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expedition. There were a hundred trains of thirty cars each, besides a thousand or more single Motor-Cars, carrying from twelve to twenty persons. Worked on the then latest principle,--ether-driven--the cars and trains swept onward at the rate of a hundred miles an hour. Over head, travelling at the same rate, was a fleet of aerial war-ships, armed with infernal torpedoes, that if dropped into any town or community, would wipe out every living soul, and destroy the stoutest city, in a few minutes. It looked as though the devoted band of Jews and Gentiles who had fled south were doomed. Wild, exultant shouts of ironical laughter and unholy glee burst from the land and aerial pursuers, as they came within a moment or two (at their rate of travelling) of the fugitives. The latter had seen them, heard them, and, as a body, were bowed in prayer for----. They scarcely knew what to ask, for deliverance or for fortitude, so that the essence of their prayer was "_undertake for us, Lord!_" The sky lowered over their heads. They thought it was the aerial fleet hiding the sun--but the winged warriors were not _quite_ come up over their place of gathering. The prostrate refugees remained, to a man, upon their faces. Souls in direct dealing with God have no curiosity as to outside events. Suddenly, like the hiss of ten thousand times ten thousand snakes, a rushing sibilation passed through the momentarily darkened air. At the same instant the earth trembled, and there was an awful, thunderous rumbling in the nether world. Simultaneous with both of these phenomena there came yells and screams, then,--anon--silence. The mass of refugees raised themselves, and stood silent with awe and thankfulness. Sheets of flame had rushed out of the heavens, overwhelmed the aerial fleet of vengeful pursuers, fired the vessels, and hurled men and machines downwards into a mighty gulf. For the trembling, and thundering of the earth had been the result and accompaniments of a terrible earth-quake, that now swallowed up the whole pursuing host--land and aerial, alike. For a moment or two no sound came from the mighty crowd of miraculously-delivered refugees. Then, suddenly, one of the late priests of the Temple, a chorister-priest, burst into song: "_Sing unto the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously. The Lord is my strength and my song, and He is become my salvation: He is my God . . . . My father's God, and I will
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