thquake, it is true, but instinct with that curious casuistry
that a certain safety lay in following the ordinary routine of life;
perhaps--who knows?--so great is the egoism of the human spirit--that
the unswerving march of man in his groove might restore the balance of
nature.

After breakfast Isabel went up to her room and dressed hastily and
mechanically in a short walking-suit, as mechanically expecting the same
earthquake to return to the spot associated with it. Gwynne wore his
khaki riding-clothes, but it was doubtful if any one would be critical
in San Francisco that morning. Nothing, as it happened, could have
suited his purpose better, and it was long before he took them off.

When the launch was under way Isabel told Gwynne of the blue flames that
had danced over the marsh during the convulsion. "If electricity is not
a cause of earthquakes, it certainly is let loose by them," she added.
"I expected every moment that we would blow up and fly off into space."

"I saw something of the same sort on the hills, and expected to see St.
Helena spout flames."

In a few moments they were sensible that the constant artificial
vibration of the boat was the most grateful sensation they had ever
known, and of the wish that they could leave it only for a train, to be
transferred at the end of a long journey to another train, and still
another. But these sentiments were not exchanged, and their conversation
was purely extrinsic. Here and there along the shore an old shanty lay
on its side, or had tumbled forward to its knees; but for the most part
dilapidated chimneys and fallen poles were the only visible symbols of
the tumult beneath the smiling beautiful earth. Never had Earth looked
so green, so velvety, its flowers so gay and voluptuous. Even the sky,
now its normal deep blue, had this same velvety quality, the very
atmosphere seemed to breathe the same rich satisfaction. But no birds
were singing, and there was nothing normal in the groups of people,
gathered wherever there were habitations: they wore bath-robes,
blankets, overcoats, anything, apparently, they had found at hand, and
had not re-entered their treacherous habitations. No trains were
running, but the drawbridge that separated the marsh from San Pablo Bay
opened as usual.

Gwynne steered the launch, and his conversation and Isabel's drifted to
speculations as to what had happened in the city.

"Thank heaven I had the foundations of that old house re