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Lucien Apleon's Palace, which had been built concurrently with the Temple, and which, in its way, was almost as gorgeous a building, was filled with the ten Kings of the Confederacy, and their suites. Soldiers of every one of the ten nationalities though all wearing one uniform, save that the "facings" were different to denote the land to which they belonged were everywhere to be seen.
A dead hush fell upon everyone present, for as they gazed upon the face of the dead Priest they saw that the whole forehead became filled with the "Mark of the Beast." The silence of this awesome hush was suddenly, startlingly broken by a peal of mocking laughter. It came from Lucien Apleon's deputy, the false Prophet.
For hours, thousands of the people remained within the sweep of the great "Fan," talking of all that had occurred, and more absolutely convinced than ever that Apleon was God their God. Thrice during the next hour after Apleon's departure, three separate faithful souls one of the three a woman raised a testimony against the Man of Sin.
Apleon's chaplain was there, and in a voice heard clearly by everyone at the farthest remove from him, he asked: "Isaac Wolferstein, will you worship "The Lord Apleon?" Wolferstein was hoarse with pain and thirst, but lifting his head proudly, he looked the "False Prophet" full in the eyes, as he cried fearlessly: "Never! Apleon, is a demon, and of his father Beelzebub!"
The first thing which struck Bullen was the fact that, already, every one seemed to be wearing the "Covenant" sign "The Mark of the Beast." He himself appeared to be the only person who was not wearing it. And was it fancy? or did Apleon's eyes fix on him with a momentary scowl.
For if presently, he was going to cause the image of the Beast to cause death to those who defied him, how much more could he himself strike dead by the power of the Satanic energy given to him. Judith Apleon's body was conveyed to the crematorium and consumed. A doctor had certified heart-disease; there was no inquest. Lucien did not attend the funeral.
He summoned Charley to carry his M.S. sheets to the comp. room. The Apocalypse, by Joseph A. Seiss, D.D. p. p. 401. Lucien Apleon's eyes held the cold, cruel malignity of a snake. His brows were cold, straight, unruffled. His smile held the polished brutality of the most Mephistophelian Mephistopheles. Judith Apleon knelt at his feet, her beautiful face working painfully.
He stepped into the upholstered seat, and turned his head to watch the mob, then with that evil laugh of his, he muttered: "Men are but sheep after all, and will follow any bell-wether!" To his waiting driver, he said: "Esdraelon." The next moment the chair rose in the air, and like some wondrous bird soared away, northwards. The swarthy Jew was Apleon's Chaplain, the false prophet.
Then when she stood absolutely nude before them, they smeared the beautiful form with the honey. "Lash her to that pillar," cried Apleon's hellish deputy. He indicated a pillar, adding: "While they will both get the full benefit of the sun, they can see each other lovers are never really happy out of sight of each other!" There was a roar of laughter at this thrust.
"I do not pose as a prophet, friends, but I cannot help thinking from all I read, some of which I have quoted to you, that God's mind for us is that we should make our way into the wilderness beyond here, where God's people of old time went, after God had swallowed up Pharoah's hosts, even as He has just swallowed up Apleon's hosts.
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