“The presiding officer, with a slight inclination of the body, raised his hand, and addressing me, said:  ’You shall be the guest of our City, and if it must be that this great capital of Mars must succumb to this mysterious invasion, if this place, so long a marvel of beauty, shall be succeeded by a heap of burning stones, then you shall be our companion in pilgrimage.  Remain with us until the end of this strange circumstance is known.’

“As he finished, a noise of indescribable lamentation from a multitude of voices broke upon our ears—­the sound of running feet and sharp cries of amazement, crashed in upon the half ominous silence about us.

“I turned instinctively to my guide.  He stood statue-like beside me, with a stealing pallor crossing his face, and then, the doors of the apartment swung open, and loud voices were heard crying, ’The Peril comes.  Stand forward.  To the Hills!’

“Panic, that nameless associated mental terror of the unknown and the impending, which on Earth spreads fever-like through multitudes, had arisen amongst the Martians, and hurrying crowds were hastening in a wild retreat from the City to the hills.

“All thought of the Council, of my errand, or of the new relation I had been graciously accorded, disappeared from my mind.  Frightened by the sudden premonition of destruction, bewildered by the torrent of new sensations, and even yet only half confident that my existence in the new world was altogether real, I was impelled to spring forward.  Reaching the doors, hands shot out around me, and I was swept in the tide of running forms.

“It was a living stream of manifold complexity.  Only for one moment did I lose consciousness.  The next I was struggling to escape from the spreading tentacles of this involved current.  I leaped to the projection of a low pedestal, upon which an unfinished construction or group of statues was in progress.  Holding my exposed position for an instant, I wrenched myself clear of the pulsating throngs, and succeeded in gaining the low summit above me.  Here I was free to look around me.  My guide was gone, the Council House was lost to view; I was alone.  Below passed the surging crowd, made up of youths and girls, with few older men or women, many beautiful, all expressing the Martian distinction, but now strangely bewildered and uncontrolled.  It was a reversed emotional picture from that buoyant, frenzied throng that a few weeks ago carried me into the Hall of the Patenta.

“Faces were turned toward the sky, and hands, as if in ejaculation, were waved up and down, or thrust in significant indices toward that fatal blurred blot of splendor in the heavens.  I followed their direction.  The approaching nebula had grown sensibly since an hour ago.  It glittered, the size of a shield, and a light coruscation seemed emanating from its edges.  The faces of the multitude were justified.  The mass above us was a train of celestial missiles,