Tarrano himself lost in triumphant contemplation of what he had done, for the moment was heedless of Elza's presence. With white face upon which the blue glare had settled like a mask of death, Elza turned silently from him. Forgetful of that horrible thing they had encountered--others of its kind which might be lurking about--she turned silently and plunged into the black depths of the forest. CHAPTER XXIX _A Woman's Scream_ "The black Cloud of Death!" We stood there at the casement of the palace, gazing with a growing terror at the visible evidence of the tragedy which threatened. A black cloud off there in the distance, spreading out, rolling inexorably toward us. And then came the wind, and with it a breath of the black monster--a choking, horrible suggestion of the death rolling already over the city. We must have been fascinated at the casement for some considerable time. Elza's thought messages had ceased. Abruptly I came to myself. "The Black Cloud of Death!" I turned to Georg and Maida. "Alarm the city! Arouse them all! Alarm--" Maida's face was white: she flung off Georg's arm which had been protectingly around her. "The siren--" Terrible moments, those that followed. Confusion; panic; death! The public siren in the tower by the lagoon entrance shrilled its warning. The danger lights blazed out. The city came to life. Lights sprang up everywhere. People--with the daze of sleep still upon them--appeared at the casements; on the roof-tops; on the canal steps they appeared, fumbling with their boats. Panic! A pandemonium. Aircraft, such as could so hastily be mustered, swept overhead. A glare of lights everywhere. The shrill voice of the siren stilled, to make audible the broadcast warnings--stentorian tones screaming: "The Black Cloud of Death! Escape from the city! Escape to Industriana!" Warning, advice, command! But over it all, the breath of the black cloud now lay heavy. The lights were dimmed by it. Everywhere--to every deepest recess of the city--to every inner room where to escape it many had fled--its deadly choking breath was penetrating. Within the palace was turmoil. We had an air-vehicle on a landing-stage nearby; but Georg and Maida would not leave at once. Rulers of the Central State, as a Director might stick to his crumbling Tower, they stayed now in the Great City. Encouraging the people. Maida's voice, futilely attempting to broadcast over the uproar. Georg commanding the official air-vessels to load with refugees; himself struggling to direct the jam of boats toward the embarking stages.