This theory that life itself is electricity makes me pause. . . . What then? Shall I broadcast death? But I will go on. The Electronic Plague—on with the Electronic Plague!
They talked, while a rose and gray
dawn revealed the earth to them
again. Urban went for his machine;
it ran as if nothing had happened to
it, and was now awaiting them by the
roadside.
"Let us get started," he was saying.
"I should think you would despise me. . . ."
"On account of your uncle? But you had nothing to do with all that. I love you and you love me. Your uncle was a cruel and decadent man, but he is dead. It was a narrow escape, but we loved each other, and our love kept us alive. . . . I have been through fire and earthquake in my time, through flood and cyclone. I lived through the influenza epidemic, and now the Electronic Plague. Nothing can kill me."
"It is possible," she ventured, "that all the rest of mankind is dead."
"And only we two living? Hardly. You shall see."
At that moment a folded newspaper described an arc and dropped upon the porch, while the carrier continued on his way with a whistle.
"That fellow at least is a survivor. And the morning paper comes as usual, to tell us all about it. On Doomsday, I verily believe, the papers will be issued with full accounts of the event, and lists of the sheep and the goats."
He opened it eagerly, and they read of a mystified country, interrupted wheels, unconscious people, thousands stricken, hundreds estimated as dead, but many recovering, and affairs in general struggling back to proper functioning.
"This is stupendous," she grieved. "I feel as if I were in some way responsible."
"You shall never be connected with it," he said with conviction. "We are the only two who know, and we need never say a word, though I know a newspaper man who would be grateful for the tip."
"This will haunt me all my life. I must tell. I shall never be merry again as long as I live. Better if I had died too. . . ."
"From now on you shall be happy, for you are going to enjoy life, with me," he consoled her. "Why, many a time I have felt ready to lie down and die, and instead packed up and started for some other spot on the earth. Civil-engineering in Central America . . . with the marines in Haiti . . . teaching in the Philippines . . . back home to Illinois and the farm . . . off again to Texas oil fields . . . just as soon as existence staled and the joy of living evaporated, with me it has been away to pastures new seeking happiness."
"I shall never be happy," she insisted.
"You shall. Try it with me. Here, selling stock in New York, I have been successful and contented. Married to you, everything will be perfect. Why, dear, we love each other, and that settles it. Come. I shall marry you, in spite of your mood, no matter what you say."
And so it was. . . . Later in the day, having attended to their personal affairs, they found a moment to discuss what was to be done about the disaster. They deemed it best to report the matter to authorities at Washington. The War Department took control and ordered secrecy. That was all; except that certain knowing ones declare that the United States can now enforce peace among the nations, and that there will never be another war.
