Without the ray, the wind soon died. The warmer air mounting, melted the ice; the snow ceased falling. But the swath of shriveled foliage remained--a hideous scar cut into the luxuriant tropical growth.
The mob had forgotten its threats, its evil intent. Silent for a moment, it now burst into outcries. Motionless: then milling about, struggling aimlessly with itself--struggling to retreat. A panic of terror. The boats in the lagoon were retreating. The _slaans_ along the fringe of shore began hurriedly to embark. The groups huddled at the palace steps were trying to shove the others back. In a rout they tumbled into their boats and scurried away. Maida's voice, striving to reassure them, was unheard.
And presently the scarred, trampled garden was empty and silent.
The rebellion, checked thus at its start, was quelled. Throughout the city that night--for the _slaans_ to hear whether they would or no--the broadcast stations flung their stentorian tones to the people; a speech by Maida; her promise of better things to come for the _slaans_; the end of Tarrano's brief rule; a reorganization of past conditions. Maida herself had never been in control in the Central State. The luxury--the license-of the ruling class had been no fault of hers. She promised fair treatment now to the _slaans_. She was to marry Georg Brende, the Earth man.
Maida did marry Georg. With the many stirring events--a time when disaster and death threatened us all--so soon to follow, I shall not pause to describe the wedding. A quaint, yet magnificent spectacle. Maida in her regal robe; Georg looking every inch a ruler. Their barge of white leading the procession--a barge of white flowers, its sides lined with maidens to fend off the deluge of blossoms with which the onlookers assailed the bridal couple. The arrival at the marriage island, where on an altar the quaintly garbed holy man immersed them; and the solemn men of law united them as one.
It was a night of rejoicing throughout the Great City; and on every mirror in the Empire it was pictured for those who could not be present.
A time of rejoicing. Yet then--as always those days--my heart was heavy. Elza was held by Tarrano. We knew he had taken her to the City of Ice. There was of course, no radio communication with the Cold Country. We had tried eavesdropping upon it, but to no avail. Tarrano's close-flung barrage checked every wave we could send against it.