The Nervina, taking Harry's arm, ascended the steps. Chick followed, with the Rhamda Geos at his side. At the top of the flight the Nervina was escorted to one of the chairs, while Chick placed the Geos in the other. It left the two Californians on their feet, to move around to whatever extent seemed commensurate with dignity. Chick drew Harry aside. “What do you suppose,” said Chick, indicating the handsome, confident figure in the chair at the base of the stairs--“what do you suppose friend Senestro is thinking about?” Harry frowned. “You know him better than I do. You don't think he has reformed?” “Not on your life; not the Bar. He's merely adjusted his plans to the new situation. He sees that the Prophecy is likely to be fulfilled; so, he counts on being the first to get through, after the Nervina. Then, whether the rest of the Thomahlia follows or not--he calls himself the divinely appointed leader now, I understand--he will get through and marry the two Queens anyhow!” Perhaps it was because the crowd was so terrifically large. Or, there may have been something in the destiny of things that would not permit the chief actors to feel nervous. Certain it is that neither of the two men experienced the least stage fright. Had they been on display before a crowd one-tenth the size, anywhere else, both would have been ill at ease. This was different--enormously so. No longer was there any circulation in the crowd. People remained in their places now, just as they expected the end to find them. Chick and Harry marvelled at their composure, strangely in contrast with the ceaseless activities of the temple pheasants darting everywhere overhead. Suddenly Harry remarked: “I've got an idea, Chick! It's this: How does the professor expect to send a message to Hobart?” Chick could not guess. But already Harry had taken his sheet of instructions from his pocket, and was rolling it into a compact pellet. Then he went to Queen, and with a ribbon borrowed from the Nervina, tied the message tightly to the dog's collar. “Hobart will be certain to see it,” said he. “I wonder if the doctor's figured it out yet?” “He's playing with a tremendous force,” observed Chick, thoughtfully. He reached out and touched the snow-stone with his foot, just as he had done before, and fancied that he could feel that electric thrill even through the leather of his shoes. “Still, it's worth any risk he may be taking down in that chamber. If only he could send Queen through! Hobart--” He never finished the sentence. He staggered, thrown off his balance by reason of the fact that he had been resting the weight of one foot on the stone and--it moved! Moved--shifted about its axis, just as it had done forty-eight hours previously, when the Aradna had dropped through.