous light. And this time cries broke out, cries that fear and horror wrung from the Dromans. It was, indeed, an awful moment and an awful scene. "It looks," said Milton, "as though they think that the world is coming to an end." "Certainly," I nodded, looking about me a little anxiously, "it seems that they think just that. Look at Drorathusa!" Again she was standing with arms extended upward, as we had seen her at the mouth of the great cave, and once more that strange, eerie voice of hers came sounding. Every one else there, save Rhodes and myself and a little girl who was clinging to Drorathusa's dress, was kneeling. Little wonder that, as I looked upon that scene, with the leperous light flashing and shaking and quivering through the darkness, I thought, for some moments, it must all be a dream. The flashes became more frequent. The light began to turn opalescent and to shoot and quiver and shake up along the roof. Then of a sudden the eclipse--what other word is there to use?--had passed and all was bright once more.