Oomith stared at him frostily. "The people of Toom would never have yielded to such filth as you, even had we betrayed them. It would have made no difference. We of Toom have self respect and honor to a degree that I fear is outside of your understanding." His laugh was not pleasant. "Still prattling over your little foolishness. Honor, respect--what are they to the destinies of nations and dynasties? Such delusions are hardly worthy of the Oomith I might have married." He seized a scroll from one of the officers standing nearby, shook it before her. "Here! Here is honor and respect. Here is such a thing as makes greatness. These are the designs of our war machines; this is what will teach the Toomians respect." Without answering, Oomith snatched the paper cylinder out of Aald's hand and darted forward. Straight toward the open gate she fled, toward the rocketmobile outside. A wild, insane scheme of seizing this and escaping to her own land in time possessed her. Caught off guard, the men were already at a disadvantage; they knew even as they raced she could not be caught before reaching the gate. With energy born of desperation, she hurled herself forward. But, just as she was upon it, two soldiers stepped through and dashed at her. At this point occurred what has gone down in history as the miracle that saved Toom. It is something for which no parallel in all history can be found. It caused Oomith to rise from the status of a beautiful and capable _mataiya_ to that of a goddess. Oomith stated later what were her feelings and experiences. She saw the two oncoming soldiers quite clearly. Her only thought then was to dash between them. Then, there came a terrible shock. An awful jolting as if she had been struck by a thunderbolt. The scene before her eyes dissolved instantaneously into a featureless gray; she felt herself seemingly detached as one might feel in the throes of delirium. For only a few seconds the strange sensation lasted. The only thing that she remembered seeing was the momentary impression of a single vision hanging before her eyes. What she saw was a man. She does not recollect how he was clad. He seemed to be sitting on a bench. Behind him she saw distinctly a blue wall, in nature, metallic. In the wall was an open door through which only grayness could be seen. The face of the man was held close to hers; he seemed to be staring at her. It was the face of a middle-aged man, of one powerful. Two clear brown eyes looked into hers; a mass of wavy chestnut hair surmounted the godlike brow. And the figure was smiling. For only the minutest fraction of a second this lasted, then the grayness returned. Yet, in a few seconds, it, too, had cleared away. The terrible blankness and queer feeling vanished abruptly as it had come. She could again see about her.