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