ommodation of the ark. But were they
interested in what was going on outside? Did they guess at the depth
of the flood, calculate whether this or that town were submerged,
discuss the fate of neighbours and friends, wonder what steps the
Government was taking to meet the crisis? They had very little chance
of getting accurate information. The ark had only one window, and, if
we can trust the artists who illustrate our Bibles, it was a kind of
skylight.

The refugees on Salissa--if refugees is the proper word--were in one
respect worse off than Noah's family. They had no skylight. The
wireless message sent to the Megalian admiral told them that the Great
Powers were at war. After that they got no news at all for more than
two months. The windows, not this time of heaven, but of hell, were
opened. The fountains of the great deep of human ambition, greed and
passion were broken up. Lands where men, unguessing, had bought and
sold, married and been given in marriage, were submerged, swamped,
desolated. Salissa was a good ark, roomier than Noah's, and with this
advantage, that it stayed still instead of tossing about. But not even
Noah was so utterly cut off from all news of the catastrophe outside.

During August and September almost anything might have happened.
Germans might have ridden through the streets of Paris and London.
Russians might have placed their Czar on the throne of the Hapsburgs
in Vienna. The English Fleet might have laid Hamburg in ruins and
anchored in the Kiel Canal. Men might have died in millions.
Civilization itself might have been swept away. But the face of the
sun, rising on Salissa day by day, was in no way darkened by horror,
or crimsoned with shame. The sea whispered round the island shores,
but brought no news of the rushings to and fro of hostile fleets. The
winds blew over battle-fields, but they reached Salissa fresh and
salt-laden, untainted by the odour of carnage or the choking fumes of
cannon firing.

Donovan was probably the only one of the party in the palace who was
entirely satisfied with this position. With the help of Smith he had
demonstrated the efficacy of pacifist methods, and saved the island
from bombardment. In less than a week he removed, to his own
satisfaction, the scandal of Konrad Karl's relations with Madame
Ypsilante. Then he handed the reins of government to the Queen again
and settled down to the business of avoiding exertion and soothing the
disorder of his h