Their ears no sound could now reach.

They could no more detect the rending of a continent than the falling of a feather.
Air, the propagator and transmitter of sound, was absent from her surface.

Her cries, her struggles, her groans, were all smothered beneath the impenetrable tomb of eternal silence! These were some of the fanciful ideas by which Ardan tried to amuse his companions in the present unsatisfactory state of affairs.

His efforts, however well meant, were not successful.

M'Nicholl's growls were more savage than usual, and even Barbican's patience was decidedly giving way.