Harry interrupted, “Only because of her distrust of the Senestro did she decide to come through the Blind Spot with me.  She knew what to do.  As soon as we got here, she bundled me off, privately nursed me back to health if not strength, and when the time came rushed me up here at the last second to be in at the finish.”

Watson thought of the dog, Queen.  She also had come through just in time to save his life.  Did Harry know anything about her?  When Wendel had related what he knew, Chick commented: 

“It’s almighty strange, Harry.  Everything works out to fit in exactly with that confounded Prophecy.  Perhaps that accounts for your affinity for the Nervina; it is something beyond your control, or hers.  We’ll have to wait and see.”

There was not long to wait.  The days passed.  The palace was full of Rhamdas, summoned by Dr. Holcomb, who, as the Jarados himself, was now issuing orders concerning the great day, the last of the sixteen days, now very close at hand; the day which the Rhamdas constantly alluded to as “the Day of Judgment.”

The Senestro went unmolested.  Returning to the Mahovisal, he worked now to further the truths of the Prophecy.

Still the millions continued to descend upon the Mahovisal.  Coming from the furthermost parts of the Thomahlia, the pilgrims’ aircraft kept the air above the city constantly alive.  There were days such as no man had ever known.  Even the Rhamdas, trained to composure, gave evidence of the strain.  The atmosphere was tense, charged with expectancy and hope.  A whole world was coming to what it conceived as its judgment, and its end.  And—­the Spot of Life was the Blind Spot!

At last the doctor summoned the two young men.  It was night, and the June Bug was waiting.  This time the Geos himself was at the controls.

“We are going to the Mahovisal,” spoke the doctor—­“to the Temple of the Bell and Leaf.  There is still something I must know before the Judgment.”  He was speaking English.  “If we can bring the Prophecy to pass just so far, and no farther, we shall be able to extricate ourselves nicely.  Anyway, I think we shall not return to the Palace of Light.”

He held a black leather case in his hand.  He touched it with a finger.

“If this little case and its contents get through the Blind Spot it will advance civilisation—­our civilisation—­about a thousand-fold.  So remember:  Whatever happens to me, be sure and remember this case!  It must go through the Spot!”

He said no more, but took his seat beside the Geos.  The young men took the rear seats.  In a short time they had crossed the great range of mountains and were hovering over the Mahovisal.

There was no sound.  Though the city was packed with untold millions, the tension was such that scarcely a murmur came out of the metropolis.  The air was magnetic, charged, strained close to the breaking point; above all, the reverence for the Last Day, and the hope, rising, accumulating, to the final supreme moment.