Elza's senses were fading. Vaguely she was conscious that Tarrano was carrying her down an incline to the ground. Grateful, cool air. Stars overhead. Trees; foliage; shimmering water. The screams and confusion of the pavilion growing fainter....
When Elza regained consciousness, she was lying in the bottom of a little boat, Tarrano beside her.
"So? You have awakened? We are quite safe, Lady Elza."
She and Tarrano were alone in the boat. It was long and very narrow, with its sides no more than a foot above the water. Tarrano sat at its chemical mechanism. A boat familiar to us of Earth. A small chemical-electric generator. The explosion of water in a little tank, with the resultant gases ejected through a small pipe projecting under the surface at its stern. The boat swept forward smoothly, rapidly and almost silently, with a stream of the gas bubbles coming to the surface in its wake.
She saw that Tarrano's face was blackened with grime. His garments were burned, and hers were also. He was disheveled, but his manner was as imperturbable as ever. He made her comfortable on the cushions in the boat; drew a robe closer around her against the rush of the night air.
Elza was unhurt. She saw now, with clarifying senses, that they were plying along a narrow river. Banks of foliage on each side; the auroral lights in the sky; occasionally on the hillsides along the river, the dim outlines of a house.
It was all a trifle unreal--like looking through a sunglass that was darkened--for around the boat hung always a vague pall of gloom. Tarrano spoke of it.
"Our isolation barrage. It is very weak, but the best I can contrive. From these hills the naked eye, now at night could hardly penetrate it.... A precaution, for they will be searching for us perhaps.... Ah!..."
A white search-ray sprang from a house at the top of a hill nearby. It leaped across the dark countryside, swept the water--which at that point had broadened into a lagoon--and landed upon the boat. It was a light strong enough to penetrate the barrage--the boat was disclosed to observers in the house. But Tarrano raised a small metal projector. A dull-red beam sprang from it and mingled with the other. A surge of sparks; then Tarrano's red beam conquered. It absorbed the white light. And Tarrano's beam was curved. It lay over the lake in a huge bow, bending far out to one side. Yet its other end fell upon the hostile house. The white search-ray from the house was submerged, bent outward with Tarrano's beam. From the house, the observer could only gaze along this curved light. He saw the image of the boat--not where the boat really was--but as though the ray were straight.