k upon Tarrano."

In her abstraction Elza had almost forgotten herself and Tarrano; his
voice reached her--his voice grim and with a gloating, sinister triumph
in it. He was bending to the ground. Elza saw that they had come to an
open space--an eminence rising above the forest. Underfoot was a stony
soil; in places, bare black rock with an outcropping of red, like the
cinnabar from which on Earth we melt the _Heavy-metal_.[23]

[Footnote 23: Quicksilver.]

Tarrano faced her. "Nature, my Lady Elza, is fair to my purpose. I knew
I would find some such deposit as this." He turned his face to one side
attentively, and darted his light--harmlessly yellow now--to where a
lone tree showed its great leaves beginning to waver in a night breeze.

"Nature is with us! See there, my Elza! A wind is coming--a wind from us
to--them!"

The breeze grew--a breeze blowing directly over the forest to where in
the distance the lights of the Great City showed plainly. Tarrano added:

"I had thought to create the wind." He tapped his belt. "Create the wind
to carry our onslaught. But you see, it is unnecessary. Nature is kind,
and far more efficacious than our man-made devices."

_"Jac! Danger!"_ She stood there in the breeze, watching Tarrano--his
purpose as yet no more than guessed--praying that I might receive her
warning.

Tarrano selected his spot--a tiny little cone of rock no bigger than his
thumb. He beckoned Elza.

"Stand close, and watch. You shall see how from the merest spark, a
conflagration may ensue."

The cylinder in his hand darted forth a needle-like shaft--a light of
intense purple. It touched the tiny cone of rock, and he held it there.

"A moment. Be patient, my Elza."

The point of rock seemed presently to melt. Like a tiny volcano, at
their feet, lava from it was flowing down. A little stream of melted
rock, viscous, bubbling a trifle; red at the edges, white within, and
with wisps of smoke curling up from it.

Elza stared with the fascination of horror, for now tiny tongues of
flame were licking about. Blue tongues, licking the air, vanishing into
wisps of black smoke.

Tarrano snapped off his ray. But the tongues of flame stayed alive.
Spreading slowly, soundlessly, their heat now melting the ground.

A breath of the smoke touched Elza's face. Pungent, acrid. It stopped
her breathing. She choked, coughed heavily to expel it.

"Come away, Lady Elza. Let us watch from a safer distance."

He led her