“The Lord Oro, using the strength that is in the world whereof he alone has the secret, changes the world’s balance causing that which was land to become sea and that which was sea to become land,” said Yva in her chanting, unnatural voice.

Another scene of stupendous and changing awfulness.  Countries were sinking, cities crashing down, volcanoes were spouting fire; the end of the earth seemed to be at hand.  We could see human beings running to and fro in thousands like ants.  Then in huge waves hundreds and hundreds of feet high, the ocean flowed in and all was troubled, yeasty sea.

“Oro carries out his threat to destroy the Nations who had rebelled against him,” said Yva.  “Much of the world sinks beneath the waves, but in place of it other lands arise above the waves, to be inhabited by the seed of those who remain living in those portions of the Earth that the deluge spared.”

This horrible vision passed and was succeeded by one more, that of Oro standing in the sepulchre of the cave by the side of the crystal coffin which contained what appeared to be the body of his daughter.  He gazed at her, then drank some potion and laid himself down in the companion coffin, that in which we had found him.

All vanished away and Yva, appearing to wake from some kind of trance, smiled, and in her natural voice asked if we had seen enough.

“Quite,” I answered in a tone that caused her to say: 

“I wonder what you have seen, Humphrey.  Myself I do not know, since it is through me that you see at all and when you see I am in you who see.”

“Indeed,” I replied.  “Well, I will tell you about it later.”

“Thank you so much,” exclaimed Bastin, recovering suddenly from his amazement.  “I have heard a great deal of these moving-picture shows which are becoming so popular, but have always avoided attending them because their influence on the young is supposed to be doubtful, and a priest must set a good example to his congregation.  Now I see that they can have a distinct educational value, even if it is presented in the form of romance.”

“How is it done?” asked Bickley, almost fiercely.

“I do not altogether know,” she answered.  “This I do know, however, that everything which has happened on this world can be seen from moment to moment at some point in the depths of space, for thither the sun’s light takes it.  There, too, it can be caught and thence in an instant returned to earth again, to be reflected in the mirror of the present by those who know how that mirror should be held.  Ask me no more; one so wise as you, O Bickley, can solve such problems for himself.”

“If you don’t mind, Lady Yva,” said Bastin, “I think I should like to get out of this place, interesting as it is.  I have food to cook up above and lots of things to attend to, especially as I understand I am to come back here tomorrow.  Would you mind showing me the way to that lift or moving staircase?”