“The clouds are thinning over the sun, yet there is no light. The king is excited; he fears a panic!” “Has such a thing never happened?” asked Thorndyke. “An hundred years ago; then thousands lost their lives. As soon as the people suspect the cause of the delay they will go mad with fear.” “What can we do?” asked the princess, recovering her self-possession. “Nothing, wait!” replied Tradmos. “This is as safe a place as you could find. Perhaps the trouble may be averted. Look!” The disk of the veiled sun was aglow with a faintly trembling light; but it went out. The silence was profound. The populace seemed unable to grasp the situation, but when the light had flickered over the black face of the sun once more and again expired, a sullen murmur rose and grew as it passed from lip to lip. It became a threatening roar, broken by an occasional cry of pain and a dismal groan of terror. There was a crash as if a mountain had been burst by explosives. “The swinging bridge has been thrown down!” said Tradmos. Light after light flashed up in different parts of the city, but they were so small and so far apart that they seemed to add to the darkness rather than to lessen it. “The moon, it will rise!” cried the princess. “It cannot,” said Tradmos in his beard, “at least not for several hours.” “They will kill my father,” she said despondently, “they always hold him responsible for any accident.” “They cannot reach him,” consoled Tradmos. “He is safe for the present at least.” “Is it possible to make the repairs needed?” “I don't know. When the accident happened long ago the sun was just rising.” “Has it stopped?” “I think not; it has simply gone out; the electric connection has, in some way, been cut off.” The tumult seemed to have extended to the very limits of the city, and was constantly increasing. The smashing of timber and the falling of heavy stones were heard near by. Tradmos leaned far over the parapet. “They are coming toward us!” he said; “they intend to destroy the palace; we must try to get down, but we shall meet danger even there.” Chapter XIII. Johnston and Branasko looked down at the great ball of light below them in silent wonder. Johnston was the first to speak. He pointed to the four massive cables which supported the sun at each corner of the platform and extended upward till they were enveloped in the darkness. “They hold us up,” he said, “where do they go to?” “To the big trucks which run on the tracks near the roof of the cavern; the endless cables are up there, too, but we can not see them with this glare about us.” “We can see nothing of Alpha from here,” remarked Johnston disappointedly, “we can see nothing beyond our circle of light.” “I should like to look down from this height at night,” said the Alphian. “It would be a great view.”