Then the fierce-faced Oro at his post, his hand upon the rod, waiting, remorseless, to drown half of this great world, with the lovely Yva standing calm-eyed like a saint in hell and watching me above the edge of the shield which such a saint might bear to turn aside the fiery darts of the wicked.

And lastly we three men flattened terror-stricken, against the wall.
Nightmare! Imagination! No, these pale before that scene which it was given to our human eyes to witness.
And all the while, bending, bowing towards us--away from us--making obeisance to the path in front as though in greeting, to the path behind as though in farewell; instinct with a horrible life, with a hideous and gigantic grace, that titanic Terror whirled onwards to the mark of fate.
At the moment nothing could persuade me that it was not alive and did not know its awful mission.

Visions flashed across my mind.

I thought of the peoples of the world sleeping in their beds, or going about their business, or engaged even in the work of war.

I thought of the ships upon the seas steaming steadily towards their far-off ports.