path: root/77867-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77867 ***




                             THROUGH THE SUN
                              IN AN AIRSHIP


                                      “_This I hold
    A secret worth its weight in gold
    To those who write as I write now;
    Not to mind where they go, or how—
    Through ditch, through bog, o’er bridge and stile;
    Make it but worth the reader’s while,
    And keep a passage fair and plain,
    Always to bring him back again._”
                                       +Churchill.+




                             THROUGH THE SUN
                              IN AN AIRSHIP


                                   BY

                       JOHN MASTIN, F.S.A. +Scot.+
               F.L.S., F.C.S., F.R.A.S., F.R.M.S., R.B.A.

                                AUTHOR OF

          “PARASITES OF INSECTS,” “THE TRUE ANALYSIS OF MILK,”
               “PLATE-CULTURE AND STAINING OF AMŒBÆ,” “THE
                  STOLEN PLANET,” “THE IMMORTAL LIGHT,”
                                ETC. ETC.


                        [Illustration: colophon]


                                 LONDON
                     CHARLES GRIFFIN & COMPANY, LTD.
                          EXETER STREET, STRAND
                         [_All rights reserved_]


                  Printed by +Ballantyne & Co. Limited+
                 Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London


                                   TO

                    PROFESSOR SIR HUBERT VON HERKOMER
                       C.V.O., R.A., D.C.L., ETC.

                    AS A SLIGHT MARK OF GRATITUDE FOR
             MANY PAST KINDNESSES THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY
                                DEDICATED
                           BY HIS FORMER PUPIL
                               THE AUTHOR

    +Totley Brook+
       near +Sheffield+, _June 1909_




                                CONTENTS


  CHAP.                                                             PAGE

     I. +The Story of the “Regina”+                                    1

    II. +The “Regina” gives up Her Secret+                            28

   III. +Vox Populi+                                                  41

    IV. +Muscæ Vomitoriæ+                                             65

     V. +An Innocent Offender+                                        85

    VI. +The Doomed Planet+                                          108

   VII. +The Story of a Star+                                        125

  VIII. +A Jovian Bug+                                               140

    IX. +Testing the Web+                                            149

     X. +The Conspiracy+                                             161

    XI. +“The Impregnable Rock”+                                     182

   XII. +Through Fire and Flame and Mystery+                         198

  XIII. +“Vaults of Purple”+                                         213

   XIV. +Between Two Worlds+                                         234

    XV. +Joci Causâ+                                                 253

   XVI. +“A Race of Laughing Philosophers”+                          280

  XVII. +Small Profit and Quick Return+                              306




                                CHAPTER I

                        THE STORY OF THE _REGINA_


                              “... ’Tis a ditty
              Not of these days; but long ago ’twas told.”
                                                    (+Keats.+)

“What’s that for, Gilbert?” asked Ross Ainley, in surprise, as his
chum, Gilbert Eastern, flung an egg into the stream which gurgled past
them.

“It’s rotten, old chap, rotten as a man’s word of honour,” replied
Gilbert. “Thank goodness it’s the last of the batch, and I get no more
from Flatters. He assured me he had manufactured every one and all had
stood Government tests, therefore he could guarantee them. I don’t want
to spoil our little picnic here at the North Pole or I’d go back and
make the fellow eat the thing; see, even that fish discards it!” as a
fish rose to the surface, nosed the egg a little, and then darted off.
“No wonder!” he commented, and then without further remark he reached
for another egg and, cutting off the top of the capsule, at once became
absorbed in extracting the contents—a peculiar pink-coloured paste,
which he spread on a cake of brown meal and commenced to eat in silent
enjoyment. His friend Ross, who had just finished his meal, leaned over
the mossy bank and half filled a drinking vessel with water from the
stream; after sterilising it he rummaged in the basket, and bringing
out a small box extracted a pellet, which he placed in the vessel and
crumbled with his already sterilised fingers. Instantly the water
became turbid, and, a second later, opaque-white as the powder entered
into solution, and he drank off what appeared to be fresh milk. Having
satisfied his thirst, he sprayed some antiseptic liquid on his hands
and the glass, threw his pulp serviette away, and leaving the other
things till his friend had finished also, lay down on his back full
length, with his elbows up and hands clasped under his head, gazing in
silence into the blue sky overhead between their two airships which
were riding at anchor, their vanes gently moving in the wind just
sufficiently to maintain them at an altitude of about twenty feet. They
were in a small clearing in the heart of a magnificent forest which
extended for miles in all directions and was, perhaps, the finest and
most picturesque portion of all that beautiful district of the North
Pole which was appropriately called ‘The Garden of the Earth.’ After
passing through miles of moss and peat and bog, the river Pole entered
this forest some ten or twelve miles distant as a gurgling brook,
tumbling and twisting and twining amongst the boulders in its bed; but
other streams, longing for closer companionship, drew nearer and nearer
till they joined it, and together they all came flowing down in noisy
happiness, whilst the rushes which were swept by the lively water, now
a river, bent their nodding heads lower and lower till they kissed the
sparkling wavelets and reared themselves again in their joy at having
stolen such sweetness. Thus the river Pole swept onwards, an ever
widening and deepening stream, spreading its fragrant influence around
till the trees, shrubs and underwood became almost intoxicated with the
luxuriance of their growth, and expanded their limbs in the ecstasy of
being alive. And in the twilight of the green woods occasional lovers
would be found, walking in its cool recesses and talking of the future,
or perhaps merely walking together oblivious of all save that they were
in love—love too deep for words, too strong and holy for expression in
anything but silent thanks to heaven for the love which _is_ heaven;
such are passed, they unnoticing and being unnoticed,

    “For in love’s domain
     Silence must reign;
     Or it brings the heart
     Smart
     And pain”

and here and there the trees grew more widely apart and clearings were
formed by nature almost specially for picnics and _alfresco_ meals,
for the grass was thicker than any carpet and softer, having a deep
bed of peat, whilst the murmuring stream and the faint hum of insects,
and that delightful and peculiar sound of thousands of branches being
gently swayed by the wind, lent a delightful accompaniment to the
pleasantry and laughter inseparable from young and healthy hearts
which, like the air and sky, are clear and sunny.

To one of these clearings had Ross and Gilbert come for a little
relaxation, because they knew that nature is always ready and able
to give health and vigour to all who seek her, and they made a point
of spending at least one half-day in each week in some spot on the
beautiful earth where they could talk and revel in nature unalloyed,
and after Ross had been looking for a few minutes into the throbbing
ether, where the blue was flecked with streamers of ‘mares’ tails’
which floated in one of the higher strata, he suddenly rolled over to
face his friend and said, seriously,—

“Has it ever struck you, Gilbert, what a wonderful age this is?”

“The age is all right, Ross, so far as I can see,” answered Gilbert,
indifferently.

“I don’t think so,” replied Ross, argumentatively. “It seems to me too
matter-of-fact.”

“What else would you have it? all fancy?” asked Gilbert, still
indifferent, being hungry and absorbed in his meal.

“No, of course not,” replied Ross, musingly, “but it seems to me that
if a little of the past could be worked into the present it would
leaven things a bit.” Here he paused, and as Gilbert did not offer any
remark, he continued,—

“Take that egg, for instance. Natural eggs are never eaten now, any
more than swans and peacocks, yet I don’t see why they shouldn’t be,
though at the bare suggestion of eating a real egg every one would
recoil with horror; but why should they be kept for broods only? They
are wholesome enough, or they used to be, anyway, and if they were
taken from the fowls and other egg-laying creatures, more eggs would be
laid and there would be plenty for all.”

“Probably,” said prosaic Gilbert, “but the real eggs had to be boiled,
and cooked in other ways, and beaten, and goodness knows what, and all
that sort of thing must have been a shocking waste of time. Besides,
the shells are brittle, and if you should by chance sit on a basketful
of them, they would, of course, explode and break and make a nasty
mess, to say nothing of the perfume of a bad one. There is not one of
those objections in a modern egg, and they are wholesome, nutritious,
of fine flavour, will keep for years in these capsules, and if you
jump on one you will merely alter its shape and flatten it; no cooking
is necessary, they are pure and sterilised, and exert an antiseptic
action on the stomach, counteracting any tendency to undue acidity,
ulceration, cancer, and lots of other things—ergo, I say they are
better than the natural article, and not one in a million is faulty,
except by deliberate fraud.” And Gilbert, after this tirade, continued
his meal with renewed vigour, as if to make up for lost time.

“But in this age it is supposed that there is no fraud,” observed Ross.

“Just so,” replied Gilbert, with a kind of ‘I’m busy’ air; “but
ever since man was created some dispositions are and always will be
treacherous.”

“Probably,” assented Ross, plucking a blade of grass and breaking it
into short lengths, “but everything in this world is so cut and dried,
so trite, that I am weary of it.”

“Poor fellow!” said Gilbert, banteringly; “you need your diet changing;
you’re secreting too much bile and it’s giving you the blues. Just
talk and let off as much as you can whilst I finish my dinner; I
was bothering with my anchor while you were feeding; the blessed
thing wouldn’t suck. Now, fire away, and talk yourself into a better
humour—I’ll not interrupt.”

“My humour is all right,” answered Ross, laughing, “but as I lay here
on this beautiful turf and saw our ships riding at anchor, as much
under control as if on the sea, I could not help thinking of all the
past.”

“Think away, old man, only think aloud,” said Gilbert, as his friend
paused.

“You think I’m not serious, but I am, really and truly!” said Ross.
“I was thinking of the changes this district of the North Pole has
undergone. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago it was as it is now—a
beautiful, warm climate; then came a time when things changed and all
turned to ice, and the trees were covered with snow, all approach
being cut off by an impassable barrier of ice, although even then
many explorers believed that at the Pole it was not all frozen; and
in 1878 or 1879, when the explorer Nordenskiold was locked in the ice
in Northern Siberia, and this ice extended as far as he could see,
he proved that here at the North Pole no ice existed; and another
explorer, Admiral Wrangell, I believe, when he was journeying north
from Siberia, found the ice getting thinner and thinner as he advanced
and the climate becoming warmer until he actually got to unbroken
and unfrozen sea and a temperate climate. This was confirmed later
by such authorities as Anjou Hedenström and others. And still later,
between 1905 and 1910, mammoths, stacks of peat, _living_ but frozen
trees, were found by explorers; then a few years later, the conquest
of the air began to be felt as a practical possibility, and science
generally made enormous strides—the time from 1900, or say from 1850 to
1950, was a century of the greatest scientific triumphs of all time,
and electricity became so much used that the climate of the world
altered and the terrible barriers of ice at the poles became no longer
impassable. Then followed, in actual reality, the conquest of the air,
which caused a complete revolution in mechanical progress. After this
came a period of intense scientific research, and about a hundred years
ago was made the great ‘discovery’—which had been expected centuries
before—that _life originated_ at the North Pole (from whence its germs
were wafted all over the world by air and water), and the South Pole
saw its passage to higher and more noble existences.

“About the opening of the twentieth century morality in business had
sunk to a very low ebb; every one was possessed by a craze for making
money—in what manner was quite a secondary consideration—consequently
the richest people were almost invariably the most unscrupulous. At
last the working classes revolted and by sheer force of numbers sent
a majority of working men to Parliament, and by such means obtained
Old Age Pensions. Still they groaned under the dishonest and callous
actions of the moneyed people and employers, and in course of time
they rose up in revolution and swept the country clean. From that time
everything has improved, and though we have in some minor matters,
such as modes of expression and what not, reverted to the style of our
forefathers of about the twentieth century, science has progressed by
leaps and bounds, until now we have got almost to the other extreme,
and everything is science:—we eat, drink, live, move and have our very
being on scientific lines, till one gets tired and weary almost to
death at the mere word.”

“You’ll certainly have to change your diet, old fellow!” put in
Gilbert, laughing, “but go on!”

“I am really serious,” continued Ross, smiling at the sarcasm. “I don’t
believe this world was ever intended for man, and it’s my opinion that
we came here by accident from some other planet.”

“Really!”

“Yes. Just think! where intellectual man is not, vegetation grows to
magnificent luxuriance; so do wild animals, insects, birds and flowers;
all these are made and suited to the world by nature, but directly the
so-called ‘lord of creation’ comes, one of two things must happen—he
must either open out nature and bring it into line with his life and
habits, or he must gradually acclimatise himself to his surroundings by
various doses of malaria, swamp fever, orchid-poisoning and the like,
and by the time he has become immune from these evils and can live, he
is not so healthy or so useful as were the scarecrows of ancient fame.
And wherever numbers live together, so many hygienic matters have to
be considered that healthy living in numbers is, and always will be,
a most serious problem. No, man is about the only animal on the earth
that upsets nature, or is upset by nature.

“Wherever he lives the country suffers, and the rare and beautiful
birds and creatures fly from him as from a pestilence. Take the present
era, for example. Where are all the beautiful birds and beasts our
forefathers wrote about, and all the insects that used to keep the air
sweet and fresh? Man has frightened them away. He kills every insect in
the ground by electricity, and then finds that worms, moles, and other
such creatures aërate the ground and make it healthy, and he gets the
land to stink with rottenness ere he decides to see it, when he could
have seen it before with half an eye had he not been blind; then he
goes to the other extreme and, finding that worms are healthy and good
for the land, he kills every blessed bird lest a single worm should be
destroyed. By that time he gets a little overdone in worms and wants
his birds back. Then the constant use of his electrical appliances
and forces so upset the atmosphere that the moving life in it has
to go higher into purer air, and the airships passing and repassing
at enormous speeds drive the birds still further away and higher,
gradually altering their habits, so that now it is a very rare thing to
see them flying, or even coming down to rest. They do rest, of course,
but only in the forests where people seldom enter, for every one has a
ship of some sort and is always in the air, as if this glorious grass,
this beautiful water, and these shady, magnificent trees were not good
enough for man to enjoy, but he must needs go tearing round the whole
world on every half-holiday. I call it a sin!”

“What an excellent mood you’re in this afternoon!” remarked Gilbert,
as he made a pellet of his napkin and threw it at a darting fish. “I
have finished my meal, and have enjoyed it so much that I am inclined
to look on the world as it is now as being very beautiful, and on the
science of to-day as being the most useful in the world’s history.
It is true the climate of the whole earth has changed, and with it
manners and customs, perforce; but now, every man works at the trade
for which he is best fitted, physically and mentally, and receives
guaranteed Government wages on fixed scale for the work he does. If by
learning and application he can do more intellectual work, he receives
the higher pay, and every one can have his fair trial and none are
oppressed. All shops are under the control of the Government, and no
one can undersell, or buy to better advantage than his neighbour, nor
can there be undue competition, and if any licensed manufacturer
supplies an inferior article, like my first egg, he must return its
equivalent on proof, and he is a loser.

“If, in times past, a man robbed his employer of twenty shillings he
was imprisoned for five years with hard labour, whereas if the theft
was of twenty thousand pounds he was merely cautioned not to do it
again, or at the most imprisoned for a few months without labour, and
the quiet, restful time of serving the sentence invariably set him
up in health at the country’s expense; but nowadays, a man stays in
prison and must earn his keep and expenses, and in addition, enough
to pay back every farthing to the person robbed, who receives an
instalment every month until the loss is made good, or until the
prisoner dies. Thus, not only are the prisons self-supporting and a
profit to the State, but the ‘punishment fits the crime,’ and under the
present business methods anything beyond petty frauds is altogether
impossible. Then there are no poor, no really destitute; and there is
no institution in the world that is not self-supporting, whilst the
excellent system of our finances makes wealth, if not an impossibility,
of little value—for wealth formerly meant power and oppression,
but now the comparatively so-called poor are not poor enough to be
oppressed, consequently the rich have none to oppress, and in most
cases people spend their surplus wealth in scientific research, in
inventing and discovering that which will make life brighter, easier,
and happier to their fellow-men by lifting higher those who chance
to be less fortunate than they themselves. For what use is wealth
to a right-minded man when every man must work and earn enough to
keep himself comfortably, and he knows that when he gets past work
he will receive a pension according to his deserts. Nor can he marry
till he receives a certain salary, and even then his family must not
exceed the calls on his income for their maintenance, clothing and
education, suitable to their station. If he errs in this respect, or
is unfaithful, or betrays anyone, no further offence is made possible
to him. Why! formerly, in the twentieth century, so far as some of the
working men of that period were concerned, one who earned what would
have kept half a dozen families in comfort would drink and gamble
his earnings away, have an unconscionable number of children, and if
he were but half a day out of work he was destitute. With a blissful
selfishness, he would neglect work to go drinking and gaming, to the
utter disregard of the needs of his wife and family, knowing his
neighbours would not let them starve; nor did they. If he were sent
to prison he did not care, for the burden of the maintenance of his
numerous family had to be borne by others who by self-denial had saved
and yet who, for humanitarian reasons, had to deny themselves still
more to help the idler. All that is now an utter impossibility, and yet
you long for the old times, Ross! I don’t. I like, too, to know what
I’m eating, to have everything made under rigid antiseptic conditions,
to have everything condensed and excluded from air, and to know that
what I am swallowing is good and wholesome, anyway.”

“That’s all very well,” replied Ross, flinging fir-needles into the
stream, “but it’s very much overdone. Compression is all very well,
too, but when you come to certain foods and salts which, to begin with,
are indigestible and often quite insoluble in the stomach, and you
compress them to so small a compass that they are as hard as steel,
where are you? One swallows a good dinner, as one thinks, yet most of
it has gone; no stomach, not even that of an ostrich, could digest it.
One tries to realise what a delicious dinner it was, yet no stretch
of imagination can overlook the fact that one gets desperately hungry
quicker than one should. Now, notwithstanding all the science displayed
on my recent meal, I am sure I could eat, enjoy, _and_ digest, a thick,
juicy steak from that salmon there which is just turning a somersault.
Oh yes, hold up your hand in disgust! I’m not going to fly in the face
of custom, because I’m quite aware that the salmon’s great and much
revered ancestor might at some time have swallowed a fly or a worm that
had on it a parasite or some injurious microbe, and therefore, because
of this awful occurrence to its great grandparent thrice removed, it
cannot be eaten without being first dried, sterilised, compressed, and
enclosed in a little antiseptic capsule in which it is guaranteed to
remain, if need be, fresh and pure till the crack of doom, when it may
joyfully rise and meet its family as a pure and wholesome fish. I am
tired of it all! and as I said before I think science, hygiene, and
all the other aids to existence are so much overdone that there will
soon be a reaction, or my name’s not Ross Ainley,” and disgusted Ross
rolled back again and lay looking up at his ship, a beautiful aluminium
vessel, dipping and curtseying to the rippling breeze as if she were
breasting an incoming tide.

Gilbert laughed and exclaimed, “You’re like old Alexander of ancient
fame—paying the penalty of an inordinate desire for conquest. You are
on the top rung of the ladder and because there is no higher rung to
step upon you are disgusted with everything. But who’s that coming?” he
suddenly broke off to exclaim, at the same time pointing to a sparkle
on the horizon caused by the sun’s glinting on an approaching airship.

Instantly the blues and banter vanished, and they watched with interest
the new-comer fly over their heads at great speed, then seeing their
vessels below, immediately pull up, and a man looked over the side and
shouted, “Hallo! Ainley; how are you?”

“Splendid, Oakland. Come down and have a chat; I’ve not seen you for
many a month!” answered Ross.

“All serene!” was the reply as the ship was brought round and lowered
between the two others, an anchor let down which sucked on the turf,
and a pleasant-looking young man was soon standing beside them, to be
cordially greeted by Ross, who introduced him to Gilbert as Dennis
Oakland of electrical fame, and turning to Dennis, continued, “and this
is Gilbert Eastern, the eminent physicist; you know him by repute, and
I am much pleased to make such great men acquainted with each other.”

“And here’s Ross Ainley, the greatest electrician of the day—barring
yourself, of course—the world’s expert!” mimicked Gilbert.

“Oh, I’ve known him some time,” responded Dennis, laughing; “let me
grasp arms with you,” he continued, in high pleasure, and they each
laid a hand on that particular portion of the other’s sleeve which is
specially reserved for cordial greetings, and which is situated on the
upper arm over the biceps; every one being required by law to keep
this part highly antiseptic. This very friendly greeting over, Dennis
resumed,—

“What a lucky dog I am to run across you here in this way. I never
miss an opportunity of making friends and having a chat with every one
I meet, but I never dreamed of such luck as this when I saw your two
ships chumming together like a couple of love birds!” and Dennis went
gleefully on till they all felt as if they had known one another for
years.

They passed from ship to ship, their respective owners explaining the
chief features and special appliances that each possessed, and thus
several hours wore away. Twilight came long ere they had finished and
Bona shone with a fitful light owing to the clouds which had been
slowly gathering, but as she rose in the heavens the sky became clearer
and the country was flooded with her brilliant beams, the three ships,
now almost motionless, casting dark shadows on the ground.

“I see it is Bona’s night out,” said Dennis, looking up at the large
and brilliant disc on which with the naked eye could be discerned
continents and seas, the latter showing like white enamel.

“I prefer it to old Luna myself,” said Gilbert, “although many folk
swear by Luna yet. It must have been a tremendous shock to bring Bona
where she is.”

“Yes,” agreed Ross. “Eastern and I, Oakland, were comparing the past
with the present when you joined us, and he maintains that the present
times are unequalled, but I consider that we have arrived at such a
stage of ultra science that there must be a reaction.”

“I agree with you,” replied Dennis. “It is always so. There never has
been a perfect equilibrium in the affairs of nations and never will be.
We peg away at one scale, filling it till it goes down with a bump, and
then it dawns on our woolly brains that we have overdone it, so we let
that scale severely alone and work away at the other till that goes
down with a bump too. Then we empty both and begin again, to repeat the
blunder.”

All three laughed and Ross remarked: “That is almost precisely what
I’ve been telling Eastern, but he does not see it.”

“No! I don’t,” said downright Gilbert. “I don’t see that we have drawn
near to the time of a reaction by any means, considering that there are
many things which have been commonly known at different periods and
yet with all our ultra science are now a sealed letter. So science is
evidently not at its zenith yet.”

“In the natural course of events things do die out as the use for them
declines, or the phases of life alter, or those with secrets fail
to commit them to writing, or they are lost, but there is nothing
abnormal in that,” answered Ross, lightly.

“But don’t you think that if science is as much advanced as you say,
these secrets would not be lost? Don’t you consider it want of brain,
rather?” objected Gilbert.

“No, not by any means,” said Dennis, “I think it is mere chance.”

“I differ with you both,” argued Gilbert, unconvinced. “I think these
things come in cycles. Take stained glass for instance—not the fired
and coloured glass of to-day, but the real old-fashioned stained glass
that admits the passage of sunlight, the sunbeams remaining untinted
by the glass they pass through, and which gives strange reflections
in a mirror. This was discovered in the seventh century and made in
several countries, proving that the secret was not entirely limited,
yet the art was lost for many centuries, rediscovered in the fourteenth
century and again practised in several countries, and soon afterwards
again lost, to remain so till the twenty-first century, when it was
again in vogue in various places for a short time, soon to be again
lost, and, as you know, thousands of pounds are now being spent daily
in experiments in the hope of the secret being rediscovered, yet it is
as elusive and far off as if it had never been. Now if this is, as you
say, the most scientific age of the world’s history, why the failure?
To my mind, the answer is that the cycle has not yet returned and
when it does, the secret will come out itself, whether it is in the
manufacture, the firing, the glass, or the colours used. Surely you
cannot call such a singular occurrence a mere coincidence!”

“I grant there are unargumentable facts,” replied Ross, “but I am
rather inclined to believe that if the experts in that line were
intensely serious, they would solve the problem, for I think what has
been done can be done again by earnest application.”

“It’s all very well for you to talk like that,” said Gilbert, with
energy, “you’ve always been lucky in succeeding with everything to
which you set your hand, but I myself firmly believe that no amount of
luck will enable things to be done till their time comes round, and you
have taken up the phases of science which were ready to be solved.”

“What about yourself then,” asked Dennis, smiling. “Have you also hit
upon the phases that were ready and waiting?”

“In a great measure, yes,” responded Gilbert. “I have found—as you have
found, too—that there are times when no amount of work does any good;
it is entirely unproductive; and then nature suggests to all minds a
certain course. If the mind is sufficiently receptive, these ideas are
followed and what lay hidden for ages before, perhaps, is now revealed
and may appear wonderful; but I see in it merely the working of an
unchangeable law, a cycle of sympathy of the mental faculties with
material and natural forces.”

“Then I wish some cycle of mental sympathy would come my way,”
exclaimed Dennis, “for I have the hardest nut in the world, and cannot
crack it, so I suppose it must wait till the cycle of fate brings the
sympathetic mind to solve the mystery,” and Dennis laughed banteringly.
“But there is no such luck, so I expect the nut must stay intact till
doomsday.”

“Oh! what mystery is that?” asked the others, at once interested.

“My vessel, the _Regina_,” replied Dennis, nonchalantly.

“What!” ejaculated Ross, spinning round and grasping him on his
greeting-band. “Great Bona! and are you the very Dennis Oakland, the
present owner of that ship?”

“I am, worse luck!” was the rueful answer.

“Why didn’t you say so before?” inquired Ross, surprised. “I had no
idea that the Dennis Oakland who tied with me in the electrical exam
last year was one and the same person as the owner of the famous
_Regina_. I thought you lived in London.”

“No, only for the time of the exam.”

“Had you mentioned Derwent I should have recognised the connection.”

“We are more pleased than ever to meet you,” broke in Gilbert, and once
more the three grasped arms, and from that moment their lives became
full of excitement beyond their wildest dreams, and Ross’s blues were
gone never to return.

“Let us hear all about it,” said Gilbert, hastily fetching a damp-proof
rug, which he spread over the ground for all to sit upon.

“There is very little to tell, if anything, that is not known by every
one, for the history of the ‘Stolen Planet,’ written by an ancestor of
mine, Jervis Meredith, to whom the ship eventually belonged, explains
everything. For many generations the blessed Queen has reigned over our
family and cost us no end of money. In the natural course of events
she has been bequeathed to me, the sole surviving descendant of the
first Jervis Meredith, and I have spent some thousands on her till I
gave it up; I am tired of spending and working to no purpose, for she
became a real nightmare to me, till I got my back up, and I don’t spend
another farthing. She may go to Jupiter, or Sirius, or to any other
spot in creation for all I care!” and Dennis puffed vigorously at his
sterilised cigar.

Instantly his two companions were alert. All thought and desire to
return had vanished, although time was getting on and the stars were
beginning to dot the sky. The river Pole, now in the full light of
the risen moon, Bona, lay before them dazzlingly white, its placid
surface unbroken by so much as a ripple, except when a leaping fish set
in motion a series of circles which spread their dark rings to each
bank. Behind and around in the clearing lay the wood, now black with
shadows, and as they looked before them beyond their vessels, on which
silver lights were chasing ebony shadows, as their gentle movement made
the moonbeams ripple along their surfaces, several belated travellers
slowed up at sight of three standing ships, to ask if they were
stranded and needed help, but to each the trio telepathed a message
that all was well—and soon they were quite alone.

“You should get Ainley, here, to help you,” suggested Gilbert; and
before Dennis could reply, Ross broke in—“I have often thought of
writing to ask if I could see it, Oakland, and had I known you were the
owner I should not have hesitated. If you would permit me I’d take it
as a great favour; I have heard and read so much about the ship that
I’m curious in the extreme.”

“By all means, old fellow,” replied Dennis, heartily, “by all means.
Although I can promise you this, that you’ll know very little more
about it after than you do now; all that is to be known is common
property.”

“I only know what the historians wrote about—the wonderful discovery of
gravity-control—and what the newspapers tell us,” said Ross, “let us
hear all about it from you yourself, will you? and then we shall know
everything.”

“What! to-night?” queried Dennis. “It would take a long time and it is
getting very late.”

“Never mind!” said Ross and Gilbert together. “We can get back to
England in an hour, less if we use top speed, and the sky will be free
now. But, perhaps you wish to return?”

“I? No, any time will do for me,” replied Dennis; so the three settled
themselves into comfortable positions and Dennis commenced the story of
the greatest wonder of the world:

“Before the great crisis of the world’s history, for many generations
there had been so excessive a use of electricity, that the climates
had become seriously disturbed and the whole earth and air so unduly
charged, that there had followed a succession of terrible earthquakes
of so violent a nature as to shake the earth to its very centre.
Then a wonderful thing happened which at first threatened the whole
of creation on this earth—from some cause or other, even yet not
understood, the earth’s gravity became slightly increased. All the
scientists raved at the calamity, as they called it, saying that the
rains would damage the fruit and vegetation, that the sap in trees and
plants would not be able to rise, that muscular exertion would not be
possible, and that all mankind would become too heavy and weary to
live, while the air would become unbreathable. Very soon, however, they
found all as usual, for all being in the same proportion, everything
in nature, animate and inanimate, was just as perfectly adjusted as
before, and many scientists asserted that no increased gravity had
taken place—for as the increase was exactly proportionate throughout, a
pound still weighed a pound, of course. For long the debate continued,
serving no purpose, for even if walking had not been possible it would
have mattered little, for the time was approaching when, all forms of
work coming under government control and wages being paid according to
the work done, almost every one could buy a motor-vessel of some sort
for land or aërial traction, and walking became less and less indulged
in—and probably in a few generations from now humans will find their
legs transformed into wings.

“But to return to actual facts. The strangest change of all, which
drove people to a perfect frenzy and caused not a few to become insane,
was the gradual approach of a second moon; no one knows how, or why;
probably it had been wandering in space and would not have been
influenced at all by earth, but for the increased gravity. Be the cause
what it may, there it was, revolving in the solar system round the
earth half a circle behind Luna, thus lighting up earth when Luna was
hidden, as she is now, and consequently, every night is more or less
moonlight.

“People recalled the records of the wondrous approach of the planet
stolen by the great airship _Regina_, now owned by me, and many thought
the ship had made a secret journey and brought back a second planet, or
perhaps the same as before, but no—the ‘seventh moon of Jupiter’ which
she had created was still attending that planet, and so the new world
must really be a new moon.”

“Had the vessel attracted it, do you think?” inquired Gilbert.

“No one knows,” continued Dennis; “that is a point on which there is
much controversy even to-day, as you know. Anyway, the thing was a
real miracle, for all predicted and feared universal disaster, and
prayers were offered in all places of worship, and a miracle _was_
performed, either in answer to the prayers or in the setting up of
some unknown laws in defiance of all existing known laws, for in
direct contradiction to every expectation, no disaster of any kind
occurred—nothing but good; and as time wore on and the planet’s
influence became felt in the steadying of the tides, and in scores of
other unexpected ways, it was proved to be a heaven-sent blessing and
therefore was named ‘Bona.’

“Then followed another phase of great interest in the _Regina_, for
scientists longed to possess the means of visiting Bona and of finding
out all about her, for the most powerful telescopes revealed little
beyond the facts that there were mountains, seas, deserts, and
peculiar vegetable growth, all of which can be seen faintly with the
naked eye, and the spectrum analysis shows many metals, some familiar
and some strange to us, together with an atmosphere similar to ours,
but drier. It is, as you know, considered that Bona is peopled, but
so far no people have been seen or recognised by us as people, for
we, of course, look for beings such as ourselves. The _Regina_ would
have solved all these difficulties, but she was still quiescent, still
the enigma of science, as she has been since she was built and as she
always will be, I fear. And this brings me to the vessel herself and
how she came to be mine.

“Apart from fiction, only one vessel in the history of the world has
ever actually sailed into the limitless space outside the earth’s
atmosphere, and that one is the stately _Regina_, which has been
unapproachable since the death of the last-surviving inventor, Jervis
Meredith, and the secret of her power to overcome gravity died with
him. It is not necessary for me to tell you the details of this, as you
know them, so I will pass on to later things, for I have already gone
over well-known ground at too great a length, and time is flying.”

“Never mind that, Oakland,” exclaimed Ross, deeply interested,
“proceed”; and Gilbert followed—“It is all so different, somehow,
coming from you; there is a personal note in it which is far better
than history, so tell us all you know, as though we were ignorant of
the whole matter.”

“Yes, do!” begged Ross, and Dennis took up his story.

“Since the time when the _Regina_ made her first serious voyage to the
dog-star Sirius, and brought back the planetoid to the consternation
of the whole earth, and then, shooting the planet back into space,
sent it within the orbit of Jupiter, she had made many voyages; but
you will recall that the secret of the power to overcome gravity and
successfully to manipulate the vessel was committed to writing and
placed in the _Regina’s_ safe previously to that first long voyage
recorded by my ancestor, ages ago. This document was never disturbed,
as the details were firmly fixed in the minds of the two inventors,
Fraser Burnley and Jervis Meredith, who never divulged the secrets.

“These two friends willed their whole interest in the vessel to
the survivor of them absolutely, and it is a matter of history how
Meredith, my ancestor, became the sole owner. Another long voyage had
been arranged—the seventh or eighth since that to Sirius—and both
went to the shed where the magnificent silver-like Queen was housed,
in order to enter for the voyage. Behind them followed the crew and
a number of other people, for the public had been admitted. Fraser
Burnley opened the door, and at the moving of a switch the great
roof slid aside. Evidently forgetting the current was still on, he
impulsively jumped on the ladder and that instant he was annihilated,
even before the cry of warning could form itself on Meredith’s lips.

“Every one round the great doorway saw him, in the twinkling of an
eyelid, de-atomise into vapour and vanish. Not a trace of him was left;
he was completely volatilised.

“Of course the journey was postponed; later on, Meredith, now the sole
owner and the only living person who knew the secret, made another and
many subsequent ascents.

“As age advanced, he felt unequal to the strain such voyages entailed,
falling as it did on him alone—and he would not take any one, even
his son, into his confidence—so he decided to make no more journeys
until he became a little stronger; therefore he housed the _Regina_
in her shed with all the fittings intact, also placing around it the
well-known protective current of de-atomising force. In the hope of
wooing health and strength to return to him, he spent his days in
quietly studying, with the strange scientific instruments brought from
various worlds, the forces of nature on earth and the limitless space
beyond. However, instead of growing stronger, as he had anticipated, he
became gradually weaker, and less and less able to bear any excitement,
but still he would not give in, trying heroically to defy the old age
which was slowly and surely drawing him to his long home.

“At last he felt the unmistakable grip of the kind and friendly hand
upon his heart-strings, gently deadening their vibration, so he thought
he would like to take one last voyage to glorious Venus, his favourite
planet, to which he often went for short visits, and die there; so
he called his son Dennis, after whom I am named, and told him of his
intentions.

“‘But you cannot work the _Regina_, father!’ remonstrated his son.

“‘No, Dennis, I cannot, but you can and shall. Carry me to the shed
and I will tell you what to do to board her, and how the gravity is
overcome, and how to guide her safely, for we’ll go up together; you
the head this time, and instead of being under my care, my lad, I must
come under yours, for I know you’ll look after your feeble old father,
as I have looked after you. And promise me, Dennis, my son, on your
word of honour, that come what may you will never divulge the secret of
the _Regina_ to any living soul unless your end is near, and then only
to prevent its being lost.’

“‘I promise, father!’ replied Dennis, much overcome.

“‘Thanks, my boy, thanks!’ his father uttered, feebly. ‘Now move me
gently, for I am very weak, Denny, very weak; your father’s on his
last legs!’ and he held out his hand to his son; but before Dennis
could grasp it he exclaimed,—‘Oh, Dennis, Denny, my dear, dear boy, I
am dying. Stoop down and I’ll tell you how to get on the vessel. All
details are in the safe and if ... all is so dark, Denny, and I am so
very cold ... closer ... closer ... Dennis, where are you?’

“‘I am here, father dear!’ cried his son, brokenly and in tears. ‘I am
close beside you.’ And he took his father’s hand in his own and came
very close. ‘See, I am here.’

“‘Thank you, Denny. Don’t leave me.’

“‘No, father, I am close beside you.’

“By this time the dying man’s voice was scarcely a whisper. ‘Denny’—and
there was a painful silence—‘Denny, when ... you ... open ... the shed
door ... you ... must ...’—and with this effort his voice failed;
then he gave a faint sigh and fell back dead, and the secrets of the
_Regina_ were lost.

“Dennis spent all the rest of his life trying to solve the mystery,
and his son did the same, and for generations my ancestors have made
electricity their life’s study, as I have made it mine, in the hope of
elucidating the mysterious force that could defy time and the elements,
even the blasting force of lightning—for many and many a time have
I and other people, too, seen the vessel struck by lightning which
has devastated the shed, but the flash has been met by an answering
flash from the vessel; and often have the whole forces of heaven’s
electricity been drawn to the magnificent ship, and there has started
from the _Regina’s_ sides a series of incessant flashes—curtains of
blinding flame—and her silver sides have seemed to ripple electric
fluid, in sparkles and drops of rainbow-coloured fire, like the
dripping of water from a salmon leaping through a sunbeam. And in the
very centre of the storm the brave vessel has seemed to enjoy the
uproar; wave after wave of crackling lightning pouring over her in a
flood of livid fire, awful to see, and, always victorious and unharmed,
she seems to take on her whole surface a smile of derision at nature’s
puny and childish attempts at injury. So has she stood through all
the years; defying time, apparently defying eternity, and not even her
timber supports affected or disturbed.

“Time after time have the authorities in succeeding generations made
determined attempts to blow her up, notwithstanding the fact that she
is private property, but all to no purpose. No one knows how many
times the walls of the shed have been rebuilt, for storms, dynamite,
gun-cotton, rystosol, scores of other explosives, lightning and what
not, have levelled them to the ground, too often for record, but she
still remains perfect as when last used and altogether unapproachable
by person or thing. In her safe lies the greatest secret the earth has
ever known, the secret that can play with gravity, and yet it is as far
out of our reach as is the most distant star.”

Here Dennis paused a moment to select a fresh cigar, but his listeners
were too deeply interested to say a word which might break the thread
of his story, so he resumed,—

“Until this annihilating force can be cut off, any thing or person
brought within twelve inches of any part of the vessel’s surface or
projections is volatilised. As I have said, my ancestors have devoted
their lives to the subject, and after all these years of toil and
enormous expense, the mystery is as impenetrable to human minds as is
the occupation of the dead—and yet what wonders have been, and still
could be, opened out if this secret could but be found!

“In weird and awful majesty the _Regina_ rests on her
blocks—impregnable, unapproachable, indestructible; and so she can
remain so long as this world lasts, aye, to all eternity! Although
within sight and touch, nothing has been known to pass the protecting
current. The shed has to be kept well secured lest any one should
inadvertently enter within this invisible zone, and enter eternity at
the same moment.”

Here Dennis paused, and Gilbert asked: “What has been done recently—say
in your father’s time?”

“My father spent all his life in trying to find some switch or other
controlling force, without success.”

“But there must be some wire or secret switch near the door, or the
inventors could not have controlled it,” argued Ross.

“And it must have been a very secret switch, or they would not have
gone into the shed intending to use it before all the people,” urged
Gilbert, “else the vessel would not be safe if the source of its
control were known.”

“So it was thought,” answered Dennis, “and my father, when I was a
youth, gradually took down the whole of the wall, piece by piece, in
the hope of finding some wires, but nothing was seen, and I myself have
done the same thing with a like result.”

“Have you tried the floor?” inquired Ross.

“Yes, certainly, that has been up, too,” replied Dennis.

“Have you gone deep? Have you tried tunnelling under the vessel?” asked
Gilbert.

“Yes, and a remarkable thing happened,” said Dennis. “The floor and
foundations of the walls can be taken up and have been up many a time.
I dug down to a great depth, leaving that portion on which the vessel
rests and plenty all round it, so that she should not fall, going
so deep that she stood as on a monument. Nothing resulting, I felt
desperate and told the men to tunnel underneath and blow the lower
rock and earth away from below, so that she should topple over. They
blew all the earth away, but she would not come down, nor did she move
so much as a hair’s-breadth—her gravity and that of the earth were
in equilibrium. There she remained, suspended in air, resting on her
blocks, with a foot or so of earth below them, and a pick, or indeed
anything else, brought within a foot of the earth below the blocks, or
the vessel, over or beneath, was at once rendered vaporous. The whole
thing was so uncanny that it was months before I could get the pit
filled in and then I had to pay well. So far I have spent the best part
of my life over the problem and have failed, so I built up the shed as
before, fastened it securely, and I do no more!”

“That is a pity!” said Ross, musingly.

“Why should I spend all my substance on what cannot be discovered? For
years many of the first electricians and scientists of the day have
spent thousands on her and all to no purpose; all in turn have had to
acknowledge themselves beaten.”

“It need not cost you anything, you know, for the Government gives
grants for such things,” remarked Gilbert.

“No, thank you, Eastern,” replied Dennis, decisively. “You will recall
that my much-esteemed ancestor and his friend obtained a warrant signed
by his Most Gracious Majesty, King Edward VII., by which they retained
the right of keeping the secret unmolested for ever. Now, if I received
any Government aid, I should forfeit my right—or it would be forfeited
if some Government-paid scientists found it out. They could not in
fairness refuse to tell those who had financed them, nor could I under
similar circumstances. No, my people have always paid for everything
and so do I. I am not going to run any risks of the Government getting
hold of my ship, notwithstanding my love for science.”

“Would you mind if I try?” asked Ross.

“Would I mind?” repeated Dennis, highly pleased. “I should be
delighted! Only I must make this stipulation, that if you succeed you
tell no one except me.”

“Not our friend Eastern, here?”

“We’ll see about that later,” replied Dennis, laughing.

“Oakland,” exclaimed Ross, earnestly, “I promise you faithfully that I
will reserve nothing from you that I may discover, and all from every
other soul so long as I live; if any one else is to know, you shall
tell them. I am deeply interested in this, for it is a matter after my
own heart.”

“Then commence when you like and I will pay for all that is necessary,”
responded Dennis. “When can you start?”

“At your convenience, Oakland,” answered Ross, aglow with zeal.

“Then we’ll make a beginning to-morrow. Both of you come over to
Derwent and we’ll go into the matter. And now we must be off; we have
talked Bona to her setting and old Sol is just rising.”

The trio of new-formed friends then entered their respective vessels,
and a few minutes later three airships were swiftly flying to England
and home.




                               CHAPTER II

                    THE _REGINA_ GIVES UP HER SECRET


              “And now I will unclasp a secret book,
               And to your quick-conceiving discontent,
               I’ll read you matter deep and dangerous.”
                                           (+Shakespeare.+)

The day following, the three friends met at Dennis’s home, and at once
proceeded to the shed in which the stately _Regina_ was housed. On
entering, Dennis moved a switch and a revolving steel shutter slowly
descended from before one side of the shed, the whole of which was
lined with thick glass; at another movement a similar shutter slid from
above the glass roof, and a third movement caused this roof to fold
itself up and slide aside, leaving the top open to the sky throughout
its entire length.

Both the visitors uttered an exclamation of delight at sight of the
stately vessel, the lines of which sent them into raptures of pleasure
and wonderment.

“You are a lucky dog, Oakland, to have a creature like that all your
own!” said Gilbert, enthusiastically. “What is the material?”

“I don’t know,” replied Dennis; “no one knows beyond that it is some
untarnishable alloy, probably from the fact that no one can examine it.
See, I throw this hammer at it and you will see it de-atomise,” saying
which, with a fine disregard of tools, he lifted up a heavy steel
hammer and flung it at the vessel, but when it came within about a foot
of the side it suddenly vanished and there appeared a little puff of
faint, thin vapour—the gaseous atoms of the missile—which became mixed
with and lost in the air of the shed.

“There’s an enormous force there,” observed Ross, amazed. “What
generates it? Batteries?”

“No one knows,” answered Dennis, “that is one of the mysteries. If it
came from the engines or dynamos on the vessel, they would have been
run out or worn out ages ago; we should also hear motion of some kind,
but you will notice everything is silent as the grave. Listen!” and
they all remained mute and motionless for a few minutes, but not a
sound disturbed the vault-like quietude.

“Batteries would be equally out of the question,” remarked Gilbert;
“apart from the quantity needed to give a constant current of that
strength, they would require recharging and replenishing, and perpetual
motion has not yet been discovered.”

“That is so,” agreed Ross. “I think we must seek some other cause,
some means by which the force is spontaneously extracted from the air
or earth around. You know our airships have no engines to drive the
motors; we gather the necessary power for this direct from the air by
the aid of certain metals which, when alloyed in given proportions,
attract electricity to any desired volume and under perfect control,
and I think some such force is here. Have you tried any of the active
metals?”

“Yes, all; everything!” replied Dennis. “She is a strange anomaly; she
has engines and motors which are necessary for her flight in some way,
and yet there is a continuous current, as you see, which apparently
comes from nowhere. And one would think that if such a force is
self-generating, engines and motors would not be necessary. The whole
thing is a mystery; especially when you consider that one might almost
imagine her to be alive, or that some demon is on board who manipulates
the forces, for if any electric energy or metal comes in her vicinity,
she seems to get her blessed temper up and literally fights. At the
mere approach she crackles all over and throws out sparks of fire and
lightning that have more than once blasted the shed to the ground,
and everything has had to be strongly insulated, or there would be
an electric storm;” and Dennis drew their attention to the building,
saying, “You will notice all the tools are insulated and the whole
interior of the shed lined with sheets of thick glass cemented
together, the masonry and shutters being on the outside.”

After examining the building, Gilbert remarked,— “You mentioned last
night, Oakland, that the gravity of the ship and the earth were equal;
consequently she possesses no weight and could be floated off. Have you
tried strong blasts of air? Theoretically, a breath would waft her.”

“I have had fans and blowers, but the strange force around her stops
everything. I have even made fires underneath, thinking to sink her
by rarefying the air (and so causing her to settle as the air became
thinner), but she did not move. It is exasperating when one knows she
would divulge everything if one could but get aboard. She is also such
a source of danger and terrible care to have on one’s mind, that if you
cannot win her it is possible you may find some means of destroying
her; I really don’t mind which! But there she stands in the most
aggravating fashion, quietly defying everything and everybody,” and
Dennis’s annoyance was evident and excusable.

“As you say, Oakland,” remarked Ross, “she’s a tough nut to crack, full
of apparent anomalies and impossibilities and, while uncontrolled,
dangerous in the extreme. Have you tried to register the strength of
the current?”

“Yes, but it is unregisterable. Nothing, no matter how strongly
insulated, can pass the zone, in which there is no demarcation. The
dial shows no current at all till it reaches the protecting belt,
not even when moved by micrometer screws working in gear, and there
is a point when nothing is recorded; the next turn forward, even of a
two-millionth of an inch, and the whole apparatus is vapour. I have
used some scores in this way, but these are expensive experiments.

“I have thought several times of encasing myself in an exceedingly
effective insulating suit and making a dash for the ladder, or dropping
on deck from above, for then I might get below to the safe, but when
I tested the suit first, filled with sawdust, by dropping it from the
roof, it never reached the deck but became vapour, so I was glad I had
experimented with a dummy.”

“Not a bad way of getting rid of rubbish,” said Ross, laughing.

“Yes, but a little too dangerous,” replied Dennis, “especially if it
had been me instead of the sawdust,” and he laughed boisterously, when,
seeing the others looked slightly mystified, he stopped abruptly and
continued soberly,—“Do you think, Ainley, that you could do anything to
crack this nut if Eastern helped you?”

“We will try,” Ross replied, speaking also for his friend. “The secrets
of the pyramids and the sphinx have been laid bare, and maybe this
beautiful creature shall float again,” and his voice took upon itself
a more serious tone as he continued,—“Oakland, it is often said that
the whole current of lives and destinies of persons and countries may
be changed in a moment as if by chance, and, with your permission, we,
Gilbert and I, for we talked it over last night after you left us, will
give up our present work and devote the rest of our lives if need be to
cut this Gordian knot, and if we fail, we may pave the way for others
to bring this treasure under control again.”

Before Dennis could reply, Gilbert said, eagerly, “I will stand by my
friend Ross and you, Oakland, in this work all my life, if I may, and
if we do not succeed we can die at our unfinished work!”

“Thank you, my friends!” responded Dennis, somewhat overcome; “you
shall not regret it. Let it be so. I had not intended spending another
moment on her, but your enthusiastic devotion to science has warmed my
blood, and from this moment I will work with you and we will all devote
our lives to this one object, whether it demands little or the whole of
them, and our interests shall be united.”

All were deeply moved, and the whole of that and many subsequent days
were taken up in going through papers and books containing particulars
of the work done in previous years. Ever since the death of the
first Jervis Meredith, the succeeding generations had recorded all
the details of their work, and had dealt with the problem in such a
masterly manner as appeared to leave nothing to be tried that had
not been done already. After the three had gone through everything
together, weighing each step of progress carefully, the enigma became
more and more puzzling. For weeks they spent every moment working and
discussing, bringing all the latest science to bear on the previous
work; and month followed month till at the end of two years they had to
acknowledge themselves hopelessly vanquished, for there seemed nothing
more to try.

During this time several storms had occurred in the neighbourhood, and
they had witnessed the whole interior of the shed, to the insulating
glass casing, as one mass of awful lightning and electric discharge,
which had left the vessel serenely victorious. In one storm they were
watching through glasses at a safe distance, the peculiar form the
discharges took gave them an idea upon which they acted, after careful
discussion together.

Two months later the solution seemed solved; but was it?

Like three schoolboys they approached the airship in great trepidation;
up to a few minutes previously, for centuries everything brought
near its surface had been instantly volatilised, irrespective of
its substance and chemical composition; and in the first flush of
excitement, they had joyfully flung their hats at the ship and they had
struck the hitherto defiant Queen, now docile and manageable again,
for the hats were resting on the supporting stage on which they had
fallen—the first time for centuries that anything had passed that
awful zone of destruction. Would _they_ pass, or become vaporous?
Dennis insisted on being the first to venture, saying he could not
allow others to do that from which he shrank, and amidst great emotion
he grasped sleeves with both his friends, bade them good-bye, and
one second later he was standing on the ladder top, where no living
creature had expected to tread. The instant the anxious watchers saw
Dennis touch the ladder they rushed for it and ran up like a couple of
monkeys, reaching the platform almost as soon as he, and tingling with
excited enthusiasm, the three passed through the vessel to the safe.

Dennis knew from his papers where the keys were, and unlocking the
desk drawer, the key of which had been handed down to him through the
past generations as a sacred heirloom, he obtained the _Regina’s_
safe-keys, and soon the sheets of drawings and details were lying on
the table, all three almost devouring them in their eagerness, for
now the greatest secret of the world was about to be disclosed. Their
scientific matter-of-factness gave place to boyish and exuberant
delight which could not be repressed. They took the precaution to
reconstruct the protecting force to prevent intrusion—although the shed
had been locked before putting their discovery to the test—and then
they became so absorbed in the study of the minute descriptions of the
mechanism and forces now at their disposal that twelve hours passed
unheeded.

“This is stupendous!” at length exclaimed Gilbert. “There is enough
force here to destroy the world! And now we have gone through
everything and know the principle, it is easy enough to work it
blindfold, almost. But what’s the matter?” he asked, looking at Dennis,
who stood perfectly still, listening.

“I fancied I heard voices in the shed,” he replied, “but I am sure we
locked the door, I went back to see.”

“It would be awkward if any one came too near the ship,” said Ross;
“although every one knows the danger. I’ll just look outside.” He
stepped up to the observatory and was astonished to find the door down
and the shed crowded with people.

Calling the others up, the three stood and watched, and, gently opening
the door a mere chink, they heard every word spoken below.

The crowd was greatly excited, and one man, Richard Howett, the chief
personage in the town, said,—

“My friends, it is with extreme regret that we learn of the deaths of
our townsman, Dennis Oakland, and his two friends, Ross Ainley and
Gilbert Eastern, all men of high standing and renown. It needs no proof
to convince us that they have shared the fate of all the foolhardy
people who previously have ventured too near this magnificent but fatal
vessel, for they were seen to be working here yesterday and have not
returned. The door was locked on the inside and you see there are no
hiding-places, and they could not return except by means of the door
which we have just broken down, so that the calamitous fate they have
met is most deplorable.”

Here the three listeners chuckled, unconscious of which the speaker
continued,—“As soon as the news of a possible disaster reached me, I
obtained the permission of the authorities to break open the place and
blow up the vessel, as a danger and menace no longer to be tolerated.”

“That has been tried many a time, and no explosive has ever been able
to touch it,” objected some one in the crowd. “When I worked for Dennis
Oakland, some five or six years ago, he himself tried to blow up the
ship, but he only brought the shed down.”

“What explosive did he use?” asked the first speaker.

“We bored under the ship and he used rystosol, which blew the whole
place down and the foundations also, but the vessel stayed where she
was, hanging on air, and none of us would work at it again.”

“That is strange; nothing has ever been known to withstand it. However,
we will try a very heavy charge. All of you except three volunteers go
outside to a safe distance.”

As they made a movement for the door, and about twenty volunteers
stepped forward instead of the three asked for, Dennis, remembering one
of the early experiments of his ancestor, told his friends to look out
for some fun and instantly altered the de-atomising force to one of
protection only, so that any one touching the vessel would receive an
electric shock of sufficient strength to teach him caution, but not to
prove injurious. He then moved a switch, gently at first, as he was not
sure if the power really was as much under control as the instructions
stated. Very slowly all the people in the shed became lighter; one man,
his former workman, taking a stride towards Richard Howett, stepped
right over his head, landing with one foot on the _Regina’s_ outer
deck. With a yell of fright he slid down her sloping sides, but long
before he could reach the ground he was so light as to be floating
about like a butterfly. In a panic the whole company made a dash for
the doorway, but ere they could reach it Dennis made them sufficiently
light to float about in the room a few feet above, their vain efforts
to jerk themselves downwards low enough to pass out causing them to
look like living corks bobbing up and down in water, and to the
three watchers it was indescribably funny to see the consternation
on the faces of the floating citizens, who could not comprehend the
situation. After they had taken the edge off their mirth, the three all
stepped on the outer deck, which they insulated—for any part of the
vessel and surroundings could be insulated or brought in circuit at
will—and the sudden sight of the supposed victims in the very zone of
death caused several of the floating people to give an exclamation of
terror, thinking they were spirits. Dennis saw this and addressed them,
tragically,—

“Ye floating spirits, what would ye! Come ye to this abode of death
to attend our apotheosis? Why come ye to disturb our repose?—Gently,
gently, my friends!” he interjected, as he wafted off, with a wave of
his hand, a few of the people who were drawn towards him with the air
disturbed by his movements. Then the laughter of his two companions
broke the spell, and many of the people laughed and cried, for all were
hysterical and frightened, and some called on him in terror to spare
their lives.

“We’ve gone far enough, Dennis!” remonstrated Gilbert. “Let them down
gently, or they’ll faint with fear!”

Wafting and blowing away a few more who came too close, Dennis resumed,
this time speaking in his usual tones,—

“My friends, do not be alarmed! We are not ghosts, but real flesh
and blood and very much alive—excuse me!”—as he blew off a couple
clinging together for protection. “My friends and I have discovered the
long-lost secret of my ship, the _Regina_, now _our_ ship, for my two
friends, Ross Ainley and Gilbert Eastern, join me in the ownership from
this moment, and in order to prove to you that we really have found the
secrets, the chief of which is the one and only scientific method of
adding to and overcoming or depriving of gravity, we thought we could
not do better than give you an actual demonstration of the fact, in
return for your kindness in breaking down my door—our door, I should
say—in order to favour us with this visit, the object of which is now
frustrated, though you may be sure we appreciate your good intentions
none the less. You will perceive—pardon me!” as he sent a few more
away with a wave of his hand—“you will perceive that you have been
made lighter, and were it not for the retaining walls of the shed,
you would float away and for ever remain as far off the ground as you
are now, and if weighted down you would inevitably rise on the weight
being removed; also if you were made lighter still you would float
upwards through the roof. For some reasons this would be an advantage,
for in this age of aërial navigation it would be pleasant to know that
in case of disaster you could never come crashing to earth, but would
only fall through the air till you arrived at your equilibrium, or
correct specific gravity, and the lower air would make your descent
like that of a high diver in water, and you would have always a deep,
soft cushion of air to fall upon on which you could take no hurt. Some
of you, however, have business on the ground, and as some sage once
suggested, if the ground will not come to you, you must perforce come
to the ground—steady!”—as another citizen floated too near. “I notice
several of you have already lost your tempers, which is bad for the
nerves; you see we are quite placid and cool, though you have damaged
much of our property, and had we not appeared in time, you would have
blown the whole building to dust. For this you must forgive our joke;
we do not bear malice, neither must you, and those who are not prepared
to take this as a jest—and you can see it is perfectly harmless—I
propose to float upwards just within the walls, with their heads only
above the top till they are willing to see it in that light. I see
several are looking alarmed, but I can assure all those who want to
go up that they will come to no hurt; they cannot fall, and will be so
light that they could not injure themselves, even wilfully, by bumping
against the walls. To those who are convinced of the _Regina’s_ power,
we will restore their former weight, and after we have had an hour to
prepare the vessel, they shall be conducted by us through the ship,
where no foot has trodden for centuries till yesterday, and they will
see that after this lapse of time everything is as perfect and dustless
as if just new, for the protecting force that has caused the death
of several people has preserved the vessel from damp, heat, and even
dust. We want that hour to cord the way, for the mechanism cannot be
shown you and whoever goes beyond the cords will pay the penalty with
his life. We do not anticipate throwing the vessel open to general
inspection again and you only shall have this privilege. Now, all who
desire to forgive and forget, please raise a hand!” Dennis looked
round and proceeded: “I am much pleased to see there is not a single
dissentient, and that smiles have replaced frowns. In a few seconds’
time you will be restored to your personal comfort and weight.” Here
Dennis nodded to Gilbert, who entered the vessel and slowly removed the
switch back to zero; as gradually did the people fall.

When they knew there was no danger and that they had not been suddenly
transformed into angels—which many had often expressed a desire to
become—they could see the humorous side; who could not? for who
could remain serious and see sixty or seventy people of all ages and
conditions bobbing up and down light as feathers, actually blowing one
another away? Even before they reached the ground tears of laughter
were on all faces as they struggled to congratulate the three owners,
in the best of good humour. After the preparation they went round
the vessel and saw what even in that enlightened age were hitherto
inconceivable wonders, and finally the vessel was cleared, the outside
protected as before, in proof of which several missiles were hurled
within the zone and all present saw them vaporised. Willing hands
helped to fix up the door as before, and the shed was closed and locked
securely to shelter the gigantic Queen, still a deadly enigma to all
in the world except three persons, but to them a kind and gracious
mistress, ready and willing at any moment to do their bidding and to
carry them to the utmost confines of creation, to open out wonders and
mysteries hitherto beyond mortal ken.

Weary as they were, they sat talking the matter over for several hours,
and then retired to rest, feeling that life was indeed worth living and
work a blessed privilege.

Needless to say, the instant the people had got outside the shed news
began to travel far and fast; before nightfall it was telepathed all
over the world, and airships by scores came to Derwent; the sky was
full of them, almost every stratum of atmosphere having hundreds of
ships jostling one another, each hoping to catch a glimpse of their
wonderful rival; but the _Regina_, in her protected and armoured shed,
was safe from all observation and theft. The door, which had only been
partially fastened when the crowd broke in, was now thoroughly secure
and in electric circuit.

Twice the same night Dennis’s house was broken into and the three
friends were roused by the alarms, which at the same time frightened
the would-be thieves, who no doubt thought the papers might have been
brought away for examination, notwithstanding the self-evident fact
that no place in the world could be more secure than the _Regina_ safe.

The following day a deputation from the Government with the State
authority and seal waited upon Dennis and asked for the _Regina_
and her secrets to be handed over to the Government. On this being
refused, they demanded it, then threatened, trying to bluster the
secrets out of the discoverers by force and threats, but at every
outburst they were referred to and shown a copy of the warrant of
absolute protection granted by H.M. King Edward VII., of blessed
memory, and his Parliament, centuries before. Eventually the deputation
had to return foiled, for not even the Government could go beyond that
warrant.

Untold wealth and high positions were offered, but what is wealth when
all have enough and none can be oppressed? No, the _Regina_ should not
be bought, she was too precious to be sold; she should be the sweet,
lovely and gracious Queen to the end, and _give_ her power for the
cause of science, for the good of the whole human race; she should
benefit the people and lead them to the contemplation of higher and
nobler things, and be really and truly in everything their Queen—not
for any personal gain to her supporters, but to unfold before all men,
as only she could, the wonders of creation which would otherwise be
hidden.




                               CHAPTER III

                              _VOX POPULI_


  “In my morning’s walk I culled a handful of flowers, some with
  thorns, which I found made the smooth stalks easier to carry.”
                                                 (+Giranoli.+)

From time immemorial it has been the custom to celebrate every special
occasion with a more or less gorgeous feast, at which, especially from
the eighteenth to the twentieth century, men drank to intoxication, and
not only those who had over-indulged but the majority of those who were
sober, were not considered sociable or properly educated if they could
not narrate coarse, trivial and lewd stories, and turn every innocent
expression to obscenity during the whole course of the evening; but in
these times, when everything is chemically made and repasts partaken
of under hygienic conditions both as regards morals and intellect, the
food is wholesome and sustaining, and the conversation, instead of
leaving a sear on the minds of those obliged to sit and listen to it,
is good and elevating, and leaves no objectionable taste and feeling.
Thus, when Dennis, Gilbert and Ross followed the usual custom and
celebrated the discovery by a banquet, at which all the subjects of
the harmless joke in the shed were present, the gathering was a great
success and those who sat down rose again afterwards with thoughts and
lips as pure as before dining, and the event recalled nothing but
pleasant and wholesome memories later.

In all the years of the world’s history human nature has on the whole
gradually improved, but there are certain traits which are embedded
in the hearts of men and do not reflect happily on an otherwise
enlightened age. One of these quickly asserted itself. Directly it
became known that the lost secrets of the _Regina_ had at last been
found, many people belittled them, and though they knew how important
was the discovery they held up the matter to the most unseemly
ridicule. Even when faced with the question of the proof in the
validity of history, they averred positively that gravity could not
be overcome; that nothing could travel through limitless space and be
under perfect human control, and because these cavillers had no part
or share in the discovery, they sneeringly declared there was neither
discovery nor honour in the resuscitation of the ship, and they had
many followers, for people are like sheep and must be led; such as
these cast slights and doubts on the honours and attainments of others
as being beneath their notice till perchance similar honours come
within their own reach, to be grasped with delight and paraded before
all men as being exclusive, difficult of attainment, and having the
hall-mark of high honour.

Thus it came about that sceptics innumerable rose up and discounted
all proofs of the _Regina’s_ power. No proof could be sufficiently
strong to convince them, short of making them a present of the vessel,
for which they could not very well ask though they wanted it all the
same; others also professed incredulity unless the whole of the secrets
were laid bare before them, and when this proposal was treated with
derision, they said the owners were afraid of the consequences, knowing
the matter would not bear investigation.

In former times—particularly about the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries—the British government dealt with matters so slowly that in
many cases the need for action had passed long before the decision to
act had been arrived at, and when this action was by time rendered
unnecessary or perhaps impossible, further consideration was indulged
in to countermand the previous decision, the pros and cons of which
took up so much time that when the fiat had gone forth that no action
was necessary, the time had then come round for a decisive move to be
made. All this used to please the heads of the government in those
days, for they gloried in what was then called ‘red tape,’ which was a
term understood to mean refusing to grant what was needed when wanted,
and compelling acceptance when neither wanted nor necessary. This was
the essence of parliament in times past and business of world-wide
importance would readily be put aside indefinitely, in order that some
hundreds of members could debate at length on more urgent questions,
such as “When expecting friends to tea on the Terrace, are members
compelled to take a parliamentary bath first, and are towels a suitable
costume in which to vote or entertain?”

Fortunately ‘red tape’ had rolled away with the old order of things;
the government was now alive to the country’s interests, and the
officials were almost always first in the field, often before the
ordinary people had realised the necessity for action. This was proved
by the hurried meeting that was called after the discomfited deputation
had left Dennis, when one of the chief officials was deputed to go
alone, on the assumption that one might find out more and be more
confidentially treated than a deputation. Solomon Magson was therefore
selected because he was one of the smartest of officials, though he
suffered from _caput inflatum_, which is a disease especially prevalent
amongst the young though it has been known to attack those of maturer
age, as in this case.

Solomon at once called upon the friends at the shed and introduced
himself, demanding full particulars or forbidding the use of the
vessel. At this Dennis laughed derisively, saying, “My dear Solomon
Magson, as you put it that way we can only point out to you that not
all the opposition in the world could prevent it, as I will prove to
you. Will you kindly take hold of this bar?” and he handed a bar of
steel to his visitor and asked Gilbert to de-atomise it; instantly the
bar dropped like a melting candle and became a pool of liquid steel.
The visitor was visibly astonished, but remarked, loftily, “Ah, yes!
gentlemen, but that is a trick; it is, of course, steel specially
prepared for the experiment; it is very pretty!”

“No, it is the ordinary best steel, as you will find if you analyse it.
Take a bottleful of it; you will notice it runs like quicksilver, but
there is this difference, that neither by heat, cold, nor anything you
can bring to bear on it will it alter and become solid again; till we
give it the power of cohesion,” said Dennis, “it will remain fluid as
water.”

“You _say_ so, but it is obvious I cannot test it here,” and he gave a
superior smile.

“You are still unconvinced?” asked Ross.

“I have seen no substantial proof as yet,” he replied; “gravity is not
affected.”

“Here is another bar,” said Dennis, “we will cut this in two and make
one half light and the other heavy,” saying which the bar was broken
and the roof being open, it was placed on end, instantly to shoot up
like a rocket with a whizzing scream, to become white-hot and fall
into dust; the other portion was placed on the same spot and the
current reversed, when the bar sank into the earth like water and
vanished. Again the supercilious official smiled and observed: “Very
entertaining, very! I see you have plenty of pretty experiments for
visitors.”

“Not convinced yet?” asked Dennis, brusquely.

“I fear not!” the visitor smiled.

“Just stand here, please, opposite the vessel,” said Dennis, drawing
him from the end of the shed, at the same time giving a nod to Ross,
who passed up the ladder and inside. “You shall have full proof,” he
continued, as he walked away.

Instantly the visitor rose like a lark half-way up the shed, when
several vessels passing in the air slowed up in curiosity, so Ross
closed the roof and steel shutters and then sent the sceptical Magson
up to the top, where he floated about gently, bobbing his head against
the glass after the manner of a gas balloon.

“How dare you take such a liberty!” he cried, angrily.

“You asked for proof, and you’ve got it!” replied Ross, now on the
outer deck, where Gilbert and Dennis joined him.

“I will have your vessel destroyed!” Magson shouted, shaking his fist
towards them in a fury, which exertion brought his back up to the roof
and he narrowly escaped turning upside down. With a struggle, he got
the right way up again, and the effort to keep so absorbed most of his
attention.

“You must see, Solomon Magson,” said Ross, “that if everything and
every living soul approached the ship, one and all could be made so
light as they came within its zone, that they would float off into
space or, if we reversed the current, so heavy that they would be
disintegrated or de-atomised into powder with the shock, and sink
through the ground. We don’t do that to you as it would kill you,
whereas we only wish to give you the positive proof you ask for, and if
we made you lighter still and opened the roof, you would continue to
rise until we had sent you out of the earth’s atmosphere, long before
which you would be asphyxiated, as you are aware.”

“Let me down, instantly!” he bellowed.

“And as it is,” continued Ross, ignoring the interruption, “we have
merely altered your specific gravity by scientific means and unless
we restored it you would remain that distance from the ground all
your life; even when you were dead and your body became less buoyant,
you would have to be buried on the top of a monument, or it would be
difficult to keep you down.”

“I insist on coming down!”

“You do not understand me. I was trying to prove that you cannot insist
on anything.”

“But I will come down!”

“You still fail to grip the point of the argument,” said Ross,
imperturbably; “you cannot insist, you have no will, you are powerless.”

For some minutes there was no sound save the slight tapping of Magson’s
head against the roof, as he bobbed up and down and felt his way all
round the shed, floating like a swan. Ross was quite unmoved, and his
two friends were enjoying the situation too much to make any remark,
and wondered what Ross would do next, for he was not the man to submit
to insolence. However, after waiting a few minutes he descended the
ladder and resumed his interrupted work, Dennis and Gilbert doing the
same, all apparently unconscious of their floating audience of one, who
was obtaining a splendid bird’s-eye view of everything.

“Please let me down!” at length came a submissive voice from above.

“That’s decidedly better!” commented Ross, stopping work and looking
upward; “and you are quite convinced that the _Regina_ has some
semblance of power, and that notwithstanding your dictum?”

“Perfectly!”

Ross did not reply, but went inside and a few moments later, Solomon
Magson was standing beside them, a milder and wiser man, and by
tacit consent the escapade was not alluded to, but a very different
representative of the government was now present; the new Solomon
Magson paid the three owners considerable deferential respect.

“What do you intend doing?” he began; “you surely will not let such a
beautiful vessel be unused.”

“By no means,” replied Gilbert, “we have already arranged a voyage
aloft.”

“You will give the results to science, of course?”

“That is our intention,” replied Gilbert.

“Have you decided on your destination?” asked Magson.

“We thought that after being unused for so long, it would be best
to take only a short voyage this time,” replied Dennis, “so we have
decided to go to Bona.”

“Would it be too much for me to ask permission to be one of the party?”
inquired Magson, eagerly.

“I fear it would not be possible,” said Dennis. “We shall make a few
trials in the earth’s atmosphere, but that will necessarily limit
the speed, or we should suffer from the heat of friction, but in the
journey beyond there might be danger. We cannot be sure that everything
will be in working order for rapid transit outside the atmosphere, so
we three are taking our lives in our hands and risking it, but we dare
not endanger others.”

“I will gladly take my chance with you,” said the former sceptic, all
his resentment gone and now as enthusiastic as they.

“We dare not,” answered Dennis.

“Three are few to negotiate a vessel of this size; I should be useful,”
he persisted.

“I am very sorry, but it would not be possible,” replied Dennis.

Magson was deeply disappointed but accepted the decision and continued,—

“When you start you will make it known, I suppose, as many people will
follow your course with glasses.”

“And many will say we have not been, but have merely hidden ourselves,”
laughed Ross, scornfully, instantly regretting having put it that
way, fearing Magson might perhaps take the remark as personal; but
the latter responded, “No doubt of that. It would be better if you
could state your course first and then by adhering to it, you would
substantiate your statements.”

“We shall do that, certainly,” assented Dennis; and after a little more
conversation Magson left, feeling that his visit had not been entirely
unprofitable in that he had added to his circle of friends and also
considerably reduced the swelling in his head.

The three friends discussed the projected journey at great length,
referring to the papers in the _Regina’s_ safe in order to compare the
arrangements made and the stores required on the previous expeditions,
but these did not help them very materially, for since that time many
of the things taken had become obsolete, and many improvements had been
made for curtailing labour.

The engines having been built for petroleum would answer for the newer
‘breezol,’ which is made from waste products and has an enormous
explosive force, with the advantage of being non-explosive and
non-inflammable under the ordinary conditions of storage. The older
compressed petroleum was taken away and cubes of ‘breezol’ substituted;
these cubes were very small, each representing one gallon, which was
equal to twelve or fourteen gallons of petroleum, and sufficient cubes
were stored to give ten years’ continuous work on all the engines, even
with extravagant use.

In the cuisine of the vessel several alterations had to be made,
for cooking was now almost obsolete, so the ranges and other former
appliances and fittings were taken out to adapt the galley to the
present wants, the modern food requiring little or no preparation,
being composed almost entirely of the chemical constituents necessary
to maintain the body in full health and vigour. Few people, therefore,
need the same kind of food, each person’s formula being in the hands
of a medical man. The doctors are responsible to the public, each
practitioner having a limited number of patients in a certain district,
in which he must reside, each person paying him an annual fee regulated
by statute. For this the doctor has to examine the person at fixed
periods, and analyse his blood when necessary in order to supply the
lacking chemicals to re-establish his health. Both doctor and patient
have their obligations; if the patient becomes worse the case can, if
desirable, be reported to a referee who, if he finds the illness is
not running its course but has been aggravated by a wrong formula,
gives the patient an order to deduct a certain amount from the doctor’s
fee. On the other hand, if the patient is at fault, by neglecting
his doctor’s orders, or by such actions on his part as tend to bring
on avoidable illness, or reduce his mental or physical strength, or
minimise his chances of recovery, or in any way make him an unhealthy
citizen, he is fined and put upon a rigid course of living till he
recovers, during which he has to pay his doctor an extra heavy fee. By
these means doctors understand their patients, who work so well with
them as a rule that serious illness is now unknown, for toxins are met
with antitoxins, and chemistry has become such a fine art that at the
first sign of failing health chemicals can be given to counteract the
illness and restore the normal conditions, and doctors can cure almost
everything short of actual dissolution.

These chemicals are given in the place of food, in the form of wafers
or flexible capsules which are easily swallowed, or if actual meals are
wanted, these are supplied chiefly in various kinds of chemical eggs,
meat, fruit, vegetables, etc., all in air-tight capsules which are only
broken just before use.

All goods formerly of linen, being now made of wood pulp, very soft yet
exceedingly strong, and white, and capable of great compression, are
burnt when soiled, and three or four changes of this highly antiseptic
clothing can be carried in a small, thin, very light box in the vest
pocket. Each member of the expedition, therefore, carried his own food,
toilet and wardrobe about with him, all suited to his own particular
taste and requirements. Consequently, after getting their formulæ
corrected, our travellers-to-be laid in a store of such things as
they needed, which left much unoccupied space in the vessel. They did
not require a crew, as the vessel was now capable of being controlled
by one person if necessary, and their united knowledge was such as
to enable them to keep everything in excellent order with little
expenditure of time and labour.

In this instance it was fortunate for science that none of the three
was married, or unforeseen difficulties would have arisen, for it is
doubtful if their wives would have consented to their hubbies jaunting
off to other worlds, and it is equally doubtful if they would have
accompanied their partners, in which case this story would never
have been written. Women are not the meek, down-trodden creatures
historians would have us believe they had been some decades back. Long
ago they had risen as one woman in revolt at their so-called slavery
and subjection to man. Demanding and obtaining an active part in the
government of the country they had, to some extent, lost much of that
womanliness and feminine lovableness which had formerly been considered
amongst the chief attributes and attractions of the sex.

They had also so strongly resented the relinquishing of their own names
for that of the men they married that few of them could be persuaded
to marry at all. The men, however, insisted, and sought help from the
state, and it was made an indictable offence for a woman to refuse to
marry the man she loved if he offered her marriage. Even that did not
answer, and the whole world was agitated; men became frantic whilst
women stood by, pensive, longing, loving and lovable, but resolutely
refusing to hear the voice of the charmer, charmed he never so wisely.
Finally, the difficulty was to a certain extent overcome by the men
owning that for the woman to sink her name in that of a husband on
marriage really _did_ show a marked inferiority to him and was a gross
libel on the universal belief that she was in every way the ‘better
half.’ From this time matters improved, and on the passing of a special
law entitling wives to retain their maiden names, a few of them here
and there were induced to marry, mostly against their will, when a
fresh difficulty arose which stopped all further marriages. The wives
declared they were the better halves, and that married couples should
be named “wife and husband”; their partners as firmly contending that
as they were by nature constituted bread-winners the expression should
be “husband and wife.”

It often happens that when disputants are right, yet both at opposites,
and neither will give way, the only bridge is a compromise; so in
this case the difficulty was bridged by the husband saying “husband
and wife,” whilst the wife referred to a married couple as “wife and
husband.”

This important matter settled, all went amicably, and the terms “Mrs.”
and “Mr.” were dealt with in the same manner, though these have
now fallen almost into disuse, whilst the mention of man—as a mere
man—being the “lord and master of creation,” was attended with so much
angry discussion as to have sunk into oblivion long ago. Formerly
also, for ages, every newspaper and book was filled with stories of
how poor, deluded, unwilling and powerless men were dragged by women
to the altar, but for some time past the true statement of things has
prevailed—as truth always will prevail eventually—and instead, it is
painfully evident every day how deceitful men are, and how they get
women so into their toils as to marry the men out of sheer goodness of
heart, merely to put an end to their manly importunities.

As our three heroes were ignorant of the joys of running in double
harness, they were reckless of their lives, no one would have them,
so what happened affected no one; they did not shrink, therefore,
from risking themselves in the _Regina_, which had already absorbed
all their affections. So one night, without any public warning, they
entered the shed, fastened the door and slid aside the roof; boarding
the vessel, they made all secure, and amidst great excitement, the
switch was moved and in uncanny obedience the vessel slowly rose.

Several airships had for some days been hovering over the shed in the
hope of finding out how the vessel was manipulated, and now, as she
rose silently and steadily like some majestic thing of life, these
watching craft drew nearer, telepathing the news that the _Regina_
had at last risen as though from the dead. Quickly others approached,
but nothing was to be seen on the outside save her well-known form,
her silver-like plates glistening in the moonlight. Higher and higher
she rose, the other vessels also rising till they reached their limit
and the air became so rarefied that their vanes could no longer meet
the proper resistance. Then a strange thing happened, about which
all the people had heard and read, but which needed to be seen to
be appreciated fully; the great ship remained quite stationary,
uninfluenced by gravity. Then she came a little lower and stopped;
then again lower, as the owners were testing her condition.

All the ships around were kept in position only by the full power of
their motors, many slowly sinking, unable to sustain the high altitude;
yet here was the _Regina_ actually repeating before their very eyes
what had made her famous in history; actually playing with gravity,
silent as a bird on its nest.

Throughout all creation there seems to be instilled a dread of that
which is not understood; and this awful stillness in mid-air quickly
spread a great fear and dread amongst the craft around, and the
watchers became first nervous, then alarmed and finally in a panic,
when their motors suddenly stopped and the ships slowly sank, gradually
becoming heavier till they nearly reached the earth, when each occupant
received this message, telepathed from the _Regina_: “We are proving
to you that the _Regina_ can overcome gravity, and we could force you
disintegrated through the earth to your destruction. In one minute from
now, your weight will be made normal, so prepare your vanes and motors
for the plane you are now in, lest your machinery break and you shoot
upward to the plane you left on the release of pressure.”

True to promise the ships found themselves released, and most of them
sailed away to what they considered a safe distance, but they were
brought back by the _Regina_, then let go again, as her repulsive
forces were reversed and became attractive.

Then the _Regina_ put on her whole six search-lights, almost blinding
every one by the sudden glare, and soared upwards, shedding long
trails of light like a meteor; smaller and smaller she grew, then
vanished. Then again the light was seen in the distance and then
darkness; and again the vessel was seen travelling outside the earth’s
atmosphere like a falling star and was gone; round she came again and
then encircled the earth within the atmosphere, then traversed the
length and breadth of England, finally hovering over Derwent for a
few moments, lighting up the whole city with a blinding glare, and,
with her lights still on, she slowly settled into her shed. For a few
minutes the brilliant lights shot upward for miles into the sky through
the top of the building, when the roof slid over and all was hidden
from view.

Ten minutes later the three occupants came out of the shed to be
received by crowds of curious folk who, late as it was, had been drawn
to the spot and who asked all manner of questions, and as they looked
upward they saw fast-racing airships gathering from all quarters of the
sky, their lights forming a miniature milky-way.

This flight had been anticipated by the government, who had whetted
everybody’s curiosity, for with commendable business despatch, the
instant the news of the discovery became known, the whole history
of the _Regina_ was set up in type and printed in pamphlet form,
the brochures being on sale within twenty-four hours, and enormous
quantities were disposed of by the government booksellers, the later
ones containing Solomon Magson’s official report, which was so
eulogistic that people purchased fresh copies and the printers could
scarcely keep up with the demand.

Even before the flight, almost every child in the street knew the
story, yet to find the vessel had actually departed and was already in
space, kept people up to watch and roused those already sleeping to
excited wakefulness, for every one wanted to see the actual exploiting
of the wonder of ages.

Almost overcome by their experiences, the three men of the hour made
their way with difficulty through the throng to their home, giving
instructions that none were to be admitted, for though no one could
enter the grounds by the gates, many airships had deposited their
occupants inside and all wanted to have a few words, but once in the
shelter of the house, the three were safe from the crowd of inquirers.

“My dear friends,” exclaimed Dennis, with much feeling, “what a lucky
day it was when we entered on this business!” and he could say no more.

“What an awful power there is in that ship! It is overwhelming to think
of!” said Gilbert, fervently. “And how awe-inspiring to travel outside
this blessed earth and air, where angels are supposed to dwell. Oh!
Dennis, it is good to live and I thank you from my very soul!”

“And I, too, Dennis!” concurred Ross. “I thought I should have died
with awe or fear or joy—I don’t know which it was—to see our own old
earth revolving, and the atmosphere throbbing and moving like a sea. I
can never be sufficiently thankful!”

“Nor I!” agreed Dennis. “It has been the dream of my life! and to think
that generations should have been passed over and that _I_ should be
the one to see the long-lost secrets laid bare. We have a good deal to
be thankful for, our present sanity even, and we ought to thank Him who
made us and all creation, for giving us the privilege of seeing outside
this wonderful world and bringing us home again in safety with our
reason unimpaired, for this last is perhaps the greatest blessing of
all!”

“I feel as if I had been dreaming!” exclaimed Ross; “it is difficult
to realise that the _Regina_ has really taken us so far; it is not yet
morning. How beautifully she acts! a child could work her, once the
force and switches are understood, thanks to your revered ancestor—may
his bones rest in peace—for writing all down so clearly.”

“Yes,” agreed Gilbert, “now we have got it at our fingers’ ends we can
keep the description in the safe where it was, for we could manipulate
her blindfold. It was a capital idea of yours, Dennis, for us to take
turns at everything, because we are able to fit in anywhere in an
emergency and relieve each other.”

“It is much the best, I think,” assented Dennis, “for as our interests
are now one, we are bound, in justice to ourselves and each other,
and in view of our united safety, to be able each to manage the whole
business right through.”

“We must have gone through the atmosphere at a great speed,” said
Gilbert. “I tested the casing and it was not even warmed, so we are
fairly heat-proof. We will have the ship stored with food for a long
time and then sail off to Bona. Shall we risk ourselves straight there,
or have a few shorter flights first in order to get our heads a little?”

“I should say, go straight away,” said Ross, eagerly. “I think we can
work her in perfect safety and she is as good and manageable a ship as
could be.”

“I think so, too,” agreed Dennis, “and we are all almost childishly
anxious to go off again.”

“I am, anyway!” said Ross, laughing, “so we’ll turn in and sleep the
sleep of the just, if not too tired and excited, and begin preparation
to-morrow.”

With that they all retired to rest; but the experiences of the evening
had been too sensational for quiet slumber, and the following morning
each had to confess to having had but fitful sleep.

The arrangements went on apace, and a few days later, the stores being
packed safely, all was ready for the flight to beautiful and beneficent
Bona.

“I think it would be a good plan to use ether-wave every day, say
at six o’clock p.m., and let all our messages be sent to every
wave-apparatus on the whole earth,” said Dennis, when discussing final
arrangements.

“But we shall have them all sending to us, and that would be a
nuisance,” objected Ross.

“That won’t do!” replied Dennis. “We can have a set earth-time for
general news, and the instruments so arranged that only Greenwich and
the chief government newspaper can communicate with the ship, between
which and these two points there should be facilities for news at any
time if necessary. The _Times_ would therefore be able to publish such
of the special information as they and Greenwich might consider of
interest to the general public.”

This being arranged, a special photograph was taken of Bona in order
that the adventurers could decide as to which portion of the planet
they should alight upon, so that their progress could be watched
from earth. After much consideration it was decided to aim straight
for the valley called the “Kidney,” because of its shape. This was
unmistakable, and according to careful calculation, the airship should
be visible in London till some time after they had landed on Bona, for
they would go straight, uninfluenced by the earth’s rotation, and thus,
providing glasses could distinguish what would in comparison be a speck
on Bona’s disc, her flight and settling might be seen by almost every
one in England.

It was decided that plenty of notice should be given, so that those
who wished to note the flight should have opportunity for preparation,
and the 13th of June, fourteen days later, was fixed for the journey,
particulars being at once sent all over the world by the ship’s
wave-apparatus, the code used being that issued by the government for
universal use.

By the 10th of June, air-craft began to assemble from all parts, and
large as Derwent was, the whole resources of the city were taxed to the
utmost to provide for the visitors.

Most of the modern ships are, of course, adapted for remaining in
the air at various altitudes if anchored, their vanes revolving at
sufficient speed to keep them fairly stationary. The anchors are of
various forms, the more usual being attached to a flexible steel cord,
giving a fine line of enormous strength; the anchors being small
tubes which give out their air on contact, thus instantly creating a
perfect vacuum; atmospheric pressure on the outside of the tube and an
automatic grip inside, pin the tube with very great force to the ground
or any other object on which it falls, more than sufficient to restrain
any airship from straying; a light current transmitted on the wire
moves a slide, allows air to enter the tube, and instantly the whole is
released without injury to the object on which it has been allowed to
fall.

On the 12th of June, so many ships had arrived in Derwent that the
business of the city was seriously incommoded; there was scarcely a
free stratum of sky-space left for traffic, the sky was so wedged with
ships of all forms and sizes that the city beneath was completely
darkened, and scores of anchor-lines were constantly snapping by the
moving ships below cutting them, and there was heard on all sides the
twang of breaking wires, some emitting deep, sonorous tones, whilst
others gave out a shrill scream. Often would come fresh arrivals on one
of the higher planes, and on all sides the little suction-tubes were
sinking, to be pushed aside by the vigilant owners of other ships, when
they would sink still lower, perhaps to settle on another vessel, when
the tube would be immovable. If not noticed in time and the line cut,
a second later it would be drawn taut and the double strain would snap
the line of the lower ship, when both vessels would be set adrift. It
was important that some one should be momentarily alert, for tubes were
constantly descending and tubeless lines hauled up to be refitted, any
one of which might injure another craft.

Below the effect was even worse, for the taut wires rose from the
ground every few feet, and in the vicinity of the shed passage between
them was impossible. Hundreds of the aëronauts descended to sleep in
the houses in Derwent and found it impossible to return to their
ships, then too closely packed to descend, and hundreds wished to come
down but were unable to do so and had perforce to stay aloft.

On the morning of the 13th, all traffic in Derwent was stopped, the
lines forming such a network in the streets that passage between them
was actually dangerous, for many of the owners, in order to protect
themselves and their craft from being cast adrift, or providing
anchorage for some other vessel, had placed their lines and steel decks
in electric circuit of sufficient strength to fuse any other line
or tube touching them; and if any person below touched such a line,
certain electrocution followed, and their removal from it was equally
dangerous to those who went to their assistance, so the authorities
‘waved’ to the shed, asking for the _Regina_ to be cast off, the three
friends having taken the precaution of removing there a few days
before, which was a piece of admirable forethought, or the _Regina_
could not have sailed to time, for all approach to the shed had by then
been cut off for twelve hours or more.

It was just before dawn on the 13th, when the message arrived and a few
minutes later the first ‘wave’ was emitted from the _Regina_, telling
all the people that the ship would sail five minutes later. Instantly
all anchors were released and there commenced such a crush in the air
as had never been seen before and, for humanitarian reasons, it is to
be hoped will never be seen again. All rules of right of way, passing,
and air-plane laws went by the board; some powerfully electrified
vessels fused all others that touched them, throwing the weaker
vessels out of action and precipitating them on the vessels below,
which in turn were rendered impotent by the crushing weight and broken
gearing, or by being thrown in sudden contact with others by the shock.
Fortunately only two lives were lost in this dreadful crush, but the
damage was terrible; all but the most powerfully electrified vessels
were scraped clean and smooth as unpainted ships.

In four minutes came a message to clear all space above the shed; but
so tight was the pack that none could get away laterally, and many of
the ships over the shed were already at the highest altitudes to which
their engines had power to lift them, so that they were unable to go
over the others, and the lower ones, though capable of doing so were
equally unable to pass above those wedged higher; but they were soon
to see a demonstration of the _Regina’s_ power which made the aërial
navigators blanch with fear, seasoned to danger as they were.

Punctually to time the roof of the shed slid back, and in the dim
twilight there streamed aloft a blinding light.

In these days of high-voltage electricity, brilliant lights are common
enough, but no one in that vast throng had ever seen so powerful a
glare as that which belched upwards from the shed. It lit up the keels
of the lower vessels, sending their shadows, black as pitch, for miles
into the sky, as it penetrated the higher planes where an opening
permitted, blinding everybody with its awful glare. Nothing could be
seen as yet of the source of light, which was below, and this gave the
shed the semblance of being the opening to the bottomless pit, or as
if a damper had been drawn from the flue of some awful subterranean
furnace.

For a great height above the shed there lay a solid mass of airships in
a closely wedged belt. Over this living, throbbing pack, spotted with
innumerable lights like diamonds, the stars were paling for the dawn
and a faint streak of light showed itself on the eastern horizon. Below
the stratum of ships lay the country, fields and trees made blacker by
the throng of vessels above. Blackest of all was the enormous shed, the
steel-covered walls of which rose up sheer and menacing to a great
height, but now this dark and forbidding-looking building was rendered
doubly black by the awful glare pouring out of its roof.

The message to clear the way not being complied with, the people held
their breath and clutched tightly at one another, or the first thing
which gave them substantial grip, for all the ships’ motors stopped
as though magnetised, whilst the vessels remained perfectly poised
and steady, in their exact positions of the moment. Scarcely had this
been realised when it was seen that all the ships over the shed were
rising bodily, without their relative positions changing by so much as
a hair’s-breadth; becoming lighter and still lighter they rose still
higher as from a well, leaving all those outside them in a solid wall
like a shaft.

Several tried to sail out and rise in the shaft to a higher plane, but
their ships were still immovable, their engines and motors unable to
make a single revolution. Those who were sufficiently near to look up
the shaft could see the vessels rise and then float aside over those of
the highest plane, leaving the shaft clear to the sky.

The fact that the _Regina_ had not yet appeared made this demonstration
of her power all the more eerie, for all felt that some awful
influence, more mysterious because unseen, was using the natural force
of gravity with wonderful and irresistible strength in some simple yet
secret manner, and the steady and certain way in which the forces of
nature were used made thousands of the watchers nearly frantic to find
out by what means it was done.

The course clear, very slowly the glittering vessel rose above the
roof of the shed, as steadily as if on wires, and when just above the
building, the roof slid back automatically; up the shaft of ships the
_Regina_ rose, sending out a light so blinding that all the people were
dazzled by it, yet they could see that she had no machinery outside,
and save for a dome and an outer deck round it, her sides were smooth
and free from anything which could hinder her swift passage through the
air.

Not a sound was heard from the vessel, not a tremor disturbed her
poise, as she rose gently and regally like the Queen she was. When at
the top of the shaft she paused, and in forced obedience to her silent
will, the vessels that had previously occupied the shaft re-entered
it and took up their former position exactly, their previous gravity
being restored. The instant the last vessel had floated into place, all
the ships were relieved of that mysterious tension that had stopped
all movement, and there was heard the din of the screams of hundreds
of motors, as the vessels started from where their movements had been
arrested. As those on the upper planes rose and separated to follow the
_Regina_ the lower ones were set free, and sailed out of the dangerous
crush. A few minutes later the _Regina_ was surrounded by scores of
inspecting ships, and as her lights were now out, her beautiful lines
were the admiration of all. Still she stood, motionless as a dead body,
so still and stately, with not a throb or tremor on her gigantic form,
that the people became awed by the uncanny silence and the strange,
mysterious power of gravity-control which she used so perfectly.

So she stood, silent and dignified, her sides dazzlingly white in the
paling twilight. Suddenly, the sun, which had not yet risen to those
on the ground below, came into view at that high altitude, and a ray
of sunlight caught the _Regina’s_ dome, and that same instant, as
though it were the good-bye kiss from earth she had been waiting for,
and was now satisfied, she rose; so slowly that she had gone above
them before those around noticed it. Higher and higher she went, the
ships gradually falling back as their utmost altitudes were reached,
till at last only one remained and watched the _Regina_ mount higher
and still higher till she became a mere speck, then was lost to view
in the rapidly brightening sky, and the solitary attendant commenced
its descent. At that moment a sheet of paper fluttered down from the
_Regina_ close to the ship and there remained perfectly still, gently
floating on the air as on water. Securing it they read,—“Good-bye!
good luck. Keep an eye on us if possible. This is a souvenir of the
_Regina_; may you be able to keep it!”

Of course they could keep it! what an absurd thing to write about!
and it was handed round as they descended, but just as the owner was
passing it to his wife it slipped out of his hand and went fluttering
upwards, then suddenly stopped and remained floating, as before.
Elevating the vessel again they took it in and descended, and again
it floated back the instant the close grip on it was relaxed. Again
they secured it and this time took it into the cabin to examine more
closely, but it flew up to the ceiling and getting in the current of
air there, was wafted out of the window and they saw it float up to its
former position. This was most annoying, and the owner was not going
to trouble further when his wife, recalling the chief secret of the
_Regina_, suggested that the gravity of the paper had been altered to
coincide with the particular pressure of the atmosphere at which it
was found. This being the case, and his being the highest ship afloat,
it was no longer a mere slip of paper, but a precious souvenir. He
therefore rose, and just when he could rise no more he saw the paper a
few yards away, floating as before. This time he placed it under glass,
which he screwed to his table and, descending, proudly exhibited it to
his friends.

In the meantime, the _Regina_, once away from her audience, increased
speed rapidly, and in a few minutes was outside the earth’s atmosphere,
when she shot forward straight at Bona, watched by thousands of eyes;
and through the most powerful telescopes she was seen to settle down as
a tiny spot of light, like a mote in sunbeam, in the very centre of the
still-luminous Bona, in the ‘heart’ of the “Kidney.”




                               CHAPTER IV

                            _MUSCÆ VOMITORIÆ_


  “I saw three insects alight ... and after careful consideration
  I classed them as _Musca Vomitoria_ (blue-bottle flies) ... of
  exceptional size.”—_Insect Life._

“How is the air, Gilbert?” inquired Dennis, as Gilbert emerged from the
laboratory where he had been testing a collected sample.

“Excellent,” he replied; “about the same as ours but a little drier,
though not much; it will suit us admirably.”

“What about the gravity?” observed Ross, at the same time walking
across to the gravitometer. “I see it is almost the same as Earth
has now and exactly what she used to have. It measures a speed of
thirty-two feet per second of a falling substance for each second of
motion.”

“That makes a unit force of half an ounce, then,” remarked Dennis.

“Roughly, yes,” replied Gilbert, “about one-thirty-secondth of a pound,
so it will be rather better for us than Earth.”

“Then it is no use waiting any longer, we might as well land,” said
Dennis.

“Right you are!” exclaimed Gilbert, at the same time moving the
ventilator-switch and closing the artificial air apparatus. “We may
as well save our breath,” he observed. “What about our meeting any
possible people?”

“We had better be fully armed,” counselled Dennis; “and then we’ll
explore.”

Accordingly, they each armed themselves with a brace of noiseless
revolvers, containing fifty needle-like capsule-shots apiece, fired by
compressed air; on striking, they flatten against the body and burst,
emitting a powerful corrosive acid which instantly bites through every
known substance to the skin, in which it at once becomes absorbed, and
in the same second the whole of the blood is solidified. No cure or
antidote has been found, and so certain is it in effect that death is
inevitable.

Having made the vessel immovable and secure, they stood at the foot of
the ladder wondering which way to go. They were in a great clearing,
carpeted with beautiful green grass as even and close as if freshly
mown. On this grass were clusters of shrubs bearing reddish leaves and
brilliant yellow blossoms, the whole forming a perfect, harmonious
scheme of colour. Encircling this was a dense wood, and the visitors
could not help noticing the strange fact that though the grass was as
brilliantly green as any on Earth in spring, all other vegetation, such
as trees and shrubs, was a russet-brown, here and there tinged with
red, like the colours on Earth in autumn. Their attention was also
forcibly drawn to the grass, which on Earth grows thin and sparsely
under trees and in all places where light cannot reach it, but here
was, in such situations, as thick and velvety and as luscious as in the
open, proving that this vegetation was not so dependent on light as
that on Earth. Almost immediately they had stepped on the thick, mossy
turf they felt all their doubts needless, and there came over them a
feeling of serenity and confidence that altogether disarmed suspicion
of evil.

Passing along this velvety carpet, they approached the bordering
wood and entered its delightful shade. Here were thousands of flowers
which on Earth bloom only in certain seasons, all growing together—the
primrose, violet, daffodil, rose, chrysanthemum fuchsia, snowdrop, and
countless others in splendid profusion, giving the air a ravishing
perfume. A few yards further on was a long, untrimmed hedge of
sweetbriar, and as the breeze bore its exquisite fragrance towards
them, they could not withstand the desire to sit under its pleasant
shade, quietly to enjoy the beauty of their surroundings.

From the elevation of their approach in the ship, this Bonian “Kidney”
had seemed to them an ideal place; the country waved in undulating
stretches of land and water—here a sea, there a lake, and running
between and beyond were many silver streaks of river, narrowing and
fading into seeming strands of silver wire. As they lay beside the
deliciously scented hedge, they saw beyond them a long level stretch of
grass like a well-kept lawn, ending in a glimpse of blue sea.

“Let us go to the shore,” suggested Dennis; and looking round,
continued,—“isn’t this a glorious country! I feel the mild air
invigorating me so much that I glory in being alive!”

“I never dreamed of anything so delightful!” exclaimed Ross, drawing in
a full breath of the sweet air, almost chewing it in his enjoyment.

“Come along then!” cried Gilbert. “I feel like a boy again, and I’m
going to have a swim in that sea, if I get sharked!”

Across the moorland they went, and soon came to a cliff of earth down
which they scrambled to the beach—a stretch of beautiful sands. Some
two miles distant there jutted into the sea a long, flat rock with
deep water around it; Ross pointed this out and suggested bathing from
there, so in order to get a better view they reclimbed the cliff and
walked along the edge of it to the spot indicated. The walking here
was as easy and soft as on the richest carpet; the grass was thick and
mossy, and below this were several inches of peat. The cliffs were
most peculiar in shape, some sharp at the top like a long knife-edge,
others pointed like needles, and all of a soft, red sandstone. Very
soon they came to the outer edge of this promontory, which divided two
bays and ran into the sea like a long and attenuated letter V, and they
stood lost in delighted wonderment, for the coast beyond was opened
out before them in a mighty sweep; in and out the line went, bordered
with an edging of sand and rocks and seaweed and splashing, sparkling
foam from the broken waves, as if a long piece of diamond-trimmed lace
had been laid open to view. Below them, the sea had hollowed out great
basins in the rocks, forming gigantic pools of immense depth, and rocks
innumerable were scattered about, giving plain evidence of the power of
the Bonian sea. These rocks were spread open and piled upon each other,
their peculiar square shapes resembling enormous toy bricks.

Full of the vigour of life and joyously exhilarated with the beauty of
the scene, the explorers raced down the cliff and bathed in one of the
pools, to their great enjoyment. After running about in the sun till
dry, they dressed and retraced their steps, but had not proceeded far
before they began to feel very uncomfortable. The sea-water had been
somewhat sticky, and though they were quite dry before they dressed,
their skin and clothing were now united, and their hair also was matted
into one solid piece like a shell, all shrinking in the sunshine to
a painful extent. Their clothing not being quite so elastic as their
skin, considerably impeded their progress, so much so as soon to stop
it altogether, and at last they could walk no more but had to tumble
down as gently as their stiffened limbs would permit.

“Now we’re in for it!” groaned Dennis.

“It’s glorious!” said Ross, ruefully. “I feel like a capsuled herring!
And here we shall be, in full view of Earth telescopes!”

“I never thought of that!” exclaimed Gilbert, trying to laugh, but his
stiffened face refused to bend into a smile, and the laugh turned into
a kind of choke. “But I doubt if they will be able to pick us out,
though if they can, we shall have been giving them an entertainment to
some tune!”

“I am afraid we shall have to roll down the cliff into the sea again
and stay there till this gummy stuff has softened,” said Dennis,
through his teeth, for it was next to impossible to move his lips
without cracking his skin.

“And if we do, we shall be in the same state again,” mumbled Ross,
with closed mouth. “Besides, how could we swim? We should just flop
over with a smack into the mouth of the first fish that chanced to be
waiting. Oh, my nose itches terribly! Could you reach it with your
elbow, or knee, or foot, or anything, Dennis? I positively can’t bend
my arm! My limbs are held as if in a vice.” And he rolled over like a
semi-animated mummy and rubbed his face in the grass, which made him
sneeze. “I believe that’s split my face off; I felt it crack! And my
nose is worse than ever. It’s awful!” he spluttered. “How is it that
when you can’t or daren’t scratch, some inaccessible place itches and
tickles till one gets frantic?”

“For the very same reason that if you forget your pocket-handkerchief,
you don’t need it till you recollect it isn’t there, and then you want
it urgently,” said Gilbert; and then suddenly,—“didn’t we pass a stream
in coming? I believe we are close by it; let us roll in and soak till
we get limp.”

With that the ‘expedition’ rolled over and over painfully for a hundred
yards or so, when they got to the bank, down which they tumbled into
the narrow and shallow stream which flowed from a spring a little
higher on the hill. Down they went, one after the other, all in line,
the head of one to the feet of the one higher, which was accomplished
with considerable pain and difficulty. Their bodies dammed up the
narrow stream, and in a short time the water was raised sufficiently
high to flow over them.

“We shall soon soften now,” observed Dennis, painfully trying to
brighten up the spirits of his companions.

“I hope we shall, for my only object in life just now is to kill a
beetle which is stuck on my eyebrow, and he won’t be worked off, the
brute!” exclaimed Ross, irritably. “I believe he is either plucking it
out or biting it off!”

“Keep calm, old man!” said Gilbert, soothingly, “it shows his
appreciation of you, and you ought to feel flattered—Great Bona! A gnat
or something is biting my nose, and I can’t wash him off!”

“Keep calm, old man!” repeated Ross, mockingly, “it shows his
appreciation!”

“That’s all very well, Ross, but——” and Gilbert broke off to laugh, or
rather, he attempted to do so.

With jest and banter they whiled away the time, but in the course of
about half an hour they were chilled to the bone, though they were limp
again. The first to get up was Dennis, the lowest, who, with stiffened
joints, painfully knelt, then turned round, saying, “How do you feel
now, both of—— Great Bona!” he suddenly ejaculated, at the same time
remaining with one knee in the water, as though turned to stone, his
eyes starting with astonishment, the while his two friends stared at
him in wild alarm. They did not remove their gaze from his face for an
instant, whilst he gazed at them as though bewitched. Still looking
at Dennis, Ross scrambled up and approached him, in doing which he
had to pass Gilbert, who was in the middle. In the act of passing, he
glanced at him, then stood still, staring first at him and then at
Dennis, as if transfixed, whilst Gilbert, at sight of him, was too
surprised to make any further effort to rise, but sat where he was in
the stream-bed, the water pouring past on each side of him.

“Am I mad, or are you?” blurted out Dennis. “I swear you are both as
blue as blue-bottle flies!”

“I?” queried each of the others, in one breath. “You two are!”

“Do you mean to say _I_ am the colour of you two?” exclaimed Ross, in
amazement.

“If _my_ face is as yours,” uttered Gilbert, despairingly, “I shall die
with grief!”

“Look at our hands and clothes!” exclaimed Ross, so ruefully that
Dennis burst into uncontrollable laughter, sitting back in the stream
without noticing it, his friends joining in the mirth till they could
laugh no more, and then they all stripped only to find they were dyed
from head to foot a brilliant and magnificent blue—hair, skin, nails,
as well as clothing.

“Well! this _is_ a glorious picnic!” laughed Dennis, boisterously.

“It’s all very well to laugh,” remonstrated Ross, himself at the same
time laughing heartily, “but the honour of Britain is at stake, and if
we meet any natives here, they’ll think us humans a bright lot with
this sample before them.”

“Oh, don’t! Ross,” pleaded Gilbert, holding his paining sides tightly.
“Don’t! don’t, I am sore. I can’t laugh any more, I really can’t!”

“Bright lot!” gasped Dennis, in jerks, for speech was painful with
excessive laughter; “we _are_ a bright lot, polished like mirrors. For
Bona’s sake tell me if my tears are blue, or if they’ve washed any blue
off my face! No? Then we are permanently and beautifully blue.” And
they had another fit of laughter.

“How are we to dry ourselves?” asked Gilbert; “by the time this
coating has dried we shall perhaps be stiff again.”

“Oh, don’t trouble, Gilbert, old man!” replied Dennis, airily. “We’ll
find another stream and soak ourselves red, or green, or something; one
or two colours more won’t matter much now!”

“I say, you fellows, be serious!” panted Ross. “Think a bit, if you
can! Don’t you see that this is beyond a joke? If we come across any
folk here, what _will_ they think of us?”

By dint of each insisting on the others taking it seriously they began
to talk the matter over, and could only conclude that one of the waters
must have contained some substance similar to potassium ferrocyanide,
but non-poisonous, and the other some ingredient like a ferric
chloride, and the long immersion had precipitated prussian blue—dyed
them blue. What the substance really was they could not tell, for
though they got samples of both waters later and analysed them, they
could find no chemicals with which they were acquainted, and none of
the reagents known on Earth revealed anything in either sample except
H_{2}O, leaving a considerable quantity of unknown substance—and always
each was harmless alone, yet when the two were mixed together, though
the water remained perfectly transparent, any substance of Earth placed
in the mixture became dyed a fast blue.

“Let us get back to the ship,” said Dennis; “it is only prussian blue,
and we can get it off in the lab.”

“And let us hope no natives will see us till we are ourselves again,”
rejoined Gilbert. “Ross is in a sweat about his complexion!”

Laughing gaily, they made tracks for the _Regina’s_ laboratory, where
their troubles would soon be at an end. After proceeding about half-way
to the vessel, they were both surprised and annoyed to see several
people step out of the wood and cross the open to meet them.

“Drat it all!” ejaculated Ross, exasperated. “Why couldn’t they have
waited a little till we had got this wretched stuff off.”

“‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’ as the old saying is,” said Dennis,
laughing, but feeling much embarrassed.

By this time the Bonians had met them, expressing no surprise at
sight of their visitors, whom they saluted by placing two fingers on
their foreheads. Then they talked fast and long in a language quite
unintelligible to the explorers, who themselves were not understood.

“Here’s a treat!” said Gilbert; “we know about a dozen languages
between us and not a word they can understand.” Then turning to the
natives, he pointed to where the Earth was and, utterly oblivious of
the fact that talking was no use, he continued, with pointings and
energetic gesticulations, “We have come from there,” pointing to Earth,
“in that ship,” pointing to it, “to see here,” pointing downwards and
embracing the whole country with a wave of his arm, and speaking very
loudly and distinctly.

Whether they thought he was mad or not is doubtful, but they drew apart
and talked together, looking in turn at the strangers and their ship.
At last one of them ran swiftly to the wood, the others still standing
silently apart, and Ross said, “Let us get into the ship and take this
stuff off, we can talk with these people after,” at the same time
stepping forward.

Immediately these innocent-looking people advanced to bar the way, and
held across the path one of some curious thin rods they carried and
which the visitors thought were wood, but which were really highly
magnetic steel, for instantly the three travellers became rigid, unable
to move a limb, and experiencing all the tingling sensation of a
galvanic shock.

For a few minutes they stood thus, with the rod before them held at
each end by one of the natives, when from amongst the trees came about
fifty others, all similarly armed. One, evidently the chief, stepped
out and signed for the rod to be removed, and with its removal, the
power of speech and motion returned to the visitors. Gilbert, who was
a little peppery, drew his revolver, more for show than anything,
but whether his expression gave him away, or they suspected danger,
movement was again made impossible by the holding before him of one of
the rods.

Again did the king, or leader, sign for the rod to be lowered, and
for the second time the strangers were free, and they were now more
cautious. It was, however, impossible to understand or be understood,
so Dennis tore a leaf out of his pocket-book, but as he could make no
visible impression on the deep blue paper by his equally blue pencil,
he pointed to the sky and drew lines on the ground to represent
the solar system, with leaves for the planets, which they at once
recognised. For as a great portion of the atmosphere is practically
devoid of particles by means of which sunlight could be reflected, the
stars and the solar system are distinctly visible in the broad daylight
on a dark sky—as is the case on Mars and on Luna. The Bonians instantly
corrected Dennis in the position of their planet, fixing the satellite
where she was at that particular moment, proving they were _au fait_ in
the science of astronomy. By this means they comprehended the situation
and immediately, by signs and tokens, showed their friendliness and
laid down their weapons.

The visitors also put down their arms, which excited much curiosity,
and Ross explained their action by shooting at a stone, but they were
primitive compared with the rods, which instantly stopped all movement
and rendered anything impotent; when necessary, these rods would fuse
stone and bring steel to a white heat; they were not used to take life,
for the Bonians never killed or tortured any living creature.

The three visitors had forgotten about their shining complexions,
until one of the natives pointed in comparison to his own white skin
and to the face of Ross. Poor Ross nearly died with mortification,
for he was fair and clear-skinned—that peculiar clearness which often
accompanies chestnut hair—and of all these things he was vain. It was
his only weakness, and to be suddenly recalled to fact by so personal
a reference humiliated him terribly. He tried to make them understand,
and in part succeeded by rousing their curiosity without convincing
them; so thinking he would be in good company, he, by signs, persuaded
several of them to bathe in the sea, which was not difficult, seeing
they were fond of it. Ross then managed to make them comprehend that
they had to dry in the sun, which they also did willingly enough,
little thinking of the surprise he had in store for them in the change
that was coming, for he determined they should repeat his experiences
and get blued, but he was a little disappointed to find their linen to
be still soft and not at all sticky, nor were the people stiffened in
their clothing as the visitors had been, and to the touch their hair
was still soft and loose. However, these matters were mere details and
Ross proceeded with his joke, grimly determined to blue his victims
as effectively as he and his friends were dyed. When they came to the
stream he tried to persuade them to lie still in it, in their clothing,
but they did not see this at all, and only the desire of the chief
personage to please the visitors caused them to comply with Ross’s
request, and there they stayed, minute after minute, in their clothing,
for about half an hour, at the end of which time their skins were
undyed and their linen was white as before.

At last they got up and squeezed the water out of their clothing,
feeling that it was a funny sort of joke, the point of which neither
they nor their companions could see—nor could the visitors, and poor
Ross, who had run the whole entertainment, both looked and felt
foolish and, if possible, bluer than ever, especially when the people
seemed to ask for an explanation of his joke and evidently considered
the strangers a true specimen of those living on Earth.

It was plain the Bonians were not of the same substance as Earthy folk,
and therefore only the laboratory could restore the Terrestrians to
their personal comfort and, in Ross’s case, good looks, for the other
two didn’t mind much, not having so much to lose. So off they started
straight for the ship, like three enormous blue-bottle flies walking
upright, sans wings, with a crowd of fair, English-flesh-coloured
people in their wake. Telling them by signs that they would soon come
out again the same colour as the natives, they rushed to the laboratory
and bathed themselves first in one thing and then another, but nothing
would make the slightest impression on their blueness. They were
well and truly dyed and polished with a very fast colour, and at the
end of their exertions, with blistered, sore and cracking skin, they
had to face the fact as it stood, and trust to time to bring them to
their normal condition. Meanwhile the Bonians were free to consider
all people on Earth like the sample submitted, which was felt to be a
severe blow to England’s pride and glory as represented by the three
explorers, and to Ross in particular, for apparently never more would
his clear skin and chestnut hair be admired by any one unless they were
predisposed to take the blues.

“We’ve got to stay here till we pale again, that’s clear!” declared he,
emphatically. “I shall never go back to England this colour, if I never
go at all!”

“And I have no ambition to be one of the first blue men on the face of
the Earth!” agreed Gilbert, ruefully.

“We’ll see!” said Dennis, cheerily. “It may wear off in a day or two.”

“That’s all right; the people here think we are naturally blue, and we
cannot undeceive them, worse luck! But I am certainly not going to give
any others a sight of myself just yet!” retorted Ross, saying which he
set about preparing their simple meal, it being his turn.

“We have not attempted to telepath with these people,” remarked Dennis,
after their meal. “Thought is universal and knows no language, and
we might be able to exchange ideas that way as conversation is not
possible.”

“Certainly!” replied Gilbert. “We can try it anyway, and if successful
they may perhaps tell us how we can get rid of this dreadful metallic
blueness, and ease Ross’s mind. I see they are waiting for us.”

The three then descended, and by telepathy they soon found a ready
means of communicating thought, and all difficulties were at an end.
Seeing their skins cracked and blistered, the Bonians gave them
some kind of ointment which, when applied, proved both soothing and
healing, and on hearing the story of their adventure at the spring,
were considerably astonished; as such a change of colour was unknown to
them, it could only come from a peculiarity in the Earthian skin and
clothing, which combined with the chemicals in the water to produce
dye, and after some little experimenting by the natives, a lotion was
made for their visitors which gradually dissolved the blue pigment on
the skin. In the course of two months desquamation commenced over the
whole surface of the body, and a week or so later, after the scales had
fallen, the travellers were flesh-coloured once more, for which they
were devoutly thankful.

In the meantime they had learned enough of the new language to make
themselves understood and to understand conversation, which, added to
telepathy, made them feel very much as if with friends, as they were.
They found the Bonians much more advanced in some things than the
people of Earth, whilst in others they were not so capable. They were
in constant communication with Venus, Mars, and all the planets of
the solar system except Earth, which alone seemed to be cut off from
telepathic influence. Messages could be sent by all to Earth, but they
were not understood, nor had any communication ever been received from
there by any of the planets. The Bonians were unable to say definitely
where the fault lay—whether the atmosphere surrounding Earth was not
favourable to telepathic messages from and to other worlds, or if the
perceptions of the Earthians were not sufficiently sensitive to other
influences; they thought the latter, and they were probably right, for
it transpired that at the first meeting by the spring, finding speech
impossible, they had earnestly telepathed, to no purpose, and though
but a few yards distant, the desire to use transmission of thought had
not suggested itself to the visitors till several hours had been spent
on the planet, whereas the desire should have been coincident with
their own; and while the natives telepathed easily, the three visitors
could only do so with difficulty though accustomed to it on their own
world, and when the people were not actually present, the Earthians
could not telepath to them or receive their messages, proving the
inferior mental perceptions of the Earth people.

It was most remarkable that no reply could come from Earth to
the Bonians, yet the three visitors could hold communication at
all times, and at the first thought it seemed to point to the
superiority of Earth, but not so when it was remembered that the
travellers were obliged to use special and elaborate ‘wave’ apparatus
in delicate sympathy with those on Earth, whereas the Bonians
and all other inhabitants of the solar system conversed by pure
telepathy—transmission of thought—alone, without instruments.

Dennis and his friends determined to put Bona in direct communication
with Earth by making another ‘wave’ apparatus like their own for
the natives, and after considerable time and trouble they succeeded
and, proud of their achievement, sent the first message from actual
Bonian soil. What was their astonishment, however, to find all their
work useless, for although the messages were really sent, Earth
did not receive any of them. They could ‘wave’ from the _Regina_,
but not from the planet; and after several weeks of most assiduous
experimenting, they were compelled to abandon the project and bow to
the inevitable—Earth and Earth alone was the one outcast in the system
over which old Sol ruled.

Disappointing as was the failure, it added considerably to the already
unique powers of the vessel, which, by some mysterious affinity in its
control of gravity, was alone enabled to hold communication with the
instruments on Earth, with which its own were in sympathy.

“Can you tell us, positively, what was the cause of your planet’s
coming into the Earth’s orbit?” asked Dennis, _àpropos_ of the subject
of gravitation which was under discussion.

“We do not know exactly,” was the reply; “according to the records we
were at one time beyond the star you call Neptune. We were even then
in the solar system as we are now, but had a double orbit, one round a
subsidiary sun as one of the members of a small solar family, and the
whole system of which we were a part revolved round our present sun,
but far outside the orbit of Neptune, and altogether invisible to your
Earth. The sun round which we revolved became cold, too cold to retain
its system, and we were more closely drawn into that of the greater
sun.”

“We on Earth know very little indeed of the limitless space beyond
Neptune,” said Ross; “our instruments reveal little to us beyond space
after space, and stars and more space _ad infinitum_.”

“It is, of course, the same with us now,” replied the Bonian, “but on
our former charts which you see here”—showing a collection—“you will
observe our original position, from which our present sun shows in the
photograph as an exceedingly fine spot—a star of the twenty-seventh
magnitude, as you would class them. Our world and its former sun
would then be quite invisible to you, as you say the limit of your
instruments is about the twenty-seventh magnitude. From the position
shown here we very slowly approached your orbit, for you will see from
these various photographs that Neptune was too far away to influence
us, as was Uranus, and we crossed the orbit of Saturn at this point,
when the planet was here”—showing the position on the map—“Jupiter was
far away here with Mars opposite—as you see—and as we were progressing
in this direction, you will notice by the position of your world in
this photograph that we were travelling straight for it, and the
voluminous records of the time state the terrible catastrophe that
seemed imminent. However, as opposing forces when equal repel one
another, we did not approach near enough to collide, and your somewhat
stronger gravity retained us, and we described a new orbit round
your Earth which does not seem to have affected our world in any way
beyond a slight alteration of the climate, to which the people became
accustomed along with the change, which was, of course, gradual.”

“We supposed some such cause must have effected the approach of your
world,” said Gilbert, “and many theories have been given by Earth
scientists, but we are indeed glad to have the matter placed beyond
doubt, strange as the explanation seems.”

The Bonians were so generous as to give the travellers copies of all
the photographs shown them, together with many celestial photographs
of the unthinkable space beyond Neptune, which were taken centuries
before, when the planet revolved in a different system; also a copy of
the ancient records. These constituted priceless gifts, and were of
inestimable benefit to the whole world of Earth, giving, as they did, a
verified account of the annexation by Earth of a moon.

They discovered that the Bonians were highly skilled in botany, and
that they were to a great extent responsible for much of the vegetation
on the planets belonging to the present solar system, as they had been
in the previous system, and therefore the friends aptly named them
the “spirits of vegetation.” On Bona were millions and millions of
varieties of trees, plants, flowers, herbage and grasses, which they
cultivated, sending the germs of their life on ether in the form of
microscopically fine dust, which travelled to certain of the planets
in such measure and variety as the individual worlds required, where
they fell more or less abundantly as the climatic conditions were
favourable, and it devolved on the Bonians to keep the worlds supplied;
otherwise, should the seeds fail to be propagated by birds, insects, or
by other plants, the variety would then die out. Here then would seem
to originate the first germs, or the early forms of vegetable life,
and by careful guarding and cross-fertilisation they obtained endless
varieties, some suited to extremes of heat and cold. During one of
the conversations, while the explorers were watching some luxuriant
blooms which would probably, they thought, become parasites on Earth,
perhaps some new order of orchid, the question was raised as to how
some similar plants would grow—as they eventually would—on warm lava,
and the natives told them that the plants were inoculated with a grub
of a certain bug which would withstand any heat, even fire. Gilbert
and Ross appeared a little incredulous, when Dennis observed,—“That
is not so very extraordinary, if you come to think it over, for many
parasitic forms of life in flesh-meat will withstand continued cooking
and then develop in the body of the eater, which is one of the reasons,
as you know, why our food is sterilised, compressed and enclosed in
hermetically sealed and germ-proof capsules. Microbes also may be
frozen in meat and remain inactive for years, yet be full of life and
grow on the meat being thawed.”

“Of course,” responded Gilbert; “now I come to think of it, Ross and
I bought a mummy to experiment with some years ago, and when we had
finished we set it on fire, and the gums and spices and seeds used in
embalming burned furiously. We then threw the ashes on the garden and a
dozen or more of the seeds took root and grew, although they were over
three thousand years old and had passed through fire, so burning does
not always destroy life.”

“No, it does not,” assented Ross, “for I myself obtained plants from
some seeds which I found embedded in lava, when I was unearthing some
buried ruins. I had forgotten it for the moment.” He then sank into
silence. Shortly Dennis asked him a question, but he was thinking so
deeply that he did not hear; instead of answering he turned to a native
and asked,—“Will this microbe, or grub, or whatever it is, stand actual
fire, like hot lava, or burning gums?”

“Certainly,” was the answer. “It is sent over to us from a certain
place in Jupiter. They cultivate it there and may give you some if you
wish it. I will inquire, but I must leave you to be alone;” saying
which he left them to transmit the message, returning shortly to say,
“I have a reply. If you go to Jupiter, and travel round the planet till
you find a large mountain with a crater like a flat cross, the people
will meet you there.”

“Could you not give us some of yours?” inquired Dennis, “and so prevent
the risk of our getting wrong?”

“No, you would have to get them from the animal direct and breed them
on your Earth to do any good. Ours are reared here, and would die if
they were taken away.”

All were considerably excited, and determined to take a few specimens
of this extraordinary creature back to Earth as a curiosity, but in
discussing the matter, a daring scheme occurred to them which this
bug might be the means of accomplishing. The Bonians advised them to
enlist the services of a clever microscopist and bacteriologist, in
order that they might deal with the creatures scientifically from the
outset. This, of course, necessitated a journey back to Earth, and as
they were now their normal selves there was no reason for delaying
their departure; they therefore decided to return home the following
week, which would make a three months’ stay on Bona, so this news was
‘waved’ to Earth, in accordance with the prearranged custom; for at the
close of each day they had carefully ‘waved’ their doings in detail—all
except the blueness and the object of their return; the former seemed
unnecessary, and it would be soon enough to publish the latter when the
bug was within their grasp.

“Now about the expert. Who will be best? Godfrey Spenser?” asked Ross,
in the midst of their preparations for departure.

“Most decidedly!” responded Dennis; “but we must look after him, as he
is a bit of a crank.”

“Very much so,” agreed Ross, laughing. “In his own line he is a genius,
but strange to say, he has a fixed idea that his special forte is in
electricity, about which he knows just enough to kill us all if we
don’t mind.”

“Oh, he’ll be all right on board,” declared Dennis. “Once get him on
the grub and microbe tack and he’ll forget to meddle.”

“We must hope so, anyway!” answered Ross.

“I only know him as a microscopist,” said Gilbert, smiling.

“In that he stands alone,” said Ross. “Shall we have him if he’ll come?”

“I think so, if Gilbert is agreeable,” replied Dennis; and on Gilbert
assenting, he continued, “I am sure we couldn’t do better, and as for
coming, he’ll be only too glad; he pressed me to allow him to come here
with us, but I thought it best not.”

A week soon passed, and with many a good-bye and promise of speedy
return they entered their vessel, and a few minutes later were slowly
soaring upwards from the strange and beautiful Bona. Once outside her
atmosphere, they made straight for Earth, and when nearing home, long
lines of ships, flying electric bunting, honoured their home-coming and
sailed with them to Derwent.

This time the aërial regulations were perfect and the _Regina_ settled
into her shed like a falling feather, her passengers coming out a
little later to receive their hero-worship.




                                CHAPTER V

                          AN INNOCENT OFFENDER


           “Mischief that may be helped, is hard to know,
            And danger going on still multiplies;
            When harm hath many wings, care comes too late.
                                       (+Lord Brooke.+)

“I knew you’d have to send for me, Dennis, old man!” exclaimed Godfrey
Spenser, as he flung open the door, threw his coat on a seat close by
from which it fell unheeded to the floor, and sat down amongst the
three friends, all in a rush; “and here you are only back two days and
you’re stuck.”

“Yes, Godfrey, we’re stuck, as you say, and want your assistance,”
replied Dennis, smiling. “Can you go back with us?”

“When?”

“As soon as you like. It is now mid-September; can you go in a week?”

“I told you, Dennis, and you too, Ross, you’d never manage that ship
alone; with all your theoretical knowledge of electricity, you need
a practical hand; I will undertake that and help you out. I never
expected to see you again, and when you stuck on the Kidney so long, I
told folks it was very doubtful if you would be able to work her back,
reversed.”

“It was very good of you, Godfrey,” replied Dennis, laughing, as did
the others. “Very good indeed, but I think that between us we can
manage the working all right—anyway we have done so far. What we want
you for is not that at all.”

“Oh!” ejaculated Godfrey in surprise.

“While we were on Bona,” resumed Dennis, “the folks there told us of a
microbe that would stand fire of any degree of heat, and we have been
thinking you could help us to cultivate some for a little scheme we
have.”

“Microbe? Rubbish!” snapped Godfrey.

“We think it’s a microbe,” said Ross.

“Tell me all you know,” ordered Godfrey, now keenly interested.

“Tell him, Ross,” said Dennis.

“No, you,” said Ross; and Dennis began,—

“You are aware, from our ‘waves,’ that the Bonians supply the solar
system with vegetation of all kinds, even that which grows in hot
climates and, in some places, on volcanoes, for which purpose they
import a microbe from Jupiter, which in some way fertilises the plant,
or does something else——”

“That’s extremely lucid,” interrupted Godfrey; “we shall come to
something at this rate!”

“This microbe goes through several metamorphoses,” continued Dennis,
smiling, “and finally winds itself in a cocoon and then——”

“Microbe, did you say?” asked Godfrey, incredulously.

“Yes, certainly!”

“Why certainly? not grub, for instance?”

“Perhaps; microbe, or grub; they’re the same thing,” answered Dennis,
lightly.

“Are they? It’s about time you had a tutor, young man!” said Godfrey,
severely.

“Why! what’s the difference?”

“Poor fellow! get on with your story!” said Godfrey, wearily, and
Dennis proceeded,—

“Briefly, Godfrey, what we want is this. You are to go with us to
Jupiter—not to help us, or do anything at the vessel; you’ll have to
promise us that—but to lay in a stock of these microbes, or grubs, or
whatever you call them, and feed them up so that they’ll cocoon for us;
then you’ll unwind these cocoons or deal with them so as to give us
some material to make into fine gauze, or cloth, or net—we shall have
to experiment with it to see which form is best, and if things turn out
well we will all go to the sun!”

“The sun!” almost shouted Godfrey, in amazement, sitting bolt upright
with a jerk. “Are you mad?”

“Not at all,” said Ross, calmly; “and you are coming with us, Godfrey.
We can’t do without you.”

“But the heat! You would all be burnt up!”

“If our experiments are successful,” said Gilbert, “we shall not be
more than warm. The idea is startling at first, it startled us; but
if what the Bonians told us is correct—and we have no reason to doubt
it—this cocoon should not admit the passage of heat and flame; and
we thought that if the net really would withstand heat and was also
sufficiently strong to withstand passage through air, we would envelop
the whole ship in it and be proof against any heat, even that of the
sun.”

“But you might want millions and millions of grubs and cocoons, which
would probably take years,” broke in Godfrey, still incredulous.

“That’s why we want you, Godfrey,” replied Ross; “you see we don’t
understand these things.”

“Cela va sans dire!” observed Godfrey, drily.

“You must come with us,” pressed Dennis. “The folk in Jupiter will tell
you all about them, and you’ve got to provide us with enough net or
gauze to cover the ship. For doing this we’ll take you to the sun as a
specially privileged passenger. Now, is that a bargain?”

“If any one else had asked me that question but you two,” returned
Godfrey, looking at Dennis and Ross, whom he had known for many years,
“I should have said they had gone stark, staring mad. You, sir,”
looking at Gilbert, “I only know by repute; I never met you before,
so I have no means of gauging your mental balance, but if it is
anything like as far gone as theirs, there never was such a foolhardy,
crack-brained project as we four idiots will be engaged in.”

“Then you’re going with us?” exclaimed all three excitedly.

“Of course I am! I’ve said so all along,” replied Godfrey, quietly,
“and if we come back in an uncremated form I shall be surprised.”

“Of course we shall test the thing severely first,” said Gilbert. “When
can you start?”

“Any time. Where’s Jupiter now?”

“I looked it up to-day,” replied Gilbert. “He is due to reach his
meridian about midnight, and will be visible all night. As seen from
here he will be opposite the sun—that is ‘in opposition’—on the 15th
of October, or a month from to-day, and at his best time for approach.
As viewed from here he will be moving towards the right in Aquarius,
and Luna will pass over him on the fourth and thirtieth of next month,
October.”

“And how will that fit in?”

“Excellently, if we start in a week, better still in four days.”

“Right!” said Godfrey. “And is the whole thing to be kept quiet?”

“As the grave!” replied Dennis. “We want to be off without any fuss
this time, and have decided to go on a cloudy night, and not show
ourselves till well away.”

“Then I’ll be mum,” said Godfrey, “and get off to find some apparatus;
we shall want a tidy pile of things. I’ll send them to the shed
to-morrow or the next day and be here myself the day following, that is
three days from now, and you can start the first cloudy night you like
after that. How will that fit in?”

“Splendidly,” they all cried, delighted.

Ten minutes later Godfrey’s airship was waiting outside a wholesale
store, the proprietor almost overcome at the magnitude of the orders
given.

On the nineteenth of September the night was very black and stormy,
with lowering clouds and a strong drizzle of rain. Very few ships were
out and none near, for no one suspected the _Regina_ would stay but
four or five days after being away three months, so that nobody thought
it worth while to commence a systematic watch on the shed so soon, and
on such a night those aloft were in their cabins, making themselves
as cosy as possible with nothing exposed to the elements except the
regulation guard and location-lights.

The four travellers, therefore, reached the shed unseen by any one, and
this time very silently, like a silver spirit, the _Regina_ rose in
the cold and pitiless rain. Every light in the vessel was concealed,
and in the saloon the only lights were a few hooded lamps over the
switch-board, at which stood Gilbert, directing the movements of the
vessel. Godfrey was standing at the other side of the room, his face
pressed close against the window, his nose flattened out like a piece
of rubber, quite unconscious of the grotesqueness of his appearance, so
absorbed was he, for he had, of course, never been up so high before.

“I say, Ross, she’s a beauty!” he exclaimed, as Ross came and stood
beside him. “She travels as sweetly as a swan, and I don’t feel
the least motion or vibration in the engines. It was a good thing
you joined Dennis, though I’d have found the thing out myself, if
he’d asked me. Just fancy such a fine ship being unapproachable for
centuries! Great Bona! what is that? She’s struck!” he cried, in
horror, as an enormous cloud that they had just cut through burst with
an awful simultaneous flash and roar; the same instant the _Regina_
became a mass of living flame which seemed to set fire to the
whole heavens, and the clouds around them became one solid sheet of
electricity.

“Now, how would you deal with that, Godfrey?” queried Ross, quietly.

“Say my prayers!” replied Godfrey, briefly, decidedly frightened,
though somewhat reassured by the general indifference of his companions
who, he saw, were paying no attention to the furies outside, so he
turned to Ross and inquired, “Is there not danger?”

“Not a bit!” answered Ross. “Every flash that strikes calls out the
same, or more, power from the ship to resist it. She has her repulsive
force on now, and no matter what force she is passing through, that
force is repulsed—unit for unit—and even more, so that it merely
amounts to splutter on both sides, and the forces being always equally
opposed, the result is nil, for the ship not only takes no hurt, but
proceeds in spite of everything.”

“It looks frightening enough, anyway,” observed Godfrey, considerably
awed by the sight which so engrossed his attention that he did not
notice Dennis letting out a small cup-shaped object which he caused to
fall, when it sank some distance on a flexible wire which ran off its
roller at enormous speed. All at once he saw it and asked what it was,
and its object.

“It’s a floating light,” replied Dennis; “it will fall till it is a
quarter of a mile over the shed, when it will meet its equilibrium
and remain poised—see, it is slowing up; now it has stopped and there
is slack, for its weight sank it too low and it has now risen and
is floating in perfect poise. I fire it through this switch on the
roller, which at the same time releases the cord by fusing the soft
connecting-wire, and you see the cord is rewinding; the shed and a mile
round it will be lit up with a red light for thirty hours. That’s our
good-bye signal.”

“But they can’t see us, I suppose?” asked Godfrey, looking down and
seeing a glow come through the clouds below them like the effulgence of
a rising sun.

“No,” answered Dennis, “the clouds are too thick, but all will know by
the light that we are here, and Gilbert is ‘waving’ soon, so there’ll
be a fine scramble for the disk afterwards.”

“Really!” said Godfrey. “I read of that paper business the last time
you went up, but I thought there was nothing in it.”

“You unbelieving sinner! you’re as bad as the rest!” laughed Dennis,
and having wound the last of the cord, he attached another soft-wire
terminal so that it should be ready for any similar purpose at a
moment’s notice, and passed on to another part of the ship, leaving
Godfrey examining the wire reel. Whilst he was standing there Gilbert
passed on his way to the ‘wave’ apparatus and cautioned Godfrey, “Don’t
touch that, old man, or there’ll be trouble!”

“Oh, I know all about these things, Gilbert. I shall come to no harm,”
responded Godfrey, smiling confidently, and walking away.

A few minutes later, a blinding flash of light went across the room,
accompanied by the peculiar crackle of a powerful short-circuit,
immediately followed by a yell of pain and terror from Godfrey.

“You idiot!” shouted Ross, “why can’t you keep your fingers out of
mischief? Didn’t you promise us faithfully that you’d touch nothing?”

“I’m awfully sorry, Ross, I am indeed!” said Godfrey, contritely, but
whether from the broken promise, or from the pain he felt, only he
knew, as he turned away nursing his badly blistered hand. “I only moved
that switch on the roller to see what it would do.”

“Well, you’ve seen now! and if you do any more of your monkey tricks
we’ll put you in a cabin and keep you prisoner. You don’t know
what you’re doing when you move switches here, and you might kill
us all. Now don’t let it occur again!” and highly incensed Ross
attached another terminal on the wire, and the other two running up
gave the culprit a few forcible admonitions; after which Godfrey
humbly apologised, saying he would not transgress again, at the same
time protesting they were throwing his kindness in his face, when
electricity was his forte and he wanted to assist in order to relieve
them.

Tranquillity being restored, Godfrey strolled to a window to look out,
and very shortly he cried: “Oh! do look here, ‘triad’” (which word he
used when referring to the three), calling his friends to the window,
where they saw far behind them a great dark mass, getting slowly
smaller as they left it in the distance. “What is it? It has a halo of
light round it,” he cried, excitedly.

“It’s our Earth,” said Gilbert, quietly.

“That!” vociferated Godfrey. “Do you mean to say that we are now, so
soon, outside the Earth’s atmosphere?”

They all laughed at his surprise, and Gilbert went on, “At this moment
we are about fifty thousand miles distant from Earth, and what you see
is the illumined atmosphere of the further side. If you go to the end
window, you will see we are going straight to Jupiter.”

“Why straight?” queried Godfrey, staying where he was.

“Because we always travel in a straight line.”

“But can you not turn aside?”

“Certainly, but after turning, by our own desire or the force of some
other body, the original normal position—the straight line—will be
resumed and maintained till again altered.”

“Really!” exclaimed Godfrey. “But how about speed? How do you get it?”

“We get our repulsive force from the gravity of a heavy body,” answered
Dennis; “and in the old days when the ship was first used, the
inventors could not control a greater attractive or repulsive force
than the gravity of the object from which they obtained it; but that
was long ago, and since then science has made great strides. Adding the
science of to-day to the secret of the ship’s power, we can get a force
equal to the force of the gravity of any particular source multiplied
some thousands of times, which makes the _Regina’s_ power irresistible.
For instance, we could exert more than a hundred thousand times the
power of Jupiter’s gravity, or the sun’s, and could displace both if we
wished.”

“I should just like to see the sun go the other way round,” remarked
Godfrey, musingly. “Would it make much difference?” and as the trio
laughed, he continued, “Here, Gilbert, you’re the physicist! Give me
some particulars about this heat business, so that I can be thinking
things over by the time we get to Jupiter, to enable me to recognise
this fire-eating grub when I come across him. Give me his life-history
if you can; it will save a lot of trouble.”

They all laughed, and Gilbert replied,—“You’ve got to find all that out
for yourself, old fellow; we know nothing more than you know already.”

“But what _is_ heat? What temperature has the cocoon to stand, and how
and when and all the rest of it? You see, I’m working in the dark. Is
it heat as matter it must stand? And what is the effect of heat in
non-atmospheric space?”

“That’s a big order,” responded Gilbert. “To begin with, until we get
the web we cannot tell how heat will affect it. As for what _is_ heat
it is difficult to say. We cannot take touch as a criterion, as we
might say a certain substance ‘feels’ hot or cold, such as wool being
classed amongst the hot and metal amongst the cold. Some scientists
say heat is ‘ponderable’ and others consider it ‘caloric’—a form of
‘matter,’ but to me both are wrong.”

“How do you make that out?” queried Godfrey.

“The fact that it is _im_ponderable is fully proved in that it cannot
be weighed, for it is well known that a cold substance does not
increase its weight on receiving heat, but remains the same weight as
before being heated, and it cannot by any possibility be considered
‘matter’ or its ‘quantity’ would remain unchangeable so far as human
means could influence it.”

“How can that be?”

“Because there are innumerable instances in which heat can be and is
regularly produced without either flame or combustion, such as raising
the temperature by friction, and you know that if several materials of
different degrees of heat are placed in the same room they will all
become eventually of the same temperature; thus, if a bucketful of iced
water is placed in a hot room it will itself be warmed and the air in
the room cooled till both are equal. This, therefore, disproves the
‘materiality’ of heat.”

“But the laws of heat are constant, are they not?”

“Not at all,” resumed Gilbert. “In some cases it is governed by certain
laws; in others it seems to set the same laws at defiance, giving
strange contradictions. Take water, for instance; most substances
expand by heat and contract by cold, but in water there are strange
anomalies, the scientific causes of which are mere hypotheses, though
their utility is well known. Only to a certain degree is water
contracted by cold, when a further increase of cold expands it instead
of causing a greater contraction; thus water cooled will contract to
40° F., and if further cooled it expands till 32° F. is reached; it
then becomes solid, or ice, when it again expands, frequently bursting
the pipe or vessel in which it is contained.”

“But that serves a good purpose in the physical economy, I suppose?”

“Certainly; this departure from the general law of nature is wise and
providential, for as the water cools below 40° F. it increases in
buoyancy and rises, to float on the surface, and when ice forms below
it soon comes to the surface, on which it rests, protecting the water
under it from freezing and preserving the lives of fishes and insects,
for it is obvious that if rivers and seas were frozen to the bottom
all life in them would be destroyed. Many of the seas would become
nothing less than a constantly changing and unchartable conglomeration
of sunken rocks of ice, and would be altogether unnavigable, for all
the bergs would sink where no sun could get at them to melt and reduce
their bulk.”

“Go on, Gilbert!” said Godfrey, encouragingly, as his friend paused. “I
have nothing to do, and this is deeply interesting to me; besides, I
have for some time been experimenting in freezing micro-organisms.”

By no means loth to ride his pet hobby, Gilbert proceeded,—“An even
more wonderful anomaly lies in the fact that if we take, say, a pound
of hot water at, say, 100° and mix it with a pound of cold water at 0°,
we get two pounds of water at 50°, the temperature of the hotter being
reduced and the colder increased in equal ratio, but if one of them is
ice, the temperature of the whole is that of the colder.”

“I am afraid I don’t follow you there.”

“Suppose, then, we take a given quantity of ice and melt it over
a fire, it is utterly impossible—no matter what amount of heat is
applied—to raise the temperature till all the ice has been melted; thus
a pound of ice at 0° and a pound of water at 100° cannot possibly be
raised higher than 0°, but will remain two pounds of water at 0° till
the ice is melted, irrespective of the heat applied. And if we take
the same two pounds of water in experiment further, and bring it to
boiling-point, converting it into steam, no amount of heat given to it
will raise the temperature of the steam a fraction of a degree till
_all_ the water has become steam; but when all of it is steam, we can
then, by the application of more heat, get superheated steam, to an
explosive point of enormous force. These are but a few of the complete
violations of the ordinary laws of nature, and they answer their
purpose well in the economy of creation, for you will see that did heat
but raise the temperature of the ice in an equal ratio to its addition,
the ice would melt in a moment, and thus the first warm day, or the
first ray of sunshine, would cause every particle of snow and ice on
the hills and in the valleys to melt instantly, and the mighty glaciers
and bergs would also become almost instantly liquid, and a general
inundation of many parts of the world would be the inevitable result;
whilst in the case of steam, if that formed in equal ratio with the
heat applied to water, the water would immediately become _all_ steam
and would at once be superheated and explosive. The useful and harmless
saucepan, kettle, or boiler, would produce such a deadly explosive
as to require special apparatus and precautions to manufacture and
manipulate steam, or even hot water, and the mere drinking of a
harmless cup of any warm beverage, or eating steaming food, would have
more disastrous results and blow us to atoms more effectively than
drinking ‘corpsogen’ and then falling down.”

“Then what do you consider heat to be?”

“I think it is only possible to consider heat as ‘energy,’ as
discovered by the experiments of Rumford and Davy in 1798 and 1799,
the latter’s experiments on the melting of ice by friction being too
well known to be detailed, and the same Davy, about 1812, discovered
that “the immediate cause of the phenomenon of heat is motion, and
the laws of its communication are precisely the same as the laws of
the communication of motion.” I consider this the only true idea,
notwithstanding the modern tendency to discard these old theories for
newer. I can only conceive of heat as particles in motion, and it
can only be measured satisfactorily by the speed or energy of the
disturbed particles, which in many cases causes a distinct vibration
in them, and in the case of gases a direct dashing and pressing of the
separate particles, not only against each other, but against the sides
or walls of the vessel in which they are confined, in their efforts to
expand by separation; and bearing all these things in mind, Godfrey,
if the idea on which we have embarked and in which we want your help
is successful, we can make some gauze, fasten it on the outside of
the ship, and instead of it and the ship setting up a fresh series of
_their own_ moving particles in the presence of heat—such as we shall
encounter when in close proximity to the sun—and becoming destroyed by
the energy or the intense vibration of their own particles, this net
will so far _itself_ resist this vibration and thus protect itself and
the ship within it. This resisting power will be considerably augmented
by the _Regina’s_ own repulsive force, which will be incalculable,
being obtained from the sun and capable of enormous augmentation,
and this will also assist and give great repulsive force to the net,
thus more than counterbalancing any tendency to its becoming heated
by so much as a degree. If this theory works out, as we feel sure it
will, assuming that the cocoon _is_ fireproof, while all around may be
molten in the terrific heat, the _Regina_ and all in her will be cool
as a cucumber, literally; for if the net acts as we have reason to
hope it will, the protecting force will de-atomise and repel anything
and everything—heat included—for at least a foot beyond the ship,
and covered with our net, we shall still be able to see what the sun
really is, go through his atmosphere and photosphere, which even our
telescopes have not been able to penetrate, and do excellent work for
science, and that whilst we ourselves are in no way inconvenienced.

“And now, Godfrey, you have our whole scheme complete, and whether
we are successful or not depends on you and you alone. It may be a
wild-goose chase we are on, but we believe the Bonians, and trust you
to bring the whole scheme to a successful issue, as we are sure you
will. What do you think?”

“Think!” cried Godfrey, enthusiastically, “think! I think it is
great—very great—and that you are a triad of very clever—idiots, shall
I say, for going to risk a flight to the sun! Never mind, if there is
any truth at all in what you have been told about this bug, it shall
succeed; I tell you it _shall!_ and we four will test the net on old
Sol himself. But I’m going too fast, I’m losing my reason. I must not
be carried away with enthusiasm; as yet I’m in my right mind, so I’ll
not go further than that, or talk about settling on the sun till we see
how my grubs turn out.”

During the whole of this conversation all had been so interested that
they had not paid any attention to the vessel, for there was little
danger of chance collision, as the great repulsive force would keep
any ordinary world or planetoid from her path, and in the case of a
more powerful world, any deviation from her straight flight, or any
strong attractive force which she might enter, would automatically
signal itself, and show the strength on the gravitometer. Also the
_Regina_ was, to a certain extent, self-adjusting, and would thus go
rounds or away from, any large and powerful object, and after the
influence had ceased to be felt, she would resume her original straight
course, for it is evident that if the force of A equals the force
of B, they are both equal, consequently neither can be drawn to the
other, and the nearer they approach the greater will be the repulsion
which drives both away, for the gravity and repulsion of both are
equal. The _Regina_, therefore, now she had been perfected as far as
modern science permitted, could never by any possibility collide with
anything, no matter how powerful, for her force would now always equal
the opposing force. In the case of landing, this could be effected
in two ways: by increasing the _Regina’s_ gravitating force, by
converting some of her repulsion into gravitation (or attraction), and
thus drawing the other world to her, because of her greater attractive
powers; or by retarding her repulsive force, and thus bringing her
within the attraction of the world on which she wished to settle. This
latter was the usual method of alighting, as the former would most
certainly have upset the fixed orbits of the worlds displaced.

Suddenly the needle on the indicator swerved, giving its familiar
tinkle, which signified the nearness of approach to a world or object
having gravitating force. Ross, who was nearest the observatory door,
rushed up and then called Dennis and Gilbert, who ran up the steps
and looked out of the dome, which gave them a view in every direction
except vertically downwards.

Behind them lay the stars in strange and almost unrecognisable
positions, for the various constellations and stars seen on Earth
as of fixed shape and position on a dome-shaped setting, were not
now on a setting at all, but all in different planes vast distances
apart, some viewed ‘end on,’ others at all degrees of angles, and
their constellatory shapes no longer distinguishable. Wherever the
travellers were, it was plain they were not going to Jupiter, for
they were leaving him far away on the left and were heading straight
for some strange, dark object which was looming before them in a wild
confusion of what seemed to be caverns, craters and mountains, and
the gravitometer-needle was slowly moving, already showing forward
resistance to the repulsion of the ship, proving the object had gravity
at that distance of about 0.10 compared with Earth as 1.

“What is it?” exclaimed Dennis, “and why have we altered our course.
Look, there is Jupiter in another direction altogether!”

It was inexplicable. None of them had moved the steering switches since
Gilbert had aimed for Jupiter after leaving Earth, and Godfrey was
not allowed in those parts of the sanctum and observatory where the
controlling switches were fixed, which parts were guarded. They had not
heard or read of the ship ever having gone wrong, and their knowledge
of the working principle made an accidental swerving seem impossible,
yet already the world they were approaching blotted out the whole of
the forward heavens in a dense mass of dark shade, save for a halo of
light which came from the sunlight on the opposite side, and in its
penumbra of diffusion into the deep shadows showed mountains and plains
and a dreary waste of country.

“Suppose we pull up and travel with it for a while,” suggested Gilbert,
“and then we’ll call up that idiot downstairs; he’ll perhaps tell us
something.”

“Certainly,” replied Dennis, who shouted Godfrey, and up came their
friend two steps at a time. Gilbert made the necessary alteration and
joined the others, as Dennis said, “Have you ever passed this barrier,
Godfrey?”

“No, not this one. I went behind that downstairs; I expect they’re the
same; they look it,” replied Godfrey, nonchalantly.

“When was that?”

“Just after we left Derwent.”

“Before you burnt your hand?”

“Certainly. You made me promise then on my honour not to touch
anything, and I have left all those things severely alone and have not
even stepped behind that rail since, which is hard lines on a fellow,
considering that electricity is my forte, and you are unnecessarily
busy when I could relieve you; but volunteered kindness is never
appreciated!” and Godfrey looked very much injured. “Can I help you
now?” he asked, brightening up.

Ignoring the question, Dennis asked, “Did you move anything whilst
there? Did you touch _anything?_”

“Well,—no ...yes—not to mean anything, though. I just moved a switch
off and on and looked round to see which lights it controlled, but
nothing happened, so I did not bother any more with it, but came out
and tried that reel thing immediately inside the barrier rail in the
saloon and burnt my hand, worse luck!”

“Would you mind going downstairs, Godfrey? We’ll be with you in a
minute,” said Dennis, politely, and Godfrey descended, surprised at
this unusual deference and wondering why they all looked so solemn.
When he had gone, Ross exclaimed, “Now what can you make of a fellow
like that! He means well and is mad on helping, but if this goes on
he’ll kill us all!”

“I don’t think so,” said Dennis; “he has kept his word, and will
continue to do so. I don’t think he will give us any further anxiety
or transgress again; however, we must not let him off lightly, but so
frighten him that he will never step on prohibited ground again. It
will not do to let any one go behind the barrier.”

“We will have everything in contact from this moment,” said Gilbert,
severely, “and run no risks either of accidents or of any of the
secrets leaking out. If any one except ourselves comes up to the rail
he will be held there till we come.”

“Yes, that will be best,” said Dennis; “we must, for the sake of our
general interests and safety, exercise every care, and from this moment
one of us at least must be in charge in turn.”

“The switch he moved must have been the one directing the steering, and
the vessel turned accordingly and kept the new course when he brought
the switch back to ‘block,’” said Gilbert; “had he understood the
mechanism, he would not have used that switch only and then we should
have resumed our original line, notwithstanding the deviation. As it
is—there is Jupiter! and here, in front is—what?”

“Let’s go down and deal with Godfrey,” proposed Ross, and they all
descended to the saloon, where the delinquent was whistling to himself
whilst curiously watching the great mass now below them. He turned at
their entrance, inquiring, “What is that? Is it Jupiter?”

“No one knows. We are lost!” said Dennis, gloomily, “and it is your
doing!” And then the three of them proceeded to frighten the poor
microscopist almost out of his wits, with suggestion of the fearful
doom they would have met, had not their position been noticed in
time to prevent the ship crashing to destruction. They succeeded in
instilling into him such consternation as kept him away from the
barrier ever after, nor would he come near that part of the saloon or
observatory again, though he often begged to be allowed to ‘drive’ the
vessel, for he said it only needed a switch moving and she’d go on for
ever, which opinion only drew a benign and soothing smile from his
friends, which he could not quite understand.

Godfrey disposed of, Dennis turned to Ross and said, “Just test the
atmosphere, Ross, will you?” and in a short time he returned saying
the atmosphere was variable, and he thought they had better go across
the world to get several samples before they thought of landing.
Accordingly, the _Regina_ shot ahead till she came into the sunshine
forward and then back into the sunshine at the opposite side, about
half a dozen bags being filled with atmospheric air at different points
easily located. Whilst Gilbert and Ross were testing these samples,
Dennis took measurements of distances, gravity on surface, speed
travelled, etc. They had come about 245,000 miles, but having altered
their course, it was probable that this measurement was in excess of
the actual distance of the object from Earth, as measured on a straight
line, which is, of course, the shortest distance between two points.
The diameter would be, roughly speaking, about 2160 miles, and the
total surface was, as near as could be ascertained without going all
round, about 14,500,000 square miles or a little over, or O.074 of
Earth, and its volume about 5,300,000,000 cubic miles; its density was
about 3.57 of Earth-water, or 0.63 of earth, reckoning earth as 1; it
was travelling in its orbit with a velocity of 2273 miles per hour, and
had an equatorial velocity of rotation of a little over ten miles an
hour.

Just as these calculations were complete Gilbert and Ross came in
laughing, and asked Dennis, “Where are we, do you think?”

“On the shady side of old Luna,” replied Dennis, “or I’ll eat her!”

“Right!” said Ross; “we can’t be anywhere else. You, Godfrey, have
shot us to Luna instead of Jupiter, and now we know where we are, the
positions of the other planets can be fixed also.”

“Luna! and after all those elaborate calculations!” exclaimed Godfrey,
sarcastically. “What remarkable brain-power there is on board, triad,
to discover it at last—but better late than never!”

No one on Earth has ever seen the dark side of the moon, owing to the
illuminated or convex edge always being turned towards the sun; there
is, therefore, continual light on one side of the moon and constant
comparative darkness on the other, the crescent altering in shape by
becoming increased or diminished as we on Earth see more or less of the
illumined side as the moon changes its position; consequently, the dark
side is hidden from Earth in almost every phase except occasionally
when, owing to libration, it is possible to see those parts beyond the
edge, or border, of the lunar disc, which alternately come into view
and are hidden. It was, therefore, perhaps not unprofitable, whilst
they were there, to gain, a little information on several points about
which the scientists of Earth had been in dispute for centuries.

So the travellers sailed round Luna and once for all set at rest
all disputes by actual observation. It was proved beyond the shadow
of a doubt that the planet did possess an atmosphere of extreme
variableness. On the bright side, towards the edges, or what would be
the edges seen from Earth, this atmosphere was extremely transparent,
but capable of supporting life as we know it. There were no mists,
clouds, or vapour, consequently the sight penetrated through the
atmosphere without the softening effect of that delicate and beautiful
variety of colour of terrestrial scenery. On the shadow side, the
atmosphere was much more dense, and this darker hemisphere was palled
in a faint twilight, in which could be seen considerable stretches of
morass, peopled by strange beings who became frantically aggressive
when the _Regina_ swooped down amongst them in order to land. Gifts
were let down from the ship, and every known effort was made to show
the inhabitants the friendly spirit of their visitors, but without
avail; the self-deluded Lunians worked themselves into rage so violent
and impotent as to cause many to become cataleptic. This was repeated
at all parts of the surface, so that in kindness to them the _Regina_
sailed round to the sunny side, where she was again seen by the
astronomers on Earth, and noted on the bright disc of the full moon,
not as a flashing shadow as at her first encircling of the satellite,
but this time as a tiny, floating cloud of flittering light and shade
and brilliant iridescence, as her bright sides alternately were shaded
and then reflected the rays of the sun to Earth in dazzling spots.

Having traversed the whole surface of the moon Luna, they then waved
this message to Earth,—

“We are investigating Luna, and while on the spot we can clear up all
those points on which Earth information is at present uncertain.

“That surface of Luna which is illumined by the sun is rock, sand,
stone and earth, covered in places with rich and beautiful vegetation,
both wild and cultivated, but all the trees are small and bush-like,
the colour a peculiar russet-brown and gold, which on Earth seems like
bare rock or ice; on a few of the highest peaks snow and ice are seen,
though not in great quantity. The people on the two sides are entirely
different races of beings, but all extremely unfriendly to us, so we
are not landing. The atmosphere is exceedingly dry and clear, with no
clouds and very little vapour. The ramparts and waterways which we
see from Earth are not natural but made by the people, and the quays
and locks are now almost generally being constructed and repaired.
At present there is little water on the illumined portion, though it
seems plentiful on the dark side; there are also many springs, and the
people are certainly preparing for a rainy season, or some other source
of irrigation; they seem intelligent, and all work proceeds on highly
scientific lines.

“With regard to the so-called seas and lakes, the _Mare Crisium_ is a
plain of dark vegetation, oval in shape and situated near the edge of
a new moon, as seen from Earth. The irregular, dark plain, _Oceanus
Procellarum_, is thickly wooded with the small and dark brown trees
already mentioned. It has open places of rock, thickly covered, and
veined with metals which are exceedingly abundant over the whole of
the planet, and can be seen lying on the surface and in rich strata
everywhere, as volcanic action has exposed them, so that they reflect
the sun’s rays like mirrors and are dazzling to view. We should say
these are the cause of the strange, bright lights and flashes often
seen through telescopes, for, of course, on the moving moon they are
always changing. Luna is exceedingly rich in all kinds of metals,
including gold, much of which is on the surface. What we have been
accustomed to consider marsh, we found to be grass-land, plentifully
spotted with darker grass and earth and some peculiar loose earth
containing unknown minerals in fine grains. An old lake bed, as we
expected to find it, is now used, apparently, as an amphitheatre for
games and sports. The broad white ‘rays’ which have been a mystery
to astronomers of all ages, and which diverge from many of the
lunar ring-plains, comprise seven distinct systems, each composed
of many hundreds of rays. They pass over the surface of the plains
and mountains parallel to the configuration of them, thus partaking
of their shape and, as seen from Earth, differ from them only in
brightness; they vary from eight to fifteen miles in breadth and many
are of enormous length. Perhaps the longest are from Tycho, but instead
of being two thousand miles, as measured on Earth, we find these, from
actual measurement, to be two thousand six hundred and twenty-four
miles in extent. These hitherto inexplicable streaks are caused by
peculiar effects of refraction.

“Most of the country is highly volcanic, and there are numerous
mountains, volcanoes and craters of all sizes. On many of these
the greater part of the surface is covered with metallic deposits
which throw upwards the strong reflections of the sun’s rays; these
reflections are caught by the atmosphere which is in perceptible layers
not seen from Earth. These layers maintain the same height above the
ground, regular or irregular, the lower being about two miles deep,
the next being a shade more dense, unlike the atmosphere of Earth,
which is more dense as it approaches the ground. The reflection,
therefore, readily penetrates the lighter and more transparent layer
and, on striking the more dense, becomes refracted by it and is carried
along in enormous streaks at the junction of the two, as from the
surface of a mirror or from a silvery cloud, thus forming great rays
which follow the curvature of the ground at a height of about two
miles, and, partaking of the colour of the sun and being transparent,
so colour the ground below them that on Earth there appears little
difference except in brightness. We are just now sinking through that
proceeding from Tycho, and you will be convinced that this explanation
is correct by noticing that we cut off all the rays from beyond us on
the shadow side. Now we are in the lower stratum, and you will see
the rays proceeding for thousands of miles as before—we see them over
our heads like a transparent golden cloud on which is a faint shadow
of our vessel, though not sufficiently strong to be distinguishable
from Earth. Now we have left the lower plane and are rising again;
our dome has just cut through the rays, casting a long shadow like a
triangle, the apex of which is our dome, and this shadow may appear
to you as a faint line or pencilling of shade. In this place we have
also measured the depth of the stratum from the ground and find it
is exactly two miles, as elsewhere, so will you correct your present
measurements to this. Earth-sighted instruments are in error because
they must first penetrate through the fifty miles, or thereabouts, of
Earth’s atmosphere, then travel through the thousands of miles of space
minus the atmosphere, and have then to penetrate another and altogether
different atmosphere, and Earth measurements at best are only
comparative. It is impossible for you on Earth to see, measure, and
understand as we do here, for you cannot allow for unbounded vacuum and
these strange atmospheres without coming into them, especially as Earth
measurements _in vacuo_ must necessarily be made through the flask or
vessel bounding the vacuum, and consequently are not strictly reliable.
We give you only what we verify by actual measurement and experiment
made on the spot, and you may rely upon all details being correct.

“We are now leaving Luna without landing and are going straight to
Jupiter. Good-bye!”




                               CHAPTER VI

                            THE DOOMED PLANET


               “A hopeless darkness settles o’er my fate;
                   •       •       •       •       •
                My doom is closed.”
                                           (+Count Basil.+)

From the moon Luna the good ship sailed straight for the brilliant
Jupiter, the giant planet of the solar system, passing Mars and
numerous planetoids on the way. It was almost overwhelming to be flying
through space as silently and as steadily as if standing, and to see
the various worlds suspended in the black heavens, each turning more
or less rapidly and at the same time travelling in a fixed orbit in
the race round its governing sun. Words cannot describe the feeling of
vastness which seemed to crush the travellers with its awful solemnity
and power. As far as the powerful observatory telescope could reach,
and beyond that, myriads and myriads of stars; stars everywhere! all
lost in the immensity of space. Space and stars! each vista opening out
still more stars and still more space, up and down, to right and left,
every space bounded by still greater space. And the natural thought
came into their minds that if anything went wrong with the ship, what
would become of them? where would they go? for they and their puny
ship were not of so much moment in that infinite vastness as is one
of the thousands of microbes on a pin’s point in comparison to the
size of the whole Earth. And ever as they flew through space a large
world or planetoid would glide swiftly past them—stately and silent
as a ghost—so near that through the glasses they could distinguish on
its surface moving life, apparently unconscious of the enormous speed
at which the world was spinning and travelling through space; people
who, perhaps, as a whole, could not realise that such simple laws as
gravity and motion and a thin atmosphere kept them in safety on what
might be likened to a single speck of dust floating in a sunbeam. And
as the adventurers had all these things impressed upon their hearts and
minds by their unique position, they felt that but for the Divine Love,
combined with the blessings of mental and physical strength, their
intellects must have given way at the mere thought of their littleness
amongst so much grandeur. They were seeing something of the Mind of the
Creator, and they were compelled to exercise the greatest self-control
to prevent hysteria or insanity, as all this glorious mystery was
unfolded before them, as they rushed with enormous speed across the
vast expanse of heaven, every hour the mighty Jupiter becoming larger
and larger as they approached him.

Roughly speaking he is about 490,000,000 miles distant from the sun and
his periodical revolution is about twelve Earth-years, his enormous
bulk is about 1400 times greater than Earth and his day and night
about ten Earth-hours. He travels in his orbit at over 29,000 miles
per hour, and the equatorial parts rotate at 28,000 miles an hour.
At the time the _Regina_ was christened, in the old days, the days
of King Edward the Seventh, Jupiter had six moons—the _Regina_ gave
him another, the one she had stolen—making seven: since then six more
had been discovered, and the travellers saw there were four others,
making in all, seventeen; this alone was worth coming for. Also as
they drew nearer they saw that his equatorial velocity of rotation,
compared with Earth, was so great that if they landed they would be
so light as to be flung off into space and it would be necessary for
them to be made heavier, but if this were done, would their physical
strength enable them to bear the increased weight, and would the extra
atmospheric pressure so oppress them as to cause congestion of the
brain, or in other ways be fatal? However, the risk had to be taken,
otherwise it would be difficult to get the insects they had come so far
to obtain, if they were unable to leave the vessel.

Whilst they were discussing the point they were drawing sufficiently
near to elucidate several controversial matters. For centuries it
had been thought that the belts of Jupiter were vapour or clouds
and nothing more, but now the voyagers distinctly saw what would be
hidden and probably unknown to the Jovians themselves, who from their
position on the underside of their atmosphere could not be aware of
its appearance as seen from the outside. It was unmistakable that the
belts were caused by millions of fine particles, like dust, which were
constantly coming through the atmosphere, being of too little gravity
to remain on the planet, the rapid revolution of which flung them
off into space by centrifugal force, and reaching the outside, they
revolved round the planet’s atmosphere at a distance of over a thousand
miles; these particles were coming from all parts of the planet,
eventually to become attracted to one or other of the belts on which
they settled. These belts were consequently slowly widening, though
they remained isolated and distinct by their own force of gravity and
repulsion and were visible to Earth, with an addition of but a few
inches in each century.

Passing between the belts nearest the equator, the _Regina_ became
involved in the conflicting forces of the revolving atmosphere and the
belts and for the space of a few seconds spun round at awful speed,
but all danger—if there really was any—passed as she became enveloped
in the atmosphere in which she, of course, ceased to spin as she
travelled along with it and the planet, seeming stationary but for the
slow descent. She was placed in equilibrium some thirty feet from the
ground, well out of reach of an assembled and excited throng and before
attempting to leave the ship the inmates decided to speak to the people
from the outer deck, lest they should not be friendly. They therefore
stepped outside, one at a time, in turn, but though their weight had
been adjusted, the air was extremely oppressive and it was with much
difficulty their voices penetrated the heavy atmosphere. In a few
minutes they had severe headaches and were obliged to retire into the
artificial air of the ship, in which they quickly revived.

Finding it impossible to hold converse with the Jovians either by word
of mouth or telepathy, Godfrey sketched a few grubs of various forms
on a piece of paper and dropped it amongst them, and they seemed to
understand by motioning that they would send something up.

“I told you you could not do without me!” he cried, simply delighted,
and lowering a thin line. “You see, my friendly triad, you’ll never
regret bringing me with you. I can manage these people splendidly—Oh,
Great Bona!” he ejaculated, aghast, in a tone that brought the rest to
the curved window, through which they looked below; “if they’re not
bringing a hippopotamus, or something like it! this is a species of
vertebrata with which I am unacquainted, and if it is a specimen of
their bugs, I shall, at any rate, be able to show my Earth-friends a
new and wonderful variety of Hemiptera, or Rhynchota, as we style them
now. Great Bona! here, triad! don’t stand staring at it—do something!
that line is no good; get out a steel rope, or else float it up; the
bug weighs two ton if he weighs a grain! If we’ve to bring a colony of
those things aboard, we shall have to sit outside. There’ll only be
room for three of them in all this blessed ship, if it’s emptied to the
shell;” and he energetically hauled up the thin cord while the others,
laughing heartily, lowered a steel line and hooked the end to the winch.

In the meantime the folk below had dragged the weird ‘grub’ to
the rope, which they wrapped round its body, but they were either
unaccustomed to the work or careless, for when the creature had been
hauled about half-way up, the rope slid to one end and he hung head
downwards wriggling.

“Just look at the silly folk!” exclaimed Godfrey, in disgust, busily
directing operations. “They can’t tie a wisp of rope round a thing like
that; it will wriggle out soon and break its neck—what are they running
away for?”

Scarcely had he spoken when the ‘grub’ fell, and the instant it touched
the ground, there was a terrific report, and several people who could
not get away in time lay killed.

“So that was their little present, was it!” continued Godfrey,
sarcastically. “They intended the thing to explode in here, did they?
we shall have to break the necks of the next lot to see if they’re
dangerous!” and disgusted Godfrey drew in the short length of rope
still dangling and cast it aside. Seeing his friends still looking
below in surprise he went on, “That’s a joke they’ll appreciate better
than we do, judging from the mess down there. Now, triad, what’s to be
done! I told you it was an idiotic scheme we were on with, and where
are my grubs? It strikes me they’re going to be big ones, if that thing
there is a young one. I brought dishes and incubators and what-not,
for grubs, for Rhynchota, and not vertebrata, they’re made for grubs,
so don’t blame me if they’re not big enough. If other things are the
size of that little grub they wanted to give us, the cocoons will have
to be done quick and be big, or we shall have to live a few hundred
years to get enough to weave a decent net, for we can only look after
one of these beasts at once. What is to be done? Unless Jovian bugs are
miraculous, that beast can no more make a cocoon than I can;” and he
looked so completely dismayed that his friends could not help laughing.

As Godfrey said, what was to be done? They could not understand the
people, nor the Jovians them, and after proposing several schemes,
and rejecting all as impracticable, they remembered that the Bonians
had said all planets except Earth were in communication with each
other, and it was known that in the old days the Venusians had told
the original inventors of the _Regina_ the same thing; therefore they
should be able to ‘wave’ to Mars, so they sent several preliminary
messages, asking if communication could be established, without
receiving any reply except from Earth, saying that communication was
already established; what did they mean? Then they ‘waved’ the same
messages to Bona, again to receive the same questioning reply from
Earth, to which all their messages went and to no other planet.

Pleased that they had not given any particulars of their mission,
they merely replied to Earth that they were on Jupiter and testing if
their apparatus would carry so far. They then decided to go back and
visit Mars, which was between Jupiter and Earth, so closing all up and
leaving the people below in wonderment, the _Regina_ rose till outside
the belts, when her course was headed for the planet Mars, to which she
shot with terrific speed.

The Martians, they knew, were very clever, perhaps the cleverest
inhabitants of the whole solar system. This, no doubt, came from
generations of scientific training, for they were in jeopardy;
they knew their ultimate fate and, with a commendable spirit of
determination to retard it as long as possible, rose to the occasion
and astonished more than one world with their powers of resource.

The planet is very small, and although it has many moons some are too
minute to be measured by Earth-means, appearing to Earthians as but
tiny spots, the largest not more than ten miles or so in diameter.

The air of Mars is becoming drier every year; less rain falls, less
snow forms, and as vegetation must have moisture it ever becomes more
and still more difficult for the Martians to preserve water, for though
the atmosphere is like that of Earth in its components it is much
clearer and drier. The doomed Martians, therefore, have to husband
every drop of water; they build reservoirs, lakes, and swamps, and cut
trenches and ditches at all angles and of enormous length, many of
them from one thousand to two thousand miles long and some many miles
wide. This gigantic scheme of canals is but a great national system of
irrigation. Snow forms at the poles during the long Martian winter, and
melts in the spring, when it is conducted to all portions of the planet
along these immense canals; this causes the vegetation to grow, and the
people on Earth see the fresh green growth on the belts and oases after
the snow has left the mountain tops. Other large tracts of country are
a dark red, whilst others, which are seen from Earth to change from
yellow to brown, are marshy land which change in colour according to
the quantity of water and moisture stored in them.

Notwithstanding all their care, the planet is doomed, and certain as
time will come a day when all the skill of skilled Mars will be unable
to procure enough water to keep anything alive, and one of the most
beautiful little worlds in creation will cease to support any life as
existing on it to-day. Time may change the Martians’ physical needs,
and they may adapt themselves to altering circumstances so as to be
able to live without moisture, as different beings, but from the trend
of existing conditions on Mars, life, as we know it, is doomed.

Knowing and appreciating this, the Martians are using every endeavour
to obtain a continuous supply of that which is even more necessary to
the existence of human beings than bread.

Being aware of the friendly relations that existed between the Martians
and the people of Bona, confined, of course, to telepathy, the
travellers had no hesitation in settling down on the planet, feeling
sure of a friendly welcome, especially as they knew that the Bonians
had telepathed the news and particulars of their visitors and the
wonderful ship, both to Mars and Jupiter, and from them the Martians
had learned much about Earth, and Great Britain in particular.

As the quartette entered the atmosphere of the planet, they again tried
to ‘wave’ and telepath without result, and it was only when they were
actually amongst the people that they could interchange thought, though
even then with great difficulty.

Alighting from the ship and making all secure, as was their custom,
they stepped forward to welcome and be welcomed by the friendly
Martians, who had assembled to the number of about thirty, accompanied
by the chief of the city in which the _Regina_ had settled.

Imagine their surprise, therefore, on being immediately surrounded and
suddenly made prisoners, and their property at once taken over by the
chief on behalf of the people. Powerless in such deep treachery they
were marched off to a prison to be put to death, whilst some dozen or
more scientists rushed to the ladder to enter the vessel. The first
to touch the ladder vanished into air before their eyes; so did the
second, then the third. By this time the others saw that the matter
was not quite the simple thing it appeared, and the next, determining
to be very cautious, stretched out his hand to grasp the rail of the
ladder, when, with a yell of agony, he saw his hand volatilised to
the wrist. In the suddenness of the pain he let fall an electric lamp
he was carrying in the other hand, and it rolled towards the foot of
the ladder, but when it came near, there was a crackling flash, and
that too was gone. The silent suddenness with which their comrades
had vanished proved too eerie for the Martian scientists, and they
conferred together, agreeing that the prisoners should not be executed
till they had explained the matter, when they should share the fate
of the Martians. A messenger was therefore despatched in great haste
to the captives, offering them their lives if they would explain the
secret of entrance and control of their ship, but this they refused
to do, and all four were taken to Maraban, the chief town of that
district, to be tried as Earth-spies.

The trial was a mere matter of form and all were found guilty; few knew
what the trial was about, but that was an unnecessary detail, so that
the prisoners were condemned to death. Dennis, Ross and Gilbert all
swore Godfrey knew nothing of the working of the ship and was there
merely as an entomologist, whilst he—resolutely determined not to part
from them—as firmly swore he knew all about it and was in reality the
chief expert on board.

Like the people of Earth, the Martians were influenced to a far greater
extent by the fabrication than by the truth, which latter they cast
aside altogether, preferring to believe Godfrey rather than his more
truthful companions, so that though as a race they were superior to
Earthians, they possessed the same characteristics in that they only
believed what suited their purpose, were it true or false. After a
little discussion the judges sentenced Godfrey to imprisonment for
life, during which he would have to do such work as was required of
him, they thinking that after his three friends had explained the
secrets, and had been executed, he would be at hand to solve any
difficulties which might crop up in the future, so he was led away
to prison, amidst general satisfaction. Saying nothing to him of the
fate they had decided upon for the three others, the judges sentenced
them to death, their execution to take place within three days, unless
they explained the working of their ship in the meantime, and if they
complied with this and explained everything so that the Martians
could navigate the vessel, they should not die, but remain prisoners
on Mars as long as they lived, their ship becoming the property of
the state; for the Martians had an idea that by its means they could
eventually settle on another planet when their own became too dry to
be comfortable. Even immediately many of the people could be sent to
Earth, and preferably England, which they knew from the accounts the
visitors had given to the Bonians for ages past had been foolish in
allowing herself to be the free dumping-ground for all the refuse
of other Earth-nations who liked to come, for though many questions
might be asked, they need not be answered, or could be answered very
indifferently by proxy.

In this way England had become overrun with an undesirable foreign
element, for in the height of her prosperity she gave all a welcome,
blind to the possibility that harm could come, and that though she held
the zenith of the world there might come a setting. Spain, Greece,
Russia, Turkey, and other powers had long sunk below the horizon, and
to oblivion, and already many of England’s foreign possessions had
passed to the stranger, for England had loved the perfumed air and the
lap of luxury too much to protest—till the power to protest was lost.
Her children had been pampered and pauperised till they expected all
things to come to them without effort, and rather than work for their
needs they bartered England’s honour for a downy bed; and the time had
come when other nations could do just as they liked, if it was done
pleasantly and insidiously and caused no inconvenience; so that the
Martians knew that England would be the best place in the whole solar
system to which the selfish could retire, leaving the weak and the
undesirables on their own planet to fight out their doom as best they
could.

The three condemned prisoners were isolated, but on asking permission
to talk the matter over together, the reasonable request was not
refused. They concocted a plan which was put into instant execution,
and the Martians were delighted when, a few hours later, the three
captives agreed to enter the vessel with several Martian scientists and
demonstrate its power, stipulating that their companion should be well
treated. This promise was readily given and they were well guarded and
brought near the vessel. Although all eyes were on them none saw what
they did, but they walked up the ladder safely and entered the ship,
followed by the three chosen scientists, and the door was closed.

Dennis asked the Martians to stand in a certain place, so that
they should have a clear view of all that was done; Ross, from the
switchboard, telepathed: “Notice this switch carefully, it controls
great force. I move it ever so little and—you are rigid, in a powerful
electric field, unable to move hand or limb.”

Whilst he was doing this, Dennis and Gilbert had insulated themselves
and quickly corded the three Martians like mummies, Ross protecting the
outside of the vessel as before, and then raising it from the ground
about fifty feet, the people below thinking it was merely a matter of
demonstration before their scientists. Then the current was broken
and the three men were carried to the window, when Dennis and Gilbert
lifted one up to throw him out. At sight of their companions bound
and helpless, the men below howled with rage and an electric pellet
struck the _Regina’s_ side close by Gilbert’s head, just as the man was
balanced on the frame. Stopping the figure from falling, he telepathed
that if any further hostility was shown, he would kill all three of
their captives. His determined manner had its effect and the man was
thrown out of the window, but instead of falling he floated about
unable to drop. This caused great consternation below, especially when
Dennis was seen, not carrying, but almost wafting Number Two out of the
window, where he also floated alongside his companion, and then their
gravity was altered and they gradually sank. While they were watching
these the third Martian, whom they were intending to retain as their
interpreter on Jupiter, and whom they had not bound very securely,
seeing the opening in the side through which anything could be let down
or drawn up, and that it had beside it a coil of flexible wire rope,
one end of which was permanently fastened, determined not to be thrown
outside and killed like his companions, as he thought, so he suddenly
flung aside the door, threw the coil outside, and himself slid down
the rope as it fell—all this happening so quickly that he reached the
ground before any one had realised what had happened.

With a cry to look out, Ross at once brought the rope in strong
galvanic circuit, hoping to hold the man before he let go, but though
the fish they wanted had escaped, they hooked another, for at sight
of the Martian climbing down the rope several had run to assist, and,
just as he let go, a soldier, one of the guard, took hold of the rope
to fling it aside, at the same time kicking away the coil on the ground
with his unshod foot, when he found himself held. Instinctively, to
save himself from falling, he grasped the rope with the other hand, and
both minds and feet were fast.

“Here’s luck, Ross!” shouted Dennis, “we’ve lost one and caught
another; float him up quick,” and Ross at the switch-board quickly
made him lighter and he was soon level with the doorway, when he was
drawn in and the door closed, he still fast to the rope with both hands
and feet. His gravity being restored, he lay on the floor perfectly
helpless, telepathing unutterable things to his three captors, at whom
he glared stolidly.

“We only want one man,” said Gilbert, “and he’ll do as well as any.”

“Yes,” assented Dennis, as he rolled the man over to see his face and
telepath: “We told your people we would take three men in here and
demonstrate the _Regina’s_ power—you make a fourth; now what have you
done with our friend?”

No answer.

“What have you done with our friend?” again telepathed Dennis, his face
set and hard.

Still no answer.

“Give him a bit more, Ross,” said Dennis, and a stronger current was
sent along the rope to which the man’s hands and feet were still
clinging, and the power of it made his wrists bend outwards and beads
of perspiration began to form on his forehead and trickle down his
face, but bravely he endured the torture and refused to tell where
Godfrey was imprisoned. Seeing this Dennis continued: “Give him more,
Ross; go on slowly till he tells or dies—one or the other.”

The man was now writhing in agony, his limbs twisted all shapes as the
muscles became unduly contracted, but still he would not give way. At
last nature could bear it no longer; he tried to speak, but his lips
were blue and motionless, and he made an effort to telepath. Slight as
the effort was, Dennis felt it and, holding up his hand, said, “He’s
done, Ross, stop it;” and the current being shut off the poor fellow
released the cord and tumbled into an inert, exhausted heap. They
revived him, then took him to one of the windows from which position
he telepathed the course, and they hovered over the prison. Lower and
lower they sank, and then the people saw the second demonstration of
great and hidden power, for the _Regina_ was slowly reducing the weight
of the prisons. The people below had, at the first sign of trouble,
telepathed for the Earthian to be specially guarded, and Godfrey had
been placed in an inner prison. This was a small square building with
high walls having only one door and no window, and though practically
impregnable, there was a strong guard completely encircling it.

The first intimation of the matter being serious came when the roofs
became so light that the walls could not retain them; they would not
be held down, and one after another, with a series of wobbling jerks
they tore away and floated off bodily, borne on the wind gently as
butterflies. On the removal of that of the central building, they saw
the inner guarded keep and Godfrey, who shouted up, “Good old chums! I
knew you’d do something, but I didn’t expect this. Oh!” he cried, as he
rose from the floor, “I’m coming up too, am I! well, I will, as you’re
so pressing. It will be a little practice for me against the time when
I become an angel. Steady!” as he collided gently with the top edge of
the wall, and in another second he was soaring like a lark up to the
_Regina_, waving his hands in farewell to the people below, telepathing
his “hearty good wishes” and regretting he could not “stay to supper!”

Resolved not to let their captive escape alive, the whole of the prison
guard below levelled their weapons at him, and scores of deadly pellets
came like a shower, but as they drew near his person, they also
became proportionately light and floated beside him, their force being
instantly spent; in consequence they were wafted harmlessly away on the
breeze.

A few seconds later he was inside the ship, when the de-atomising
current was instantly connected outside the whole casing, and not a
second too soon, for the military was now out. So well organised were
the soldiers, that scarcely had protection been secured than the ground
was alive with them, and the martial Martians were hurling a fusillade
of shells, containing electric shot, deadly liquids, corrosive and
explosive gases confined under enormous pressures, and many other
death-dealing missiles in a heavy shower, any one of which would have
blown the ship to atoms but for the electric invisible shield which
de-atomised everything hurled against it.

Right amongst the fighters swooped the _Regina_ like a terrible
avenging spirit.

“We’ll let them see what the old ship has in her, and pay them out for
their treachery,” said Gilbert, vindictively.

“Right, oh!” cried Godfrey, “serve them as you did me, and scatter them
to the four winds of heaven. Hallo!” he broke off to exclaim, catching
sight of the Martian who was lying full-length, white and motionless,
beside one of the windows. “Is he dead?”

“No,” replied Gilbert, “we had to use a little gentle persuasion before
he’d tell us where you were.”

“He’s not far off being dead, though!”

“Not very, but we couldn’t help it, and we want a man, so he’ll do.”

“He’s watching his folks, and the sight will make him respect us as
long as he lives. He can tell all we say, I believe, from his face.
Look outside!” said Dennis.

Never before had such a fight been witnessed by Earthians. As the
_Regina_ settled on the very arms that were projecting deadly missiles,
they became de-atomised into vapour and hundreds of the armed fighting
men flung themselves bodily on the ship to climb her, instantly to
disappear. Slowly she moved along, mowing down the army in battalions;
causing the flower of the Martian army to melt away like smoke.

From all directions fresh supplies of men and armaments came pouring
up like a flood. This time the _Regina_ ascended and sailed above
them, reducing their gravity till they rose about three feet above the
ground, where they floated about unstable as straw—a mass of raging,
impotent humanity, at the mercy of every breeze that blew.

“Let’s leave them at that,” said Ross, “they’ve only got it temporarily
this time, and the effect will wear off in a day or two.”

“Won’t they be able to touch the ground till then?” asked Godfrey,
concerned.

“No,” replied Gilbert; “they’ll get gradually heavier as the effect
wears off, but if they had got it strong, they would have remained like
that so long as they lived, or till we took it off again, and they
would have had to be weighted down.”

“It’s a pretty stiff lesson,” commented Godfrey, “but I think they
deserved it.”

“They’ll think twice before they act treacherously again,” said Dennis,
“and if they or any other people want to fight the _Regina_ she’s
ready.”

“I believe our captive does not relish the present aspect of affairs,”
remarked Godfrey, “see, he’s white to the very lips,” and they saw the
man pale with fear, brave as they knew him to be.

Godfrey went over to him and kneeling beside him asked, by telepathy,
if he understood their language, when he responded that he knew all
they were saying when they were thinking deeply of it, but when they
spoke lightly, without concentrated thought, he could understand
nothing. So Godfrey told him how sorry they were to have caused him
pain but it was unavoidable. “Cheer up, old fellow,” he continued, “we
are all friends here, and all we want of you is to act as interpreter
on Jupiter, for we can neither speak nor telepath with them. We’ll
bring you back as sound as a bell; I’ll teach you all about electricity
on the way, and you shall teach us your language and interpret for us,
so we shall neither be under any obligation. We are just off to Jupiter
again, and my friends here will wear a tunnel in the ether where we
keep going and coming, if we make the journey many more times. You’re
pleased? that’s good—it looks healthier,” and he offered the exhausted
man a reviving tablet.




                               CHAPTER VII

                           THE STORY OF A STAR


                                   “Methought I saw
              Life, swiftly treading over endless space.”
                                                    (+Hood.+)

Jupiter now lay before them as they pointed straight for his surface,
and the Martian warrior soon recovered sufficiently to walk to the
window and watch the great belted mass. His name was Werran, and he was
an expert general of high standing, much esteemed for his numerous acts
of bravery.

When he looked outside and beheld the countless worlds and planetoids
crossing and recrossing in various orbits he became lost in thought.
He had seen them through telescopes hundreds of times and knew their
courses, recognising many of the globes from their positions and
configurations, their distances and progress he also knew; but when he
saw them, as from a stationary ship, speeding towards and passing them
in a flash, the ship itself overtaking and passing with terrific speed
all those travelling in the same direction, he could scarcely realise
it. This, however, was nothing to what happened a few hours later.

From somewhere on their extreme right, discernible with the naked eye,
came a faint glow like a phosphorescence; going to the glasses it was
seen to be a ray of light from some distant star, seen on some floating
stratum of dense ether, the star itself unseen in the infinity of
space. Probably for millions of years the ray had been travelling at
a velocity of nearly 187,000 miles per second, and they could see it
far ahead travelling towards them, the light falling on the denser
strata of ether in its path in a broad, straight ray. Adjusting their
movements they drew nearer and nearer to this ray till they met and
entered it, when they saw strange things—scenes that were travelling
on the light beams, scenes that happened perhaps millions of years
before, when these particular light-beams left their source. It might
be the people had now ceased to exist, perhaps the world itself had now
no existence, and no place in creation as a world, but the marvellous
light-beams were carrying the record of a bygone time, on and on
throughout the universe, showing every world that crossed their path,
what things had been done at some infinitely remote portion of the
infinite universe in the far distant past.

Thus was the history of a whole world laid bare, too rapidly for the
sight to distinguish details, so the high-speed continuous photographic
apparatus was at once set in motion. As they shot into the light-ray,
with incalculable speed, it sped past them, and later they found
that the lenses of the instruments had given them miles and miles of
excellent pictures of the distant world, proving that it had been
formed physically like Earth, and that all the various periods of its
existence till the formation of man coincided exactly with those of
Earth, and as the ship entered into and obstructed the light-beams
there came the time when out of the darkness that was on the face of
the deep there appeared lurid lights of phosphorescence and exploding
gases, which became chemically united to form better and purer air and,
eventually, an atmosphere; then land appeared, though the azoic rocks
and land were incapable of supporting life and the world was small and
deadly. Then followed long periods in which various forms of animal
and vegetable life existed, each living its allotted time and dying,
its remains resting upon the ground, each epoch in its turn adding to
the size of the world and preparing it for the next form of life. First
of all came the molluscs, to which the world was principally given
over, for these sightless creatures needed no light; then came the
fishes, which disturbed and aërated the waters by their movements; then
came marine reptiles, and as the land became habitable, though soft,
these were followed by every variety of reptiles, and after these had
prepared the ground, all forms of animals except man; later came man
and all the animals suited to live with him, and as the races of men
progressed, their various actions of good and ill were imprinted.

For several days the voyagers travelled in this light-beam, unable even
with the powerful instruments to penetrate the distance to its source,
and at last they turned aside to resume their flight to Jupiter.

Eagerly running the films through the reproducer, they were almost
overwhelmed to see the wonderful sights being presented to them as in a
book. Although well known in theory, it seemed miraculous to prove by
actual sight that the light was carrying on its beams the whole history
of a world across the great infinity of space, unfolding it silently
and swiftly to all who had eyes to see.

“That was the most awesome sight I ever beheld!” said Ross, deeply
impressed.

“Had we gone forward,” said Godfrey, “we should have come to the world
itself and seen what lives the people are leading to-day. If the world
exists now!”

“Yes,” assented Gilbert, “but we might have gone on for years and then
not have come to the source of light,” and then he continued, laughing,
“if we get lost and can’t find Earth again, we can hunt up that beam
and eventually locate the world it came from! It is so like our own
that it would just suit us to settle on.”

With that began a general discussion on the probability of losing Earth
and the possibilities that would open out in that case, for in the
immensity of space where every point can be the centre of infinity,
direction seemed of no account. But there was little danger of such a
calamity, for so long as they did not travel beyond sight of the sun,
or some member of the solar system, they could always return and locate
themselves, for the movements of the planets were doubly clear to them
by actual sight and not as diagrams drawn on a flat surface.

Rapidly they approached the mighty Jupiter, looming before them like
a giant golden ball, and they all stood at the windows fascinated by
the glorious sight of one of the moons passing before him as a dark,
semi-opaque object with an iridescent border.

A few hours later the _Regina_ was again in the heavy atmosphere, and
Godfrey inquired, “What are you going to do with these people for the
trick they played us when we came before?”

“We will see,” replied Dennis. “If they are friendly now, we will be
friendly too and let bygones be bygones;” and Ross, whose turn it was
at the time to pilot the vessel, caused her to settle to within twenty
feet of the ground, and connected the protecting current to the outer
casing to prevent possible damage being done by the Jovians.

Of course they landed at a different part of the planet this time, and
below them the people came running up from all directions. These people
could not have been of the same constitution as the Terrestrians, for
considering that the specific gravity on the surface is more than
double that of Earth, the inhabitants might reasonably be expected to
be proportionately larger and heavier. Heavier they must have been,
but they were of the average Earth size and slighter in build.

They crowded below, gesticulating and talking volubly, but in the
ship their combined voices could not be distinguished by Werran, so
the current was switched off as the Jovians appeared friendly, and
Werran stepped outside and held up his hand for silence, which is a
sign understood on every planet, apparently. In a few seconds all was
quiet and in his commanding voice the interpreter asked them to give
him and his companions every assistance during their visit, at the same
time requesting to speak with the principal personage. Whether they
understood his language or the concentrated thought of it was difficult
to say, but at once the governor of the town approached under the
escort of an armed guard, and asked if the visitors were friendly—from
whence they came and for what purpose?

Werran gave the desired information, then, feeling his head beginning
to swim, he stepped inside the vessel and translated all that had
passed, he speaking in Martian language, as he had done from the start,
for soon after his forced imprisonment he had unthinkingly spoken in
his own tongue, forgetting his hosts were ignorant of it, whereas they
replied in English, equally oblivious of the fact that English was a
dead letter to their captive. This was not noticed till some time had
elapsed because, in his near presence, the serious thought accompanying
the words on both sides made the actual speech a mere matter of form,
so that they conversed with Werran in English, he speaking the Martian
tongue, though he alone was able to converse with the Jovians, either
by thought or language.

In the meantime, the Jovians were busily discussing the situation, and
whether it was that the people were different from those they had first
met, or that the presence of an interpreter gave an air of ‘quality’
to the expedition, the Jovians seemed disposed to give the travellers
every assistance. They appeared to know little about the grub asked
for and talked over the question with Werran at great length, till
all in the ship grew impatient. At last Werran came inside and said,
innocently, “They don’t seem to understand what grub it is you want, so
I have asked them to bring all the animals they have and you can take
your choice.”

“Oh, Great Bona!” gasped Godfrey, in dismay, while the others roared
with laughter. “There will be a Noah’s Ark soon! We shall have to stay
here for years to go through every variety of living thing on the face
of Jupiter!” and he sat down quite overcome, glaring round at the
laughter of his companions.

Werran could not understand it, but then he never could understand
laughter, for the Martians do not laugh. It seemed to him so strange
that the Earthians should crease their faces and make noises and hold
their sides when they were pleased. He kept his face perfectly serene
under the influence of both pleasure and pain, for it was considered
bad form on Mars to alter the expression in the slightest degree, no
matter what the circumstances. Consequently, he was amazed that his
companions—who seemed to him refined and educated—should occasionally
lose all self-control and give themselves up to peculiar contortions
of the features, often ending in tears and a holding of the sides. Nor
could he understand why they seemed nonplussed at his request to bring
out _all_ the animals. They had none on Mars, and his idea of what an
animal was seemed very vague.

“There’s nothing for it but waiting to see what they’ll bring us,” said
Ross, laughing.

In a few hours the Jovians brought some hundreds of animals, native to
the locality, but it was impossible for Godfrey to make a selection,
as not one of them bore any resemblance to Earth animals, and there
were no grubs or any form of caterpillar amongst them. They were of
all sizes, from that of a mouse to a mammoth, and of endless variety;
all seemed extremely friendly, looking trustfully at the strangers in
passing, and Godfrey averred he saw one of them deliberately wink at
him, but when the others looked, the creature’s eyes were filled rather
with sadness and reproach than with frivolity, though it seemed to
brighten up when Godfrey was charged with maligning it, but this might
have been fancy.

“There’s your Noah’s Ark, Godfrey, my boy,” said Dennis. “All the
varieties of animals in the kingdom are at your feet, take your choice,
only get a little one! that frisky one there would fill the saloon.”

“It’s all very well for you fellows to stand there and chaff,” replied
Godfrey, shortly. “It’s a great pity three great hulking fellows like
you cannot employ your time to better advantage! If these are specimens
of Jovian bugs we’d better get back home again, for there are no
apparatus here to deal with any of that lot.”

“Werran!” exclaimed Gilbert, laughing, “just ask them if they’ve any
nice little grubs to trot out for our friend here, there’s a good chap!
tell them these insects are too full-grown for him, and not the right
kind.”

Werran delivered the message, but the folks had done their best
and could do no more, so matters were at a dead-lock. In a fit of
desperation, Godfrey turned to Werran, saying, “We want a grub that
will stand fire, Werran, old chap. Ask them to burn the whole lot, and
then we’ll take those that live and thrive on it.”

The message was duly and seriously given, but the Jovians had no
sense of humour as propounded by Terrestrians, for they refused to
do anything more and seemed rather huffy at the ingratitude of their
visitors.

“You three are running this show,” said Godfrey, with an air of
disclaiming all connection with the business. “What are you going to
do? Take the lot, or none?”

“No! we’re letting you run it, old man! you know you said you could
manage the people splendidly,” remarked Ross, laughing, receiving a
glare from Godfrey as a reward for his too-ready memory.

“That’s just where we want your advice as an expert,” said Dennis,
banteringly. “We’d like to have the lot, so as to give you every
encouragement, but the ship won’t hold them;” then turning to Ross, he
asked, “_Had_ we come to _Jupiter?_ and what part of him did they say?
I forget.”

“Upon my word, I’ve completely forgotten!” said Ross.

“So have I!” chimed in Gilbert, laughing.

“Great Bona!” cried Godfrey, with a start, “you _are_ a brilliant
triad, I must say! you undertake two journeys, hundreds of millions of
miles, to say nothing of a war or two by the way, and the only address
you have is—‘a grub, Jupiter’—and Jupiter is about fourteen hundred
times larger than Earth. And I give up all my important work on Earth
to play dummy to three idiots! Let us go home again till you grow a
bit older! I’m surprised at you!” he continued, sarcastically. “I said
I should have to look after you, and upon my word you need it. If any
one had told me that you three scientists could come all this distance
and bring me with you, like a toy on a string, without knowing what you
want and where to find it, I’d have—eaten ’em. A grub on Jupiter! upon
my word, it does you great credit and I feel quite proud of you. A grub
on——” and Godfrey, following the example of his three companions, gave
way to long and uncontrollable laughter.

Their mirth so affected Werran, that after staring hard first at one,
then another, he found himself following their example, first smiling,
then laughing like his companions, which surprised him so much and was
withal so comforting that he continued to laugh long after the others
could laugh no more, but sat looking stolidly at one another with
tear-streaming faces. It thus fell to the lot of four Britons to have
the honour of causing the first Martian laugh.

“Can none of your fuzzled brains remember?” asked Godfrey, in gasps.

“Don’t! Godfrey,” begged Ross. “I can’t laugh any more; my sides ache
as if they were raw.”

“We shall have to spin round the planet’s surface till something
recalls the instructions,” said Dennis.

“Ay!” agreed Gilbert, and turning to Werran, said, “Will you tell those
folks down there, Werran, please, that we are much obliged—we did not
want to look at their stock for ourselves, but for a friend, and we’ll
call again!” and he stepped towards the switch-board as unconcernedly
as if he had been walking out of a shop.

Werran gave the message, though it is to be hoped he wrapped it up
rather more daintily, and a few minutes later they were wandering
over the surface of Jupiter in search of the forgotten locality. The
landscape that unfolded itself below them was as unlike Earth as it was
possible to be. There was a great deal of water, both salt and fresh,
but the strangest feature lay in the vegetation, for all the grass was
long, broad, and thick in the blade, and the trees had heavy, leathery
leaves covered with stiff, bristly hairs and as strong as the giant
cactus of Earth. The explorers were constantly stopping to collect
samples of this strange vegetation and specimens of the geology and
mineralogy of the planet, and to hold converse with various inhabitants.

Terrestrial history shows that in times past Earth had been given over
to engines, carriages, and cars, and trains running on rails which
lay upon the ground and bridges and entered tunnels in the hills,
and many of the beauty spots on Earth had been covered with these
unsightly lines and wires for transmitting electric current and sending
messages from place to place. All these things had long ago disappeared
and the Earth had been much improved thereby; but here, in certain
districts, were lines on which goods were sent, but what was the motive
power could not be seen, except that it was of enormous strength, for
when the force of the _Regina_ was directed to resist one of these
loads in order to test it, the dial registered a force of over one
thousand horse-power. There was an entire absence of pneumatic tubes
for transmitting luggage, but perhaps this unseen force and single
guide-line would be as effective as Earth-methods, or more so.

The Jovians spoke of Earth as “Gorok,” which to them signifies ‘small’;
Mars they call “Lazak,” or ‘ruby,’ because, as seen from the surface
of Jupiter through his atmosphere, Mars appears blood-red, which
recalls the fact that Jovian blood is colourless, and contains few red
corpuscles though rich in hæmoglobin and, consequently, possesses great
power of absorbing oxygen, the people, therefore, being healthy and
strong. Their own planet is named “Milak,” which signifies ‘beautiful
garden’; the sun they call “Kulik,” or ‘learned’; and it was noticed
that most of the proper names terminated with the explosive sound of k.

Suddenly, as they were flying over a village, Gilbert shouted, “Now
I remember! the Bonian told us we should get what we wanted beside a
mountain with a crater like a flat cross.”

“So he did!” agreed Ross, “he said the people would meet us there.”

“I remember it, too, now!” also assented Dennis.

“Do you really!” broke in Godfrey, ironically, “blessed memory! and is
this haven of rest at hand?”

“Yes!” replied Dennis, laughing, “it is close before us and we shall be
there in a minute!”

Slowly the vessel skimmed over a city, then a village, and then a few
straggling houses, and beside the crater of an extinct volcano lay a
long building having a roof of some glittering metal which was unknown
on Earth and which shone strangely in the peculiar light cast by two
differently coloured moons.

Coming to a stand above the building they saw many people gathering
together on the ground below, and Werran, as usual, spoke to them.
It was plain that they were expected, and after a brief conversation
Werran returned to tell them that they had at last reached their goal
and their difficulties were now at rest, for here, the only place on
the whole surface of Jupiter, were cultivated the germs which were
wafted on ether to Bona, the floral paradise of the solar system.

Godfrey was now a different being; all banter was put aside for the
nonce in the seriousness of the work he had undertaken, and full of
his subject, he kept Werran busy asking and translating innumerable
questions and answers relating to the life-history of the little
creature he had come to cultivate. He and Werran then landed and
entered the building, but the air was too oppressive for a long stay,
and after a matter of ten or fifteen minutes they were obliged to
return to the ship for recovery and rest, after which they resumed
their work, Werran becoming quite as interested in the small organisms
as Godfrey himself. This caused them to be constantly entering and
leaving the ship, and Godfrey soon enlisted the services of the three
others, so that before very long all five were working, each with
fixed duties, and matters progressed so well that Godfrey was in high
spirits. Fortunately, also, as the days wore on, they became more and
more accustomed to the air until they were able soon to remain in it
for several hours at a time, although, remembering the adventure in
Mars, the vessel was never left without one or other of the owners in
charge, well-disposed as the Jovians appeared.

In the garden of this place, called “Kulametik” was a strange beast,
like the one that had caused the death of so many of the Jovians, and,
on inquiry, they gained much information about this curious animal,
which made them feel sorry they had imputed wrong motives to the
natives they had met on their first visit.

They learned that the particular insect, the germs of which are sent
to Bona, is a variety of remarkable habit. Although living in distinct
colonies, they are symbiotic, and do not grow to perfection unless
there is a certain beast living near them. Such an instance is by no
means isolated, for there are, on Earth, many forms of bacilli, for
example, which, to arrive at perfect development, must be placed side
by side with amœbæ; if they are thus placed on culture-plates and both
fed, the samples taken from them for independent culture must also be
symbiotic, and contain both bacteria and amœbæ so that both may grow
together, if results are to be depended upon. For this purpose the
people at Kulametik imported an animal of enormous bulk from a distant
land called Carakulak, in which district alone it was bred.

On Jupiter there is only one language, which is spoken in all parts
of the planet, and telepathy is in universal use, consequently, when
the Bonians sent their message, all the people on Jupiter on the
same ‘waves’ disturbed by the Bonians received the same message. It
so happened that the people at Carakulak received the message, which
was the cause of their excitement when the _Regina_ settled in their
midst, for they had been expecting and hoping to see the ship which had
travelled so far in so short a time. Understanding what was wanted,
and knowing they sent the large animal to Kulametik for the same
purpose, they no doubt considered they were doing the Terrestrians a
kindness in presenting them with one of the beasts that were necessary
to the full development of the insects at the farm at Kulametik, where
the naturalists in charge would not have one to spare.

These great beasts were perfectly harmless, living or dead, provided
death came naturally, or in any other way than from a broken spine;
for when the spine was fractured, especially near the throat, there
came from the spinal cord or marrow, if exposed, an oozing which was
exceedingly volatile, and instantly became converted into a gas so
deadly as to cause immediate death to every living thing within a
radius of fifty feet of the carcass. When the natives saw the beast
slip through the rope and hang head downwards they feared it might slip
away altogether and break its weak and brittle neck; this explained why
they had run helter-skelter at the first sign of danger.

This great risk made the travellers dubious about taking so dangerous
a creature on board, lest it should inadvertently come to grief
against something, and end their careers suddenly whilst in space;
but it was found, fortunately, that the variety of grub that needed
the close presence of such a beast would not suit Earth, so they
felt considerably relieved. They stayed on Jupiter a little over a
month, during which time Godfrey gained all information possible with
regard to the life-history and culture of the strange and interesting
creatures, the rest of the party rendering valuable assistance. In a
special room which had been made out of what had originally been three
cabins, they fixed up apparatus and dishes and some strange boxes given
them by the people of Kulametik, in which colonies of over fourteen
million eggs or germs were coming forward. These would produce some
millions each in the course of a year or so, and when Godfrey felt
confident in proceeding with them and understood what to do in each
phase of their existence, the visitors took their leave, full of
gratitude to their kind hosts, and sailed away to Mars in order to
return the borrowed Martian. Werran was quite overcome at the parting,
as were they all, for in their close and friendly companionship and
their intimate association in the realms of space they had all become
like brothers. They tried to persuade him to stay with them, but his
friends and family were in Mars and he would not hear of them being
taken to Earth, which had not a very good reputation on the planet,
though many were anxious to risk going there, or indeed anywhere, to
escape the threatened doom, foolishly forgetting, as Werran had himself
strongly pointed out at the time of the attempted seizure of the
_Regina_, that the end could not come for many generations hence; the
present inhabitants were, themselves, in no immediate danger, and there
was certainly no necessity to be hysterical in the matter. He longed
to go back to his native country, nor could they blame him, for there
seems ingrained in the soul such an intense affinity with the land of
one’s birth, that however far one may be removed from it, and no matter
how happy one may be, there is felt such a strong yearning and love
for one’s native land as makes the return to it the subject of many a
longing heartache.

Treacherous as the Martians might appear in their fervent desire to
save their posterity when the chance seemed suddenly to be placed
before them, they were Werran’s own countrymen and Mars his native
soil, and nothing would induce him to leave it, and as the voyagers
sought out and hovered over the locality from which he had been
kidnapped, the natives again congregated in crowds. They still appeared
antagonistic, but bearing past experiences in mind they were not
aggressive, but stood sullenly watching the ship’s every movement as
Werran was gently floated down. Then the _Regina_ rose and over the
house where Werran lived a dark object was seen to fall and then rest.
A few seconds later there was a blinding flash, and, brilliant in the
glaring sunshine even, there shot downwards a powerful red light. Then
the _Regina_ soared upward like a giant bird, becoming smaller and
smaller till lost to view. Still the light poured down its powerful
ray, continuing to illumine Werran’s house for three days and nights,
and when this faded and finally went out in a series of fizzles and
splutters, still the metal cup, inverted like a mushroom, remained
perfectly poised, floating over the house as a further reminder to him
and his warlike compatriots of the _Regina_, although they needed no
souvenir to keep her memory green, for as long as doomed Mars holds
sensate beings, so long will the story of the _Regina_ figure in
Martian history.




                              CHAPTER VIII

                              A JOVIAN BUG


               “The wise and active conquer difficulties
                By daring to oppose them.”
                                              (+Rowe.+)

Having arrived at Derwent the four wanderers dedicated a few rooms at
Dennis’s house for use as a laboratory. By this means the project could
proceed without exciting notice and remark, for they wisely concluded
that it would be soon enough to let the public into the secret if and
when the experiments were successful and not before, so that in case
the venture did not bring the result anticipated they could laugh at
each other without the public joining in.

Accordingly Godfrey took up his quarters there, and arrangements were
set on foot for the immediate commencement of the cultivation of the
wonderful grub which they called by its Jovian name of “Gorokakak,”
signifying ‘small fire-eater.’

According to Linnæus, this strange creature would have been included in
the sub-order Homoptera in the order Hemiptera, or Rhynchota, and it
lives on plants as a parasite. This necessitated bringing from Jupiter
a quantity of the twigs and leaves on which it thrived; fortunately
the insect devoured both dead and living leaves, or the difficulty of
transplanting Jovian trees to terrestrial soil and keeping them alive
would have been almost insurmountable. Although they brought as many
leaves as they could, it was doubtful if they would have sufficient, as
the insects were exceedingly voracious, but if not they would be able
to return for a fresh supply.

These twigs were most peculiar in shape and form, being infested with
gall-gnarls, and having a hard, horny bark, rough and covered with
gleaming white spots about the size of a drop of water; the leaves were
long and fibrous, with long spines and serrated edges, from the points
of which projected numerous long, silky hairs of such scintillating
iridescence as to look as though spangled with mica or bright minerals,
each leaf seeming edged with long and magnificently jewelled lace
of charming colour. The leaf itself was blood-red like our Virginia
creeper in autumn, while the lace near the stem was a deep violet,
gradually and imperceptibly varying through all the gamut of browns,
greens, reds, purples and the like, to a rich and brilliant yellow at
the apex, and as these filaments were long, flexible, and in constant
motion, each leaf was a kaleidoscope of exquisite colour—a dream of
colour harmony.

To Earth-ideas, the appearance of these bushes and shrubs surpasses
all description, being a paradise, a heaven of beauty; every movement
of air causing the filaments to quiver and the light to strike on
different metallic surfaces, changing the whole scheme in the twinkling
of an eye. So delicate and fragile are the leaves that when holding one
between the thumb and fingers, however lightly, the mere pulsation of
the blood flowing through the hand is more than sufficient to keep the
whole curtain of coloured metallic fringe in a state of constant and
ravishing motion.

No such plants have ever before been seen or known on Earth, and in the
_Regina_ rooms of the ancient British Museum may be seen one of them,
perhaps the most wonderful of all the marvellous mineral and botanical
specimens collected during the ship’s travels in other worlds. A
‘botanical’ specimen it has been proved to be, yet when portions of the
bark, leaf, and silken hairs have been submitted to experts, they have
one and all declared them to be specimens of excellent metal-work of
some minerals at present unknown.

How reasonable is this conclusion may be gathered at the Museum
where, in the “A” room, in a large glass case, stands a complete
bush exactly as growing, and although it is labelled “Gorokakak tree
from Jupiter”—after the insect feeding upon it—many of the leading
metallurgists consider it a magnificent specimen of Jovian metal-work.
Strange to say, the leaf, living or dead, undergoes no change, and
the hairs will successfully withstand a very high temperature, but
are not entirely fireproof, for after sustaining long-continued heat,
eventually they blaze and burn quickly, then subside to a glow which
remains for a short time and becomes brilliantly white, with evolution
of dense smoke, and then they fall to powder, like magnesium-ribbon.

The life-history of the gorokakak is extremely interesting. First of
all there are the winged male and female, incapable of flying more
than a few inches, and both these male and female parents have sucking
mouth-organs which attach themselves to the undersides of the leaves.
After mating the male dies and the female spreads her wings over her
body like a shroud, and these becoming fast there by the interlocking
of a hook, or spine, on the inner side of each wing-tip, she flies no
more but, her mouth taking the nutriment from the leaf to which she is
attached for the short time she has to live, commences laying her eggs
on the underside of the leaf in circles of about a quarter of an inch
in diameter and about half an inch apart, in order to give them space
to develop, the sheltering leaf affording shade and protection from the
weather and enemies. Then she dies, and in the course of a few weeks
the ova develop into both males and females, but these have no sucking
and piercing mouth-organs, and being wingless, progress slowly towards
the stem of the plant, eating the leaf as they proceed, leaving but
the skeleton with the silken fibres or hairs attached. On reaching the
stem, each female, having selected her mate, lays two eggs, neither
more nor less, on the tender part of the bark, and these minute grubs,
which are always females, pierce their way under the bark where they
lie dormant for several months, when they emerge and crawl to the stems
and roots and lay parthenogenetic eggs, which form galls. These eggs
develop again into young females, which also lay parthenogenetic eggs,
forming more galls, and so on for ten parthenogenetic generations. All
this causes the roots and stems of the plant to become gnarled and
knotted and the leaves all skeleton. The eleventh of these generations
crawls to the leaves to devour the skeleton fibres and the long,
silken filaments, leaving nothing except the deformed and knotted
roots and stem-sticks. After the fibres and hairs have undergone
certain processes in the viscera, the insect spins a cocoon which it
covers with a hard, heat-resisting substance like mica, leaving open
a small hole at one end into which it creeps; then it exudes more
of the mica-like material and joins up the vacant space, spins more
silky substance to complete the cocoon under the outer coating, and,
after thus hermetically sealing itself in a heat-resisting capsule,
inside which is a beautifully soft cocoon, it prepares to undergo
its metamorphosis, which keeps it dormant for seven weeks, when of
the silk it has formed wings and other appendages. It then exudes
some colourless liquid which sinks to the bottom of the capsule and
dissolves it, when the winged male and female with which we started
appear, and the same life-history is repeated.

Godfrey left many of the cocoons undisturbed in order that the stock
should be kept up, the remainder being taken and made into threads,
which were again twisted into long strands and placed on rollers or
bobbins, and stored ready for weaving.

Prolific as the insects were, all this occupied a considerable time,
and over eighteen months passed before sufficient material was
obtained for the actual weaving to be commenced. In the meantime,
experiments had been conducted with the cocoons in all stages, and
it was found that the best results came from those taken about three
weeks after the sealing. These strands resisted all temperatures,
even that which volatilises steel; but again did a difficulty arise.
The strands were perfectly opaque, even to the intense brilliancy of
the sun, consequently, if woven so tightly as to present a close web
of fibres, though the object could be achieved by the production of
a heat-resisting material, it would be defeated in its attainment,
for nothing would be visible through the cloth. It would therefore
be necessary to have a net of sufficiently wide mesh to enable the
travellers to see plainly through it, yet not wide enough to admit heat.

This compelled a further long series of experiments in order to
ascertain how far the strands were effective outside their own
substance in certain temperatures. These experiments were the most
delicate and elaborate of all, for the heat of the sun is beyond
terrestrial calculation, all Earth-knowledge ending at the fact that
all metals known on Earth and many others undiscovered by science exist
there as thin vapour, and temperatures of metals become unregisterable
at their volatilisation. Allowance had therefore to be made for
temperatures thousands of times greater than the highest obtainable on
Earth, and even when this was done, the result might prove altogether
inadequate to the heat that would be encountered—a terrestrial
estimation of which could, at the best, be nothing more than a wild
guess.

It was ascertained by actual experiment that the strands were effective
in transmitting their properties of withstanding the passage of heat to
a considerable distance around their mass, and when cords a line thick
(one-twelfth of an inch) were placed half an inch apart, phosphorus and
other elements, which are self-igniting in a dry atmosphere, covered
with such a mesh received no added heat and remained unconsumed, though
the net was subjected to a temperature of over 3000° C.

The experiments were a brilliant success, and in order to make
assurance doubly sure and so avoid all risk of danger to themselves
and their ship, the friends had the net woven with fine strands in
so close a mesh that they could but dimly see through it when placed
before one of the vessel’s powerful search-lights. It was nearly two
years after their return from Jupiter before they were in a position to
commence the work of weaving, which was to be conducted under their own
supervision in a windowless building specially erected adjoining the
shed, and not till the web was finished could they let their object be
known. To all inquiries they had returned smiling and evasive answers.
It was guessed that something wonderful was afoot, or they would not
have remained busy yet closed up for two years. All kinds of rumours
were circulated, not the least of which was that something had gone
wrong with the _Regina_, and the owners, unable to use the vessel
again, had built another shed and were constructing a second ship,
making a mystery over it to cover their incompetency. Every movement
was closely watched and publicly reported; every time they went to
either of the sheds dozens of watching craft ‘waved’ the news to the
whole earth, and so great a nuisance did this become that the secret
workers built a covered way from one shed to the other. This privacy,
together with the knowledge that from the house to the new shed was an
underground passage, all in electrification, but added fuel to the
fire of public curiosity, and the four friends could not step outside
the buildings for their daily exercise, which they always took in
the grounds, without being besieged by correspondents from airships
overhead, who pressed for interviews in the hope of gleaning more
information than the little already known.

One evening all four were coming out of the shed, when the instant
Gilbert, who was first, got outside the door, a cable-tow with a
running noose was slipped round his neck and any attempt to retreat
would have been fatal. Whilst he was struggling with it to escape being
strangled, it fell across his shoulders when it was drawn tight and a
second later he was being hauled up into a powerful airship overhead.
So well had the noose been dropped and manipulated that his companions
were unaware he was being kidnapped till his body rose from the ground,
dragged upwards by means of an electric winch, as the powerful ship
set off at a tremendous speed. The people in the ship must have been
mad, or else have believed the rumours that the _Regina_ was a hopeless
wreck, to have attempted such a crime, but they soon became wiser,
for before they had gone a hundred miles the _Queen_ rose from her
shed like an awful Nemesis, with her search-lights full on, sweeping
the earth and sky in all quarters, then started in the direction
taken by the fugitive. In a few minutes the quarry flew round at a
dangerous speed towards the north, taking an upper plane where were
few ships, and soon saw that the _Regina_ had still some life in her.
Her attractive force was switched on gently and the airship suddenly
pulled up to a dead stand with a terrific shock which shot the driver
through his glass cage a distance of twenty yards ahead, when he fell
to the ground, giving an awful shriek and turning over and over in his
descent. Very gradually, so as to cause no further damage, the ship
was drawn to the _Regina_, the two mechanics in her white with fear,
and bringing Gilbert forward, they begged for mercy. Gilbert shouted
hurriedly, “Let them go! the owner is dead and these were but obeying
his instructions.”

“Come in, all three of you,” said Dennis, now on the outer deck, “leave
the ship, she’ll travel with us.”

All three entered and the two men were placed in what had been a
cabin for one of the crew, when the door was electrified, and with
the two prisoners and the fine prize in tow, the _Regina_ sailed back
to Derwent. Within fifteen minutes of the abduction they were over
the shed again, to find dozens of air-craft in various planes, and in
the gathering darkness could be seen the lights of scores of others
coming from all directions, drawn thither by the news. The four friends
decided to make an example of the offending craft as a public warning,
so the _Regina_ rose upwards, causing the captive to float below in the
full glare of her lights; the ship was then drawn to the _Regina_, the
outside of which was now put in de-atomising field, and just as a moth
rushes to the light and falls, so did this valuable but fated craft
hover in the glare for a moment, then rush towards the upper vessel,
instantly to fall in a shower of myriads of atoms which, sinking to
the ground in the beams of the search-lights, appeared like a sheet of
falling fire.

The two men were floated downwards and were free, for the vengeance was
complete; a little later the _Regina_ was housed and the government
notified of the accident, with full particulars.

This time the four left the shed, they were not molested by so much
as an inquiry. All the same, the incident, while filling every one
with a fear of taking strong measures with so powerful an adversary,
capable of such relentless and successful pursuit, did but whet the
general curiosity which now rose to fever-heat. ‘Wave’ messages and
other communications arrived every moment, far too numerous to be
dealt with, so all were treated with the same silence, one message only
in government code being sent all over the world intimating that at
present no information could be given.

That was all very well, but the public wanted to know what was afoot;
why the _Regina_, when in excellent condition and under perfect
control, was allowed to rest unused, and why so much secrecy; and
dozens of air-craft waited at various hailing distances, ready to flash
the news by ‘wave’ to their various centres directly anything was
discovered, by accident or design. Weeks passed, then months, yet not
a word the wiser was any one. At last, nearly three years after the
return from Jupiter, an announcement was made which almost caused the
hair of every scientist to stand on end, and set every thinking being
aghast with astonishment and incredulity. The message was short and to
the point; every wave apparatus received the words,—“The _Regina_ will
sail within ten days into the Sun.”




                               CHAPTER IX

                             TESTING THE WEB


                                  “Let’s keep them
                In desperate hope of understanding us.”
                                          (+Cartwright.+)

No bomb could have been more startling than the simple statement from
the _Regina_. Surely there must be some mistake, or the men were mad,
for who in their senses would think of going into the _sun!_ Various
instruments were compared but all gave the same word “sun.” Had the
adventurers been any other men they would probably have been derided,
but it was evidently a case of _non compos mentis_, and though to a
certain extent they could act as they pleased in all that concerned
themselves personally, in the interests of science they should not
be allowed to destroy the _Regina_ in attempting such an insane act
as that contemplated. No one could understand it. Mental aberration
occasionally plays tricks with the best, but surely such scientists
could not for a moment have overlooked the fact that the terrific heat
of the sun would shrivel up the ship and all she contained long before
they could approach his surface; and how could anything live—even the
_Regina_—in the sun’s atmosphere, which the merest child knew would
convert the ship, powerful as she was, into the most tenuous vapour.

So every one argued, from the highest to the lowest, and the government
was petitioned to prevent such an inevitable catastrophe, but the
government replied that they had no control whatever over the vessel,
and though the owners should be requested to abandon the scheme,
pressure could not be brought to bear on them, and again were the
conditions of the original deed printed and made public, and all could
see that even if the owners arranged to go elsewhere, they could still
go to the sun and no one could hinder them. As a matter of fact, the
government was afraid of doing anything to stop them; history had
recorded what the _Regina_ had accomplished in the past, and the grant
of perpetual protection was too serious lightly to be set aside.

The people then clamoured for Dennis and his companions to be
imprisoned for destroying the pirate airship and causing the death
of its owner, but again those in authority refused to move, merely
pointing out that the grant gave unlimited power to protect the vessel
in the best way possible, and so long as they used that power within
due limits, the law would and must uphold them. The man who was killed
had only himself to blame, and the owners, in reporting the occurrence,
which was proved to be a pure accident, had done all the law required.
Foiled at every turn, the populace became furious until the first flush
of excitement had passed, when they began to consider the matter more
calmly, and what had been anger gave place to an intense curiosity, for
they felt that some mysterious secret was withheld from them and that
the contemplated voyage must be possible.

This excitement grew as the days passed till folk spoke of very little
else, each greeting the other with the question whether any news had
been received, for all wanted to be the first to know and carry the
information with respect to the means by which the heat was to be
overcome, but these particulars were not to be divulged till the day
of starting, though in view of the great curiosity the owners sent a
‘wave’: “In four days we sail to the sun covered with a heat-resisting
net. _Regina_ in net will be on view before starting.”

This set all doubts at rest, but if anything it caused more excitement
than ever, and Derwent became the gathering-ground for all ships
that could make the journey. So great faith had the people in the
_Regina_ and her owners, that thousands of ‘wave’ messages were
forwarded from scientists and others all over the world asking for
the privilege of making one of the party. In vain did Dennis and his
friends ‘wave’ a refusal, saying they four only were going—applications
still came in, and the government suggested that in the interests of
science it would be well to take the presidents or other officials
of the chief societies, so that each in his own special line could
investigate the branch he represented, and by this means gain more
real knowledge on every subject than would be possible with four
only. This wise suggestion was gladly adopted and invitations given
to twenty representatives of all branches of science, who were to be
under rigid restrictions not to trespass. The decision was received
with great delight by the fortunate few, who made their arrangements
and hurried to Derwent with all speed. This influx of visitors made
it necessary to have a few attendants. While the four were alone,
they rather enjoyed being so, taking it in turns to attend to meals,
there being very little cooking necessary under the present system
of tablet and pilule form of food; and reliable mechanical servants,
dusters, etc., worked by motive power, rendered human help of any
kind superfluous. Up to the present no repairs had been needed in
the machinery or the vessel beyond easy adjustment _en route_, and
automatic cleaners kept the engines and all parts of the ship in a
condition bordering on newness. But easy as it was for the three
owners and Godfrey to regulate their work and actions to fall in with
these accurately timed automatic servants, as they are called, which,
when once started, perform their allotted duties with a regularity no
human being could emulate, they could not expect twenty visitors to be
entirely without some human attendants, for the work undertaken by each
would be exacting, both as regards time and energy, so two good men
were obtained and the original men’s quarters not already disposed of
were altered for them, and re-arrangements made in the ship so that all
requirements could be supplied automatically and instantly, far better
and more quickly than would have been possible by human agency, and a
movement of the zero switch closed everything, and returned everything.
Moreover, as in the original design of the ship, so now was every
cabin electrically connected with those of the owners, and contained
a secret sehen-microphone, telephone, and ‘wave’ apparatus, and, if
necessary, each cabin could be electrically closed should any occupant
have to be kept prisoner from any cause, in which case, though in
solitary confinement, he would still be able to enjoy the delights of
the table, the pleasures of books, a constant view outside, and other
comforts; also conversation, but with the owners only, who alone, by
means of the sehen-microphones, could make themselves acquainted with
his every movement by sound and sight, although such a contingency was
extremely unlikely to arise. The owners’ quarters and those portions of
the saloon and observatory containing the controlling-switches were so
protected as to render approach by any one except themselves impossible.

Probably the greatest stock required would be water, which, up to a
few centuries ago, had not been thought capable of more than slight
compression, but about that time some explorers entered an underground
city named the “City of Earth” and were shown by the governor,
Antistes,[A] how to compress water into the form of a cord, when, like
twine, it could be coiled into balls and stored for an indefinite
length of time if in air-tight cases. When a small piece of this
is cut off and subjected to the movement of friction, it rapidly
becomes liquid, a piece a few inches long providing several gallons
of distilled water. Thousands of these large balls were stocked so
that each person could have an abundant supply during the whole of the
voyage. This was not expected to be of longer duration than a year, or
two at the outside, but sufficient provisions were taken for a seven
years’ absence, so that if any unforeseen delay should occur there
would be ample food for all.

[Footnote A: “The Immortal Light.”]

These arrangements were soon finished, and in making the alterations
in the ship to accommodate so large a party and to provide the extra
working space required, the present owners followed the lead of the
original builders by employing each man on a portion only of one job,
leaving another to complete, they themselves fixing the necessary
secret connections and fittings after the men had prepared the way for
they knew not what.

The wisdom of this course soon became apparent, for before many days
had passed the workmen were waylaid and fêted, many of the highest in
the land thinking it not beneath their dignity to step from their high
estate to fraternise with the humblest workman, if by so doing a little
information could be obtained which would place them in possession of
some of the secrets of the _Regina’s_ power. Astonished almost beyond
measure at the sudden interest taken in their welfare, the humble,
honest workmen felt that the theory of equality had, at last, resolved
itself into definite practice, and that they were now being lifted
up into the higher station of their patrons and were fast becoming
compeers. Consequently, they, never suspecting duplicity—for what can
a mouse know of the patient wiles of a cat till too late—exerted their
utmost endeavours to please, and told all they knew with the frankness
and innocence characteristic of them, suddenly to find their innocence
become their undoing, for the patrons soon perceived that willing as
the workmen might be to supply information, they could neither give
nor suggest any reason for their work, and all led to confusion. The
blind led the blind, and both fell; the rich to withdraw; the honest,
well-meaning poor—who are, and will be, always with us—to return to
their own level, ignored and discourteously treated by those of the
higher grade who had just been so kind and friendly. This need not
have occasioned surprise, for an arrogant and insolent manner is the
prerogative of the well-to-do, and is useless to a poor man who has no
one poorer than himself to practise upon. It is only when the pocket
is well lined, and the conscience is seared almost to extinction by
countless corrosive stains, that one can afford to be oblivious to
everything except personal interests. A good maxim to follow is to

    “Be good and you’ll be happy.
       Another thing is sure,
     More certain than the happiness—
       Be good and you’ll be poor.”

This is probably why the poor, who have so little comfort here,
“inherit” the Kingdom of Heaven, but to the rich it is hard to find
entrance, which can only be gained by the loving, voluntary sacrifice
of everything, to give to the poor. This is a hard lesson, and more
often than not causes a denial and a clinging to the riches as they are
gripped all the closer—the poor remain poor and the rich hang the head,
for the moment sorrowing that the peace of the poor is refused them,
for they have great possessions.

All this but confirms the fact that though age succeeds age, human
nature remains unchanged, and the world wags on much in the old way.
“A man that flattereth his neighbour spreadeth a net for his feet”
is equally true to-day as it was in wise old Solomon’s time, and as
it will be always. In certain ways improvements take place, manners
and customs change along with changing circumstances, but deep down
“the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked,”
and self is ever uppermost. Education advances and with it general
knowledge increases, but this only gives a more or less thin veneer;
the hearts and lives of men remain the same, they still work for self
and ill-gotten gains, though as they rise in station and become more
‘educated,’ they become all the more dangerous, as they can obtain
their spoils more quietly and insidiously.

King Solomon seems to have had a varied experience which gave him an
intimate knowledge of most things, and he was never more correct than
when he said, “He that giveth to the rich shall surely come to want.”
And not from his own fault, but that the rich, having obtained all the
poor man has to give, cannot bear to think he may possibly say, with
apparent truth, that he has helped them, and given them such and such
things, so they persecute him who befriended them and bring him to
such a pass, that if ever he should be so indiscreet as to hint at any
obligation on their part, he would but draw to himself the ridicule
and unbelief of his hearers, and from the rich man, the good-humoured,
patronising smile of light amusement, as though the statement were too
ridiculously funny to be other than a joke; for is it within the bounds
of possibility to think that the mouse was believed when it returned to
its nest, and told to its loving, trusting friends the story of how it
alone had set free the mighty lion.

Although everything is now in the hands of the state, and there is
little need to be rich when there can be no open oppression, which is
one of the chief advantages accruing from riches, there are still the
old faults and vanities exposed by Solomon underlying every phase and
walk of life. The poorer serve the wealthy in the hope of being helped
to riches, losing sight of the fact that they would then be in little
better position, for in the semi-commonwealth of the present day the
rich man is, morally, no more wealthy than the poor, as he must spend
all his riches according to his position. All the same, beautiful as
is the present state of things in theory, in actual practice the same
envy, hatred, malice and all uncharitableness existing thousands of
years ago, still flourish in ghastly virility.

The workmen employed on the _Regina_ were, one after another, left by
the curious to go their own way totally disregarded, and they could not
understand it, for it never entered their guileless brains that they
had been opened like oysters and, like the empty shells, flung aside.

It was plain that nothing could be learned about the vessel but what
the owners permitted, and patience was a trying virtue to cultivate,
but at last the delay which the alterations had occasioned came to an
end, and the actual date of flight was fixed for the following Tuesday.
The first flight of the _Regina_ was altogether eclipsed by this, the
most important voyage of all. On the Monday, the city of Derwent was
again packed with people, and both on land and in the air business
began to be restricted, and before the day was out ceased altogether.
The following day crowds of people and ships assembled to see the
mysterious net; and punctually at half-past ten in the morning the
vessel rose out of her shed into the brilliant sunshine to be greeted
with roar after roar of enthusiastic applause. She floated clear of the
roof, then sank to within about twelve feet of the ground and there
remained stationary. Over all her surface was a wonderful covering
of network, fitting her shape exactly like a glove, woven without
a seam to fit the contour of the vessel; at every point where the
threads crossed, it was knotted, and the sun, glinting on these fine
projections, reflected sparks of brilliant light, making the shimmering
net appear as if studded with myriads of diamonds. The people went into
ecstasies of delight and wonder, and every one wanted to know all about
it. In response to the clamouring call, the three owners and Godfrey
emerged to give a demonstration of the wonderful properties of the net,
and on a platform specially erected, in full view of the assembled
throng, they performed many experiments with the heat-resisting
material, amongst which were fruitless attempts to ignite gunpowder,
cordite, and other explosives with heat and flame and blazing liquids,
none of which would pass the net in which the explosives were wrapped;
even a powerful oxyhydrogen blowpipe failed to ignite dry phosphorus
under the same conditions, and having successfully gone through dozens
of tests with all forms of materials and substances, there followed
a perfect furore of applause; for all in that vast assemblage were
sufficiently experienced in chemistry and physics to comprehend the
full import of the discovery, and what possibilities were open to
the owners now the question of heat—as the world knows it—had been
overcome. Whether the material would withstand the inconceivable heat
of the sun could only be ascertained by going there, and none were more
fully aware than those embarking that, severe and successful as the
tests had been, they might all meet their doom in the crucial test.

All at once Dennis called his three friends aside.

“You look excited, old chap,” said Ross. “What’s in the wind?”

“An idea has just struck me!” was the reply, his eyes shining.

“Ideas must be scarce to cause such a to-do!” remarked Godfrey. “You
look as excited as a schoolboy.”

“I am!” replied Dennis. “I believe we have made a still further
discovery and placed the _Regina_’s powers beyond all limit!”

Instantly all were alert as Dennis continued,—“Hitherto a great
drawback to our power came from the fact that we have always been
obliged to go steady through atmosphere, or the friction would
over-heat and destroy the ship; but if this network will withstand
friction as well as heat, we can go through atmospheres as quickly as
through vacuum and not be burned or warmed. Don’t you see——”

“Capital!” interrupted the others, enthusiastically.

“Let us try it,” suggested Godfrey, “shall we go round the Earth fast,
to see how she acts?”

“We must tell the folk what we are doing,” said Ross, “so that they can
time us,” so they returned to the vessel and ‘waved’ their intention to
all, explaining their reasons for putting the ship to this further test
by a rapid flight within the Earth’s atmosphere, saying that in fifteen
minutes’ time she would go round the Earth at a height of twenty miles,
pause for ten minutes, then encircle it again at a lower distance at
a considerably increased speed. Whilst they were entering and sealing
the vessel, the people were getting ready their instruments to time and
photograph the flight. Punctually to time, the _Regina_ rose and then
shot ahead, soon afterwards to be resting over the shed, when the net
was examined and found to be perfectly cold and uninjured.

Ten minutes later, she vanished towards the east and returned from the
west, almost before many of the watchers had realised she had gone, the
second circuit having been so quickly accomplished. Again were the net
and casing found to be of the same temperature as before the flight,
and the four travellers were again overwhelmed with congratulations.
Thousands of excellent photographs had been obtained from various
points on the light and dark sides of the Earth, those taken on the
shadow side showing little more than the ship’s brilliant lights, for
she had gone with all her lights full on; on each of those taken on the
illumined side, every detail of her wonderful covering was distinctly
seen to be undisturbed by the terrible rapidity of her flight.

“That was fine!” exclaimed Godfrey; “one just blinks and we are back!
it’s a splendid success.”

“We shall be able to go hundreds of times faster, if need be,” said
Dennis. “That was merely to try it.”

“But shall we always go through atmosphere at so terrific a speed?”
asked Godfrey, in surprise.

“No, not necessarily, though it is reassuring to know that no matter
what speed we have, we are not in danger, and there would be no reason
why we should alter for atmosphere unless we wished to land, or take
observations.”

“Let us get off then!” exclaimed Godfrey. “I am anxious to go and
so are we all. We are already an hour behind time. Shall I call the
passengers?”

The others agreeing, Godfrey very unceremoniously called up the twenty
impatient visitors who, along with the two attendants, mounted the
ladder and were soon safely aboard. The net was joined, doors were
closed, and amidst applause which rolled aloft like thunder, the ship
ascended, all the occupants going to the windows to watch the people
becoming smaller and smaller, suddenly to vanish as the ship increased
speed; and now they saw the rivers and seas like strips of hammered
silver; then all was lost in billowy clouds; then all was dark; below
them lay the Earth, a great ball, or disc of light, which became
smaller and smaller and was even now but the size of a marble, as the
_Regina_ shot onwards with terrific speed straight for the gigantic sun.




                                CHAPTER X

                             THE CONSPIRACY


        “Foul whisp’rings are abroad; unnatural deeds
         Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds
         To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.”
                                             (+Shakespeare.+)

Almost the first thing to excite comment amongst the visitors was the
appearance of the stars. On Earth stars are seen above and around,
as if the spectator were placed in the centre of a great ball, on
the inner side of which ball stars are seen, but owing to the Earth
intervening and cutting off all sight below the horizon, only the
upper half of the dome is visible. But here in space the stars were
above, around, and below; in every direction they shone brilliantly,
the _Regina_, notwithstanding her rapid movement, being always and at
all times the altering centre of a vast and ever-changing space, with
ever-changing objects, which appeared weird and awful when viewed in
the absence of an atmosphere through which everything in nature must
necessarily be seen from Earth, and which softens and beautifies by
its moisture and substance and clouds and refraction and dozens of
other blessings, or the inhabitants would be driven almost mad to see
the wonders of creation and the terrible sun, shorn of the Earth’s
beneficent veil of atmosphere.

Many of the passengers were appalled, and several intensely regretted
their misplaced enthusiasm. They had, all their lives, examined their
celestial globes from _without_, as they necessarily were obliged to
do, merely bearing in mind, in a casual sort of way, that the Earth
was really _within_, and instead of the dome of the heavens being
above, the Earth was itself the centre of limitless space. They nearly
lost their self-control and were driven to the verge of hysterics to
realise that the frail thing on which they stood was actually adrift in
immeasurable space, and only the All-seeing Eye could guide them back
to their own world.

As seen from Earth, stars are mere points of light, the rays from
which in passing to us become subject to various laws, and are also
not only refracted, but are affected by the density, humidity and
temperature of our atmosphere, coming to us as twinkling lights. Also
under the highest telescopic power stars show no appreciable size, and
are comparatively fixed in their places, forming such small points
in the heavens that their positions can be determined so correctly
that the measurements and movements of other stars and planets can be
recorded with almost certain accuracy, for keeping the same position
themselves with regard to Earth, they define clearly and unmistakably
the movements of our world.

A star being _one_ point of light, twinkles only, whilst planets,
moons, and the sun have so many points and rays of light, all
twinkling, that the combination of all the scintillating rays causes
a steady light which is quite distinct from the light of a star, the
magnitudes of which are classed according to their relative brightness,
the first half-dozen or so classes being visible to the naked eye, and
the next eighteen or more to the lens of a good telescope.

For many centuries it had been thought that the difference in the
brilliancy of the stars came from the fact that though they were
nearly all equally brilliant, their distances were so remote as more
or less to reduce their light, and that ether in space was entirely
transparent. The _Regina_, however, had been the cause of considerable
modification of these views by enabling many of the difficulties to
be removed by actual observation on the spot, when it was found that
certain parts of the ether of space were more or less opaque and
partially, and often entirely, obliterated certain of the stars by
intervening and absorbing some, or all, of their light; also that
many, if not all, of these semi-opaque webs of ether were in motion,
and sometimes this movement caused the more dense web to pass away
from between certain stars and Earth, and thus in the more transparent
space certain stars would appear brighter, and the new stars and moons
of planets would become visible; at the same time the opaque web of
ether having changed position, stars hitherto visible were blotted out
of sight from Earth. This accounted for many discoveries of new stars
and the loss of many previously observed, also for the periodic loss
and reappearance of others, for in certain cases the fog-like stratum
of ether was found to move in definite and periodic pulsations which
exposed one or more stars beyond, as the veil lifted, or fell, or moved
aside. Such stars may then have remained visible for years and would
again vanish as the stratum moved back, and in course of time, probably
anything from a few hours to thousands of years, it would again
expose the hidden star, which would appear and disappear in definite
cycles of time. Such stars are called “variables,” of which there
are considerably over a thousand, and others are being added as time
goes on; some have definite periods of visibility and invisibility,
and some change erratically, being seldom equal, all depending on the
size, movement and density of the particular semi-transparent web of
intervening ether, which, although appearing to be bound by no known
law, yet has a certain law of movement of its own, because it may be
timed and its passage anticipated with accuracy.

One of the chief of these periodical stars is Mira Ceti, the “wonderful
star,” which was visible from Earth when the travellers left, but in
a few days they passed through a great bank of dense, semi-opaque
ether, thousands of miles in thickness and extent. This was almost
imperceptible when they were in it, but as they had approached it had
appeared like a faint cloud, the mass of which was sufficient to hide
the star from Earth when intervening. The magnitude of Mira—in common
with that of all other such stars—varies according to the density
and opacity of the intervening stratum, undergoing many ‘wonderful’
changes. Its period is less than an Earth-year by about thirty-four
days, thus going through about twelve changes in eleven Earth-years,
or thereabouts. Its brightness, which is fiery red, causes it to be
classed in the second magnitude, in which it remains about fifteen
days, when it diminishes in brightness till, in about three months’
time, the full bulk of the bank of ether hides it altogether from the
naked eye, and only through powerful telescopes can it be seen for a
little under five months, when a more transparent portion of the web
of ether gradually pulsates before it. In the course of a little under
three months the belt has lifted, or become so thin as to be wholly
transparent, and the “wonderful star” comes into view again without
anything intervening. She has thus regained her original brilliancy
as a star of the second magnitude, and Mira has now gone through her
average changes, but even these are subject to much variation. The
movements of the ether follow a law at present unknown, to discover
which the _Regina_ would have been obliged to stay close at hand,
probably for years, which was scarcely advisable, so the scientists
left the definition of the law of ether-movement to some future
occasion, contenting themselves with the elucidation of the cause of
the variability of stars, and particularly of this “wonderful star,”
which has been the source of so much controversy and speculation since
its discovery in Cetus in 1596 by David Fabricius. It was also found
that the ether pulsated and moved in such a manner as to cause the star
to appear of varying brightness, and to alter its period to a longer
or shorter time—probably a matter of twenty to thirty days either way.
They, however, noticed that at the eleventh maximum of brilliancy,
which was then approaching, the star was completely exposed to view
from Earth, thus causing it to appear at that particular time far
brighter than when at its greatest brilliancy. It was seen far away,
shining steadily, but without the scintillating, fiery glow seen from
Earth, which, along with other characteristics peculiar to their unique
point of sight, caused much friendly discussion amongst the voyagers
as the ship sped onward direct for her goal—the star which warms,
illumines and governs all the planets and the thousands of planetoids
forming the solar system, binding them all together by such close
and common ties, as of relationship, that no shock or change of any
magnitude can take place in any one of them without affecting all the
others, however remote.

By this time the _Regina_ had travelled a little over twenty-seven
of the ninety-three millions of miles which separate the earth from
the sun, and consequently had arrived within the orbit of Venus. The
details of the visit the original owners had paid to this “Star of
Love” centuries before, were, of course, matters of history, well
known to every person on board; notwithstanding which, several of
the visitors wished to go out of their course to follow in the wake
of the planet, and land, and pressed Dennis to go there, but he
refused, saying they must travel direct to the sun and back, and in
this decision the rest of the party concurred, seeing that Venus was
at the opposite side of the sun to Earth and they would have to go
past the sun and then come back. Then for the first time dissension
arose, and amongst the few who wished to go to Venus were some of those
who first regretted having embarked. These openly expressed their
dissatisfaction, and endeavoured to inflame the fears of their more
courageous and peace-abiding companions by referring constantly to the
now awful-looking sun which, shorn of the protecting veil of Earth
atmosphere, glared with terrible power into the vessel, and contrasted
his malignancy with the benign, yet distant Venus, rolling onward in
stately movement. So effective were these constant comparisons that
before many days had passed other faint-hearts saw in the sun and its
slowly increasing and awful bulk a doom by the worst of deaths, and
they commenced to argue with all the owners in turn, that even if the
vessel could withstand the enormous heat and friction, she could not
possibly sustain the equally enormous pressure, but would be cracked
like a nut as she drew nearer, for a tiny jet of vapour on the sun
would strike with a force of thousands, perhaps millions of tons, and
shatter the ship like burnt paper.

“The vessel can withstand lightning and any other force,” said Dennis,
with conviction.

“Lightning, may be!” retorted Edgar Holt, who seemed to be regarded by
his friends as their spokesman, “but not solar energy. In lightning
you have direct electrical energy, and I will admit for argument your
sources of power to be greater than lightning, but solar energy is
infinitely stronger, and we shall be crushed.”

“Energy, solar or otherwise, is all the same to us; the energy
radiated from each square foot of the sun’s surface has been computed
at something like twelve thousand horse-power, but that is, of
course, only a guess, as must be all estimates. Now the secret of the
_Regina’s_ power lies in the fact that not only can we absorb any form
of opposing energy—be it gravity, heat, electricity, magnetism, or
what not—but oppose to it the same force increased a thousand-fold and
more, so that we can assure you there is no danger; we may safely enter
the sun’s atmosphere, and no matter what force opposes us, it will be
harmless.”

“It will not!” retorted Holt, in rude contradiction, “we shall be
annihilated!”

“Oakland is right, Holt,” broke in Ross, with some warmth; “and if not,
and we are burnt up, you knew the risks—why did you come if you were
not prepared to face them?”

“We were blinded with the glamour of the adventure, but that has worn
off and we cannot go!”

“You cannot go?” exclaimed Godfrey, who had heard all. “My most
estimable friends, you’ve got to go, you must go! unless you prefer
being put outside, and even then you’d go, for you’d follow us.”

“We do not intend going,” repeated Holt, quietly, but with evident
determination.

“You see that collection of spots over there, good people?” queried
Godfrey, sarcastically. “One of them is our world—I’ll be hanged if I
know which, and yet I’m here. I know no more about this ship than you
do, and it seems like tempting Providence even to hope that we can
ever find our own little speck of a planet again amongst the thousands
of others, which seem to me to be all alike, and yet I am perfectly
content—as are we all except you—to trust to Providence, the _Regina_,
and to the power the three owners have over her. Going to the sun we
are, and as we have been friendly so far, let us proceed and all work
together amicably for the general good. Believe me, we are sure to
return to Earth safe and sound. If we don’t—well—we don’t!”

This long and sensible speech of Godfrey’s, despite the cold comfort of
the climax, created an excellent impression, and caused several who
seemed wavering to side with the owners and remain true to the original
plan, but it was plain to see that the dissentients to the number of
eight were unconvinced, and it was equally evident that some plan,
known only to themselves, had been formed.

Fearing an attempt at mutiny, Dennis wisely professed to compromise
and suggested that the objectors should talk the matter over amongst
themselves in the far saloon, and the rest should do the same
where they now were, all meeting the following morning (_i.e._,
Earth-morning, for they kept Earth-time) so that they could settle the
matter amicably, if possible.

The eight went away as suggested, and after a short discussion, the
meeting terminated and work proceeded as before. In the meantime,
immediately the eight had left, Gilbert slipped into the sanctum and
set the sehen-microphones in recording motion, which, minute by minute,
recorded the mutineers’ every act and speech, how they had formulated a
plan to seize the ship, for as there were several eminent electricians
amongst them, they did not for a moment doubt their ability to work
her. They considered all the cautionary notices placed in various parts
of the vessel, forbidding further passage, to be but ‘bluff,’ merely
placed there to give an air of mystery to intensify the influence
of the owners, and it was absurd to think that if they transgressed
they would be held rigid, if not seriously injured. And all the time,
silently and secretly, the recorders reproduced their every word
with persistent and remorseless accuracy, working automatically by
electricity and independent of attention. Occasionally one or other of
the owners saw that the supply of films was ample, and so, hour after
hour, from the first suspicion of danger, each of the eight cabins
and the far saloon were kept in circuit, and waking or sleeping every
action of the eight suspects was recorded in indisputable evidence.
On turning in for the night, the owners took out some of the films,
and placing them on a reproducer in their private room heard the whole
scheme. Upon this, ascertaining that all the occupants were in their
berths, the doors of their cabins were electrically sealed, and the
friends retired to rest, keeping a four hours’ watch in turn, for they
had agreed that during the whole of the voyage, considering they were
not alone, at least one of them should always be in guarded territory.
The following morning, all met together as arranged, and Dennis—who
as chief and senior owner was deputed spokesman—requested the eight
mutineers to stand at one side of the saloon, and the rest at the
opposite side; he, with his two partners, being behind the barrier.

“My friends,” he began, addressing the friendly passengers, “before
going further into the matter we are discussing, I am sure you will be
interested to hear what these eight objectors have to say, in order
to come to a proper decision—No, Holt! it is not necessary for either
you or any of your party to speak yet,” he remarked, as Edgar Holt
stepped forward, “we have something here that will explain everything;”
saying which he motioned to his companions, and Ross and Gilbert, who
had brought out the recorder from the sanctum, set it working and the
machine spoke out loudly as the films travelled through it. For a
moment the offenders seemed struck dumb with amazement and when Holt
understood what was happening, he made a dart forward, instantly to
become rigid, for within a few feet of where the party stood the floor
had been electrified and he could not pass. As soon as the others saw
this and that all was going to be disclosed, they became furious, and
one, losing his self-control, pulled out a revolver which shot electric
pellets, but before he could use it, Gilbert, who had left Ross to the
machine, whilst he went to the switch-board to prepare for such an
emergency, instantly put the whole of that portion of the steel floor
in circuit with the roof, and the men, being between the two metallic
surfaces, were brought into electric field and became immovable. Still
the machine talked on, reproducing their very voices, tones, and
expressions, disclosing the whole scheme, clearly and exactly as when
the words were uttered, all that had been said and done, both when
in the saloon and in conversations together in the privacy of their
own cabins; even their breathings and talks during sleep were equally
distinct, as Ross put through such of the films taken by the various
instruments as would give a general idea of their proceedings and
plots. When these were finished Dennis resumed, “This is no time for
sentiment. You have heard their schemes as from their own lips, and
we should be justified in destroying them; with you all as witnesses,
the law would uphold our action in so doing, for they have not only
mutinied but attempted murder. We must not, however, take life except
in dire necessity, and yet these people cannot stay here. As they say
they do not intend going to the sun, they shall not do so. Last night
we went through most of the films you have just heard, and we decided
that these men should leave us, for their presence here would be a
constant source of danger and suspicion, and at the very least, they
would disturb that harmony which our association together renders
necessary to ensure a happy and successful voyage. At the same time,
we cannot land them on Venus, they are not good enough; so we have
arranged to seek, out of the numerous planetoids around us, one with
an atmosphere similar to that of our own world and leave them there
till we return, they running the risk of our not finding them; and you
will be witness to the wisdom of this course, for as they positively
refuse to go to the sun, we have no alternative but to yield. We shall,
therefore, provide them sufficient water and general provisions for
twelve months, and if we do not pick them up before then, they must
look after themselves, or die;” then turning to the mutineers, he
continued,—“You have heard your fate! you will now go to your cabins
and remain there as prisoners until such time as we find that for which
we shall search. We do not fear your arms, as by this time they will be
too hot for use, if not actually dangerous to yourselves;” and nodding
to Gilbert, he stepped back, and Gilbert switched off the current,
when Bosworth Keeth, who had his revolver poised, dropped it with a
cry of agony, for some of his skin was still sizzling on it, though
the pain had not been felt till the electric current was broken. His
companions, also, with cries of pain, hurriedly snatched revolvers from
their pockets and threw them down with burning fingers, as they were
scorching through their clothing to the skin.

In complete silence, cowed but malevolent, they then marched to
their respective cabins, instantly to find the metal doors strongly
magnetised to the frames and themselves prisoners, each in a
chilled-metal, drill-proof cabin, which, however, was warm and
luxurious.

Had any of the other passengers questioned the powers of the _Regina_,
or the determined characters of the three men in charge, the tragedy
just enacted must have set all doubts at rest. They one and all
approved the punishment following the conviction from the men’s own
lips, and the attempt at murder, which the others were evidently
prepared to follow up, seeing that all were armed, and they commended
the way in which the mutiny had been quelled at its inception, while
the few who had wavered now felt devoutly thankful they had decided
rightly.

The following day nothing occurred, and for two more days there was no
sign of anything likely to prove a suitable object on which to deposit
the mutineers, but on the fourth day they saw what happened to be a
wandering star, or planet, which was ahead, near Venus, and would be
between her and the sun, as seen from Earth at that time. This star
had a faint phosphorescent glow, showing through the spectrum flutings
of a peculiar purple; evidently a star which was cooling though not to
extinction and would therefore be easily distinguishable, and far out
of their course as this was, they decided to go to it. An examination
of a portion of its atmosphere proved it to be capable of supporting
Earth-life, whilst the gravitometer showed it to have a surface-gravity
only slightly exceeding that of Earth.

“We are not likely to find a world more suitable than this,” said
Gilbert. “Shall we dump them here?”

The others assenting, the two attendants got together the necessary
provisions and brought the men, each from his cabin. In the meantime,
the ship sank slowly through the clouds and hovered over water. Slowly
she roved, but everywhere was water broken only by rocky islands,
barren and fruitless, on which no food of any kind could be obtained,
so they sailed towards the other side, and as they approached the
further hemisphere, they saw the islands were by no means so numerous,
though larger, and were covered with vegetation, and well stocked with
animals.

At last they came to a great continent dotted with numerous cities,
and selecting one they descended to within fifty feet of the ground,
which caused numbers of people to collect. These seeming friendly,
the eight prisoners were brought forward, their weight regulated to
the weight of the air at that level and, some of them sullen and
revengeful, others frightened into pleading for mercy, they were all
floated outside and their weights gradually increased. So they slowly
sank down to the ground, each with his supply of provisions; then
seeing the men reach _terra firma_ and be received by the astonished
natives with demonstrations of warm welcome and friendliness, the net
of the vessel was joined again, the doors sealed, and the _Regina_
rose like an eagle. Getting a rebound from the gravity of the planet,
the good ship continued her course to the sun, her passengers, sure of
themselves and of each other, feeling more tranquil and comfortable
now that the only disturbing element and source of danger had been
removed from their midst, and they tried to dismiss the occurrence
from their minds by assiduous devotion to the object of their voyage,
which now lay before them like an awful furnace of molten fire. But
enthusiastic as they were and confident as they might be of safety,
they could not look ahead without feelings of awe and a nervous tremor.
The _Regina_ had travelled slowly in order that all should have time
and opportunity for astronomical and other observations, and although,
with a gravity similar to that of Earth and so powerful an objective as
the sun, she could have travelled the distance in a very short space
of time, the journey had occupied three weeks, and every one on board
had been intensely busy, some checking the Earth-measured distances
of stars by actual measurement in celestial survey, others from their
unique position in space noting the physical and chemical changes
and dispositions of the stars; taking moving photographs in colour;
testing and analysing the structure and movements of the ether-web;
the currents; passages of light; atoms, germs, meteoric stones and
other substances floating on, and passing through, the ether, and
scores of other phenomena hitherto impossible to deal with first hand:
all this was so engrossing that the hours and days appeared to slip
away ere they had well begun. Every one on board worked with feverish
application to add to his knowledge, each allowing himself merely the
amount of sleep actually necessary to maintain health in order that he
could—in his own line—gather as much information as possible for the
ultimate benefit of the people on Earth. Very quickly, as it seemed,
the time drew near when the sun was but a few million miles ahead, and
its gravity had just altered the position of their vessel. Instead of
the sun being _before_ them, they approaching bows first, their ship
had, as it were, stood on end and the sun was _below_ them, they being
still on an even keel, but instead of going _forward_, they now had
simply to sink to his surface, like descending on our own world from
the clouds. As soon as they perceived this change, they paused, making
the ship in equilibrium, and, over five million miles above him, rested
for final discussion and completion of arrangements.

Already they were encountering clouds of metallic dust, still red-hot,
being rapidly drawn to the sun again by their own gravity; and although
the intrepid travellers were intent on sinking to the actual furnace
raging below them, which now blotted out the whole of the lower
heavens, the sight of the awful mass of seething ‘something’ made all
quake, and the pause was generally welcome. At the same instant there
rang through the ship the soft, silvery sound of the electric tubular
bells, calling all to the saloon for a meeting, whilst each passenger
received a telepathic message stating the object. A few moments later
all were assembled and Dennis, as usual, being elected spokesman,
began, with considerable emotion,—

“Fellow-travellers, on the last occasion when we assembled here there
were, unfortunately, mutinous companions in our midst, but now we
all meet together in heart and mind one, and it may be for the last
time, for in that fearful heat below us—that heat which no human
mind has power to grasp or means of defining—we may be destroyed,
notwithstanding all our precautions; and at this sacred and solemn
moment we cannot do better than kneel and ask Him who keeps yon
furnace in its place, and dots limitless space with wondrous worlds, to
keep us safely also, and watch over us.”

All knelt, and he continued,—

“O Almighty and Eternal God! at Whose command worlds burst forth from
chaos and darkness to perfection, without Whom nothing is strong,
nothing is holy, we Thy unworthy servants humbly implore Thee to look
down upon us who are assembled in Thy Most Holy Name; and may we so
consider our present undertaking that we proceed not lightly in it,
or recede from it dishonourably, but pursue it steadfastly, ever
remembering that the object and intent of our journey is to learn
obedience to Thy sacred laws. Also grant to us Thy Truth, that Thou
being our Ruler and Guide we may so pass through things temporal as
finally not to lose the things eternal, and as Thou never failest
those who trust Thee, be now our Guide. For we know that our eternal
welfare is considered in every atom and law of the ineffable mysteries
of Creation, and that from all eternity, now and through endless time,
Thou art the Being from Whom all perfection springs.

“And bringing us safely through this solar fire, grant that we may use
the knowledge gained to Thy Glory. May it inspire us with the most
exalted idea of Thee, and lead us to the exercise of pure and solemn
piety and a greater reverence for the Universe and Thee, the Eternal
Maker and Ruler of it and of its life; the primordial source of all its
principles and the very spring and fountain of all its virtues. Amen.”

On rising, Dennis remained silent for a few moments and then, after a
few preliminary words on the danger which possibly threatened them, he
proceeded,—

“The diameter of the sun is supposed to be about 866,500 miles, as you
know; we will, of course, measure this and ascertain its accuracy. We
have been sailing in the curiously shaped corona for over five million
miles, in fact we entered the corona at a height of about twelve of
its diameters, or, roughly speaking, when we were ten million four
hundred thousand miles from its surface. And as you will see through
the darkened sun-screens, we are in the midst of the vast clouds and
flames lying over the solar atmosphere, and even here, sound-insulated
as we are, the noises of the explosions and collidings of the vast jets
of vapour which are hurtling around us on all sides are unpleasantly
evident. Thanks to our net, the shell of the vessel is not advanced
the fraction of a degree in temperature, and you will notice the
de-atomising force around the ship prevents any of the jets of fire
and vapour from touching us. From the fact that for some distance back
the flames and fiery vapour have played about us, and at this height
we are encountering vaporous metals at enormous pressure, we gain an
idea of what the force must be on the surface of the sun itself. And
my partners and I thought it a time for us all to consult together
as to the manner in which the observations shall be conducted.” Here
he paused, and Crawford Rollsborough, the chief astronomer on board,
asked,—

“So far, we are all right; but before we test the still greater dangers
below us, are you _certain_ the vessel is likely to be proof against
the terrific power of the vapours and forces there? for we had better
be sure before we leap.”

“We have every reason to believe so,” replied Dennis; “her resisting
or repulsive force is now about two thousand times less than she is
capable of projecting, and it is more than sufficient to withstand the
present forces and awful turbulence immediately outside.”

“But as we get lower and the forces increase?”

“So will our power to resist increase in equal ratio, and judging from
the needle here,” looking at the dial, “we shall then have in reserve
at least two thousand times more force than that being projected, so
that so far as power to resist is concerned, we have no fear: a danger
might arise if our de-atomising force, backed up by the net, would
not withstand the heat, but this we cannot tell without actual test,
although we feel sure there is nothing to fear.”

“Would not the net alone answer?” inquired Price Rowland, a physicist.

“Certainly it would, but without the protecting force, it would itself
be for weeks and months in actual contact with baths of liquid fire,
explosive vapours and gases, many of which may be corrosive to its
substance; and there are elements to encounter of which we Earth-folk
do not understand the nature, and consequently could not test before
we left; so by projecting the de-atomising force to, say, a distance
of one or two feet beyond the vessel, the net is protected from every
danger, and will, we hope, see us through safely.”

“But the pressure?” said Raymond Sorrel, the geologist. “Will not that
be difficult to overcome below?”

“No, it should not be. All forces should be de-atomised, and whether
they take the form of pressure, expansion, or heat in solid, liquid,
or gaseous form, or any other force, all should be pulled up at our
current, which is self-adjusting and is always more than enough to
dispel anything brought or projected near it.”

“Then you think we can safely approach the surface?” questioned Merrick
Rutherford, a metallurgist.

“Without doubt. You see the large needle over your head; it is still as
if welded where it stands; the fearful thunders and explosions round us
and the rushing of flaming vapours under enormous pressure, are turned
aside by us and go round, causing not so much as a tremor. The needle
shows us absolutely motionless, moving only with the sun, so that I
feel sure we can reach his surface unharmed.”

“Will the windows sustain the pressure?” asked Sorrel, again.

“Yes, both heat and pressure,” replied Dennis, reassuringly. “No
one nowadays knows how the glass was made, but it is unbreakable,
uncutable, and neither heat nor anything we know affects it except
fluorine, and it is covered with the net, as you see, like the casing.”

“But when we sink through this corona, and through these flames and
the atmosphere, and reach the photosphere, what shall we do then? go
through that?” asked Rollsborough.

“Yes, if possible, and see what lies below!”

“But suppose below the photosphere there is nothing but molten
fire—liquid chaos; what then?”

“Go through that to the other side and see what it is.”

“Could we do that!” exclaimed several, jumping up in excitement.

“Certainly, if you wish it!”

“But if we sank to the centre, should we not be fixed there?” asked
Kirkby Reeve, a zoologist.

“Certainly not; we should become heavier as we descended till we
reached the interior, from which we should repel ourselves and come out
at the other side on a straight line. Anyway, we will risk it if you
are willing. So far, no one, even with the most powerful glasses, has
ever penetrated the photosphere, so we cannot say what is below, but it
would be interesting to discover.”

“But is not the project of going _through_ the sun an impossibility?”
objected Rowland. “The ship, when resting on the ground in the shed,
did not de-atomise the ground below her, and how could she sink
through the sun’s mass—solid or liquid—unless that mass were in part
de-atomised? if not, she would crush herself.”

“That is so,” replied Dennis; “when in the shed and when resting on
land, there was no real line of current under the ship, but the force
surrounding her was so placed that nothing, however small, could come
upwards under any part of the vessel without entering into electric
field, and causing the current to fly from each side to itself, and the
intruding object would be destroyed long before contact. This is the
ship’s safety, as it precludes all risk of danger through tunnelling.
When going through the sun—if we decide to do so—we should, in that
case, connect the current below us and be completely enveloped in it
as we are now, and as we always are when there is danger, such as
hovering over formidable foes, and any matter through which we wished
to sink would become de-atomised, and we should sink through it as
through water. We should use this power to give a temporary and local
alteration only, so that the instant our force had passed, and _as_
it passed, the power would be lost, and the objects, solid or liquid,
would resume their former condition—it would be equivalent to passing
through solids without altering their substances and compactness, and
on this point there is nothing we are likely to encounter but what the
forces of the ship will take without being taxed.”

“Gentlemen!” cried Rollsborough, standing up and turning slightly
to face his companions, “to my thinking there is no obstacle to the
accomplishment of our purpose; it seems as if we could go through the
sun as easily as not, and I, personally, would dearly like to see of
what it really is composed, and as the owners have placed the decision
with us, are you willing to risk your lives in this manner as the
owners risk the ship, for the cause of science? Are you——”

He got no further, for he was interrupted by shouts of “Aye” and
applause which drowned all words, leaving no doubt of the unanimity of
opinion.

The conversation then became general, drifting to the _modus operandi_
of conducting the observations and examinations, and for several hours
the voyagers discussed the subject in detail, deciding to examine the
corona in which they rested; to sink into the atmosphere, testing,
photographing, and analysing as they proceeded, and measuring its
depth in various places. Then to settle down to the photosphere and
travel round the sun in or over this, take all measurements, find its
composition, its physical and chemical properties, its spots, granules,
and, in short, settle beyond dispute every detail at present doubtful
or unknown, and verify all now accepted as fact.

After this the _Regina_ was to sink through the photosphere, be it
gaseous, molten elements, or what not, and risk annihilation by
penetrating to its heart to find its inner structure, coming out, in
all probability, on the other side. Not a soul on board flinched at the
possible danger of a horrible death, not one doubted the powers of the
_Regina_ or the skill of the men controlling her, to whose hands they
had gladly entrusted their lives. Heroes, and possibly martyrs, in the
cause of science, facing death itself and that in its most awful form
on the mere chance of adding a little more scientific knowledge to that
already possessed which, great as it might seem, was less than a mere
drop in the vast ocean of the unknown. Grey-headed men, many of them,
they anticipated the perilous venture with the same keen enthusiasm
with which a youth anticipates his play, and the details being settled,
they were impatient to proceed.

Accordingly, the _Regina_ was made slowly to sink, perhaps her last
descent, and as she gently settled down like a falling leaf in a
motionless air, the occupants became completely absorbed in their
work, which had been so arranged that each one took such items and
branches as would collectively cover every phase and detail on which
information was necessary or desirable, and so they slowly but surely
approached nearer and ever nearer the glorious but annihilating
Mystery, defying the Death that was lurking there with sharpened scythe.




                               CHAPTER XI

                         “THE IMPREGNABLE ROCK”


  “He hath made the earth by His power, He hath established the
  world by His wisdom, and hath stretched out the heavens by His
  discretion.”
                                            (+Jeremiah.+)

Godfrey was a kind of gentleman visitor, free to work or not as he
chose. His work had been done in being the means of providing the
net, and he was enjoying a well-earned repose after the assiduous
toil of the past two years. At the same time he could not be idle and
had insisted on taking his share of work, to which he devoted himself
with all his energies, and after some hours of close application he
found himself with a little time to spare and was strolling about
promiscuously, glancing at anything and everything, when he came upon
the chief geologist, Raymond Sorrel, who was looking out of a window
intently watching the ‘flames’ which were shooting past them with a
terrific roar and, knowing he was always ready to talk on his pet
subject, and was never so happy as when he had a good listener who
would not interrupt, Godfrey thought he could not do better than spend
an hour or so with the great man whose knowledge was so profound, and
obtain some information on certain subjects about which he had thought
very little, so he sauntered up and casually remarked, “I fear most of
my bacilli would get frizzled in that furnace, Sorrel.”

“Without doubt, Spenser!” responded Sorrel, smiling. “I do not suppose
you ever thought to rear fire-proof-spinning insects, any more than I
imagined it would ever be my good fortune to come to the sun—even now I
can scarcely realise it!”

“I am ashamed to say I am almost ignorant of astronomical matters and
everything else except my grubs and electricity—my _métier_ is _really_
electricity, but fate placed me amongst grubs, so I suppose I shall be
with them as long as I live, and they’ll be with me after, unless we
get cremated here—and until I made my first voyage for the Jovian bug
with my friends, I scarcely knew one star from another.”

“We cannot be everything,” replied Sorrel, laughing. “I knew little
about natural history till you explained to me the habits of those most
interesting creatures to which we owe our presence here and our safety
from that!” and he pointed outside.

“What an awful sight it is!” said Godfrey. “It makes one realise what a
wonderful and holy thing creation is.”

“Indeed it does! and the Bible, despite the attacks made on it, still
stands true in its references to science.”

“Really!” responded Godfrey; “it seems to be a growing belief that the
Bible story of creation is merely fanciful; very poetic, but untenable
when faced with scientific research.”

“You mean that science and theology are at variance?”

“Certainly!” replied Godfrey; “such is the acknowledged belief
nowadays.”

“Then don’t you believe it, Spenser. Poetical the story may be, with
apparent slight contradictions in places, which are mostly different
writers’ ideas of things, but the broad teaching and general truths
are actually proved by scientific fact to be founded on a rock, and
impregnable. Science confirms the truth of the Bible, and in like
manner the Bible proves scientific facts to be facts.”

“But take the story of creation, for instance,” persisted Godfrey;
“science cannot surely support the Bible-sequence of the events in the
creation.”

“Why not? To me it does.”

“Because if the story is to be believed, the earth had light and
darkness, day and night, long before the sun and moon were created, and
yet we depend on both for light.”

“Certainly, but what about the luminiferous ether, which can both
convey and absorb healthy light, the _ignis fatuus_, and other
well-known chemical phenomena which could give a form of light (though
not healthy to us, but man was not then created), for ages before the
formation of the sun, and the sun was certainly created long after our
Earth because it is younger, being yet in its infancy, notwithstanding
the old belief which is held even now by many eminent scientists,
that the sun is the parent of the whole of the solar system. Besides,
Spenser, if you give this matter but a moment’s thought, you will see
how untenable is the argument that light emanates _only_ from the sun,
for there are seen certain stars which are not suns and, so far as
we can see, these have no ruling suns; if they had, our lenses would
show them; but granted they have, the suns, to be out of reach of our
glasses, must be so far away that their light could not reach these
particular stars visible to us, which ought, therefore, to be dark and
invisible. And if it had reached them and illumined them, the chances
are the time is so long past that these suns do not now exist, and we
see but the light of a bygone time, which no doubt in many instances is
the case.

“Again, to bring the argument nearer home, to our own system,
Mercury is nearest the sun, at a distance of but 36 million miles,
or thereabouts, and in order of distance follow Venus, Earth, Mars,
Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune, etc., the most distant measured
being Neptune at 2794 million miles away—there are many others of
equal bulk further off still, but these will answer my purpose;—now
if the planets, and the stars that are not suns _cannot_ give their
own light, what lights them? And again, if these members of our system
are _entirely_ dependent on this governing sun for every particle of
their light, it would naturally follow that Mercury, being nearest the
sun, would be brightest, and then the others in proportion to their
distance; but we have the second star, Venus, as the brightest star
in the whole system; the next brightest is not Earth, as we should
expect (for we saw in coming that Mars, who is distant from the sun
over half as far again as is Earth, was considerably brighter than
Earth), but Jupiter, the _fifth_ in point of distance; yet Jupiter,
from a scientific and theoretical point of view, can only receive about
twenty-five or twenty-six times _less_ light from the sun than do we
on Earth; Saturn over eighty times less, Uranus a shade over a three
hundred and sixtieth part, and Neptune barely a one-thousandth part of
Earth-light and -heat!

“Many theories have been propounded to account for this, the most
popular being that the differences in lighting are merely those of
atmosphere. That, however, will not bear argument, because modern
science has proved positively what has been for ages asserted—that we
can live on Mars and Venus, and so far as atmosphere goes we could
live on Mercury; yet if the argument is to stand we should be burnt
up on Venus and roasted alive on Mercury, which is so near the great
heat of the sun that it should itself be a star, a subsidiary red-hot
sun. To carry the same argument further, we ought not to be able to
see Neptune at all, considering his great distance and the little
light he receives from our sun, for if he depended on that alone, he
would be quite invisible to us. And to take it still further, to the
planets discovered far beyond the orbit of Neptune and yet undoubtedly
belonging to our system: how did they get there? and why were they
not noticed, as belonging to our system, before the nineteenth to
twenty-first centuries. If flung from our sun ages before, they would
have wrecked the whole system, being great masses of energising matter,
and at their enormous distances they cannot possibly receive any
appreciable light from the sun, which will be but a star to them. Yet
we can see them plainly, when by the very argument brought forward, of
the sun being sole light-giver, they should be black and altogether
invisible. No, Spenser, they must have been attracted and are now kept
within the sun’s mighty influence by his power, but receive not his
light.

“Many other theories, besides those relating to the atmosphere, have
been brought forward to account for various degrees of illumination of
our own planets and of other heavenly bodies, but none are satisfactory
except the one admitting that each world, star, planet, comet, or other
heavenly body is, to a great extent, self-luminous; be it solid, hot or
cold, watery, vaporous, molten, or of any other substance.

“Now, to prove to you how true is the story of creation as related
in the Bible, let us take the version step by step and see how it
harmonises with, or refutes, known scientific facts, for I want to
convince you that the Bible, in its scientific statements, will repel
any attacks on its veracity.”

“Well, I have an open mind on the subject, Sorrel,” replied Godfrey;
“it seems to me that it is not irrelevant to discuss these most
interesting matters under the present circumstances.”

Sorrel then resumed,—

“At the first chapter in the Bible we have ‘In the beginning God
created the heaven and the earth,’ at a period in the dim past, some
millions of years ago, when perhaps, from a primary ‘something’ there
was formed a world which gradually solidified, and there came a time
when the azoic rocks were established; this was, roughly speaking,
about 49,600 feet below the present surface of the Earth, and in these,
as the name implies, exists no trace of organic life. At this time
‘the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face
of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters,’
causing to spring into being molluscs without sight, and very low forms
of phytozoa and radiata, the fossils of which are found in the next
bed above these azoic rocks, the bed being about 16,600 feet thick, or
about 33,000 feet below the present surface. Of these shells, limestone
and other substances necessary to later periods were made, and during
the countless ages that passed whilst this great deposit, designated
the Cambrian Period, was being formed, darkness brooded over the
waters, as the Spirit of God caused these low forms of life to spring
into existence and to die, in order that their remains might prepare
the Earth for further races. Then ‘God said, Let there be light: and
there was light,’ and in the waters there came a new race of beings
with eyes—which had not been necessary previously—trilobites, and many
other strange and wonderful creatures.

“Then the Bible goes on to say ‘And God saw the light, that it
was good,’ and so it was, for it was life-giving, and was also
accomplishing His purpose. ‘And God divided the light from the
darkness. And God called the light Day and the darkness he called
Night’—and for the first time there was ‘evening and morning.’ As
yet there was no mention of a sun; the earth _itself_ had become
light-giving, and day dawned and faded into night without any solar
aid, for over all the earth there were thick and impenetrable mists
which excluded all exterior light, if any existed, and precluded all
life save that which was capable of existing in water, and necessarily
of the most lowly form. Then we find a further development, for after
these ages had passed, the Creator commences a new phase—‘And God
said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it
divide the waters from the waters,’ and at His creative fiat the damp
and heavy mists arose and, taking the form of clouds, floated upwards.
‘And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under
the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it
was so’—and from that time humid clouds began to separate from the
watery world, and between the two there lay a depth of atmospheric
space stirred by life-giving winds, the open air and winds cleansing
and purifying the seas, and then there followed the call into being of
creatures which required air for existence.”

“And is all this your own theory, or based on proof?” interrupted
Godfrey.

“Absolute proof, Spenser! indisputable proof from actual fossils and
the geological structure of the earth.”

As Godfrey remained silent, Sorrel continued his story,—“In course of
time there then followed the appearance of dry land above the waters,
for the capillary action of the atmosphere between the water and
the clouds reduced the quantity of water and the absorption of the
under-land would do the same, whilst in many places the moisture would
reach the internal heat and volcanic eruptions would occur; these would
also be brought about by the gradual gathering of gases and in many
other ways, and the earth, by its upheavals, would be disturbed and
tilted upwards and so give the seas and oceans limits which they could
not pass, thus dividing land from water, this being what is known as
the Devonian period.

“After these had all done their work, and insects had formed islands
and the ground had become adapted for growth, God said, ‘Let the
earth bring forth grass, the herb _yielding_ seed, and the fruit-tree
_yielding_ fruit after his kind, _whose seed is in itself_, upon the
earth: and it was so.’ This, to my mind, Spenser, is a direct Creation,
not evolution—a creation of everything first, and _then_ evolution, and
varieties caused by adaptations to surroundings.”

“It quite agrees with what I have proved in my researches in natural
history,” observed Godfrey, “for I have found that each species of
animals keeps to itself, and the different species never, under any
circumstances, mix in their natural state. For instance, the wild ass
will never mate with the zebra, or the zebra with the horse; it is only
under the influence of man that these race-distinctions are diverted,
and, given the first creation, there follows natural adaptation,
selection, and variety, in the same species according to surroundings
in consequent succession.”

“Just so,” assented Sorrel. “The first vegetable creation, according
to scripture, is ‘the herb yielding seed’—or seed-pod—‘and the
fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself’—so
that ever afterwards the fruit of the tree produces its own seed and
no further ‘creation’ is necessary, it being from that time a question
of repetition and evolution. ‘And it was so,’ for vegetation became
luxuriant in the extreme, from which reason that period is called the
Carboniferous era.

“In due time all this wealth of vegetation cleared the atmosphere and
brightened the clouds, and when the time was ripe, there followed
the next scheme which, as in the case of all the other phases, came
slowly, without any line of demarcation, one period being gradually and
imperceptibly blended with the next. So that the succeeding phase, the
creation of the starry firmament, would also come about slowly; the
luxuriant vegetation would clear the sky, and the stars beyond would
become visible in consequence. This creation of the stars, therefore,
can only mean that those already existing became _visible_ for the
first time through the gradually clearing sky—for it is not tenable
to suppose, even for a moment, that all the stars and celestial bodies
were created for _our_ special benefit; the benefit of pleasure or
instruction of the few people on earth who seriously study the science
of astronomy, considering that myriads of these stars are millions of
years older than Earth is now. Of course, seeing that man was not yet
created, this influx of light could only be for the immediate benefit
of the animals and vegetation then existing, in order that the world
might be prepared for the succeeding life of all forms, and there comes
another wonderful creation which may have been sudden. A sun is formed
and begins to shine on the Earth, and the moon Luna, probably being
already there—for she is older than the Earth, or, at any rate, older
in her life—but dark, that is, merely luminous like some of the stars,
receives the full blaze of the sunlight also, and our Earth, from
its position, is illumined by the reflecting moon. And God made ‘the
greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night:
he made the stars also’—thus came the completion, or the formation, of
many of the stars, some of which might probably mean certain of our own
planets, considering that several are younger than Earth, or possibly
some of the actual stars or suns of other systems.

“Then commenced another epoch in Earth-history, and one, if anything,
even more wonderful than those previous. For ages there had been light,
but only the light which every world gives out from itself, as in the
case of certain stars which are not suns and on which no sun ever
shines, yet which are seen shining by their own light and lighting
other worlds, as they do Earth to a great extent, quite apart from the
light of our sun and moons, as I have already explained in detail. But
the rays of the newly created sun warmed and penetrated the sombre haze
which had hitherto surrounded the Earth, till at last all opposition
was destroyed and the vivifying rays and heat reached the ground,
warming land, water and air, and causing more violent circulation of
the atmosphere, and making certain portions of varying temperature.
The winds, therefore, became fresher and stronger, and the sun ever
after became the visible and physical ruler of Earth and all the other
planets which were, or had been, drawn within his force of energy.

“This is, of course, taking my belief that the sun was made _after_
the Earth, which belief I base on excellent and irrefutable grounds,
though it is contrary to the opinion held by many great scientists,
as I before remarked. You will see how strong is the basis of my
theory from the fact that the Earth is proved to be certainly not less
than one hundred and thirty million years old by the fossils on it,
its structure, and the progress of its life, and even the greatest
estimation of the age of the sun, as a sun, is that it _cannot_ be more
than fifteen and a half million years. How is it possible, then, for
the Earth to have come from the sun’s mass, either in the solid or in
any other form?

“Then followed the creative word—‘Let the waters bring forth abundantly
the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the
earth in the open firmament of heaven,’ and the Reptile Age was formed,
when sea-animals, reptiles and winged saurians existed.

“Then came the Tertiary period, the age of mammoths, with all kinds of
animals _except man_. The fossils of these are found at a depth of from
two hundred to two thousand feet below the present surface. Many noted
scientists positively assert that there lived at this period human
beings of a very primitive type, and say the order given in the Bible
is out of place, but I cannot agree with them, for no remains of man
have ever been found to exist with these, and it is but reasonable to
suppose that considering his bones are of similar substance to those of
other animals and of fishes, _his_ remains could not have completely
vanished while theirs have been left to fossilise. As a matter of
fact, no _human_ fossils, bones, implements, or indeed any other human
relics are, or ever have been, found lower than two hundred feet below
the present surface. The argument, therefore, is entirely in favour of
the Bible sequence of events—for man to be uncreated at this period.

“But after all these (to man) harmful creatures had died off, their
places in the ordinary course being taken by others more suited to
the quieter time, and over which man could have rule, _then_, and not
before, was man created and given dominion over every living and moving
thing—which brings us to the present era, when man, as a race, has for
a time power to subdue the whole of the vegetable and animal creation,
and according to the manner in which the privilege is used, so will
posterity and the future of the world suffer, or benefit.”

“Then you believe the Bible story absolutely as written?” said Godfrey,
much impressed.

“How can I do otherwise, when I can only prove its correctness, search
as I may to find it faulty?” replied Sorrel, with fervour. “I do
believe the story most assuredly, as certainly as I believe that this
sun will be peopled in time as Earth is now.”

“You really believe that, Sorrel!” asked Godfrey. “Tell me how, for I
have never considered the question of creation in so serious an aspect
before. If these changes come gradually, what causes them?”

“The Creator, Spenser,” replied Sorrel, reverently, “by first of all
creating a certain law which, by means of cause and effect, works
itself out _ad infinitum_. Without going over the ground again, I will
tell you how from every effect giving rise to a later effect, the
Creator’s Wonderful Will and Power are worked out. Take this sun; in
time the mass will cool to such an extent that the internal heat will
not burst through it, and a crust will form; as this becomes thicker,
it will, on the outside, turn from white to black till it is almost
cold. This coolness will cause these heavy, hot vapours above to
condense and the ground will be covered with water, making it a watery
world. The heavy, black, grit-laden clouds above will cause general
darkness. Then will come a repetition of the creation of Earth, with
which I will not trouble you again in its Biblical sense—the clouds
will clear by precipitating their solid matter on the water, where it
will sink, to form muddy ooze and the like at the bed. This deposit
will lighten the clouds and there will be light—the light of a star
unlit by a sun. In time, all the solid matter will have left the clouds
which, relieved of their weight, will rise and an atmosphere will form
below them, and, being in circulation, will cause winds which, in turn,
will disperse the deadly gases and cause the water to have motion,
which will purify it, and in the mud molluscs will grow, and the deadly
gases above will be destroyed by combining, some with air, others
with water, and others with land, so that there will be a healthy,
breathable atmosphere through which the stars will be seen, and period
follows period as I have just stated, till this present sun has become
another world, even like Earth.”

“And what about the present solar system,—where will it be then?”

“Probably revolving round some other sun. There would be a time, long
in the past, when each of the planets was in some other part of the
universe, each as a sun, the centre of its own system, but as time
passed, and the violent energy gave place to the cooler and quieter
energy of inhabited worlds, some other world, expending its new-formed
energy in visible heat, by a coalescence with one or more others,
became this present sun, and, powerful in its youthful and terrible
energy, which was more assertive than that of any of the planets near,
drew them within the circle of its influence, and itself became the
centre and ruler round which these planets must revolve until such
times as its energy has no longer the power to retain them, when the
next strongest will take up the tale and probably cause new suns and
moons to form.”

“How could a sun form,—by impact?”

“Yes, but I think that scarcely likely, for I have often experimented
with motes in a sunbeam. If these are agitated in vacuum, they rise and
fall and float around but never collide. At least I have never been
able to cause any to do so; many draw near to each other, but long
before they get sufficiently near to touch, they fly off horizontally
and fall. So long as they float in space they will not collide; only
is it possible for them to do so when they reach the fixed point to
which they have been drawn. The motes will rest upon one another when
they have reached the lowest part to which gravity has drawn them, but
so long as they are above that part, I cannot cause them to collide,
no matter to what agitation they are subjected. They float and dart
here and there in the sunbeam as separate units—stars if you like—each
avoiding contact with its neighbour, though the sizes are unequal.”

“Then how could a sun form? I could understand the worlds separating if
all the forces are equal, for in that case one would repel the other,
but if they cannot collide, how can they form a sun by coalescence?”

“Though two worlds could not collide accidentally in space, one could
draw the other to its own surface, if powerful enough to do so, the
impact causing such heat as to liquefy both.”

“Is not that the same thing as colliding in space?” asked Godfrey,
dubiously. “I must confess I see no difference.”

“No, not at all,” said Sorrel, smiling, “I will illustrate the point
by a simple experiment I have often used to prove this very question to
my own satisfaction.

“If you take two revolvers exactly alike, firing the old-fashioned lead
bullets, and so place and fix them that when fired their respective
bullets will traverse the same line exactly, at the end of which is an
iron-plate target, and arrange for them to be fired simultaneously,
one would be inclined to think that the instant the bullet has left
the end of the one barrel, it will strike and coalesce with that from
the other barrel and travel along the same line as a single globule
of molten lead, striking the target as one, for only one splash will
be seen. If now, the experiment is repeated and arrangements made by
which the bullet shall be photographed during the whole of its flight,
you will find that both bullets leave simultaneously and approach
each other instantly, but instead of colliding, they then _separate_,
and travel together to the target side by side, but the instant they
reach the iron plate—a mere breath before impact on it—they coalesce,
and the actual impact on the plate takes place as one drop composed
of two bullets _already_ united, their union causing them to expend
their energy in coalescence into a single globule of liquid lead. If
you now increase or diminish the distance by placing the plate further
back, or drawing it nearer, the result is the same. The bullets will
not coalesce till the actual destination is reached, but will repel
one another from the straight line till that time, though they are but
a breath apart—from which we may infer that heavenly bodies cannot
collide, but must be drawn definitely and irresistibly by some more
powerful agency to the actual surface of another world before a union
is possible, like a comet flying into the sun.”

“In the case of the bullet experiment,” said Godfrey, “if one followed
the other, the latter at greater speed, it would overtake and absorb
the former?”

“Naturally, for its energy would be the greater.”

“And if one went immediately behind the other, almost touching, I
suppose there would be two impacts on the target; one would not hasten
or retard the other?”

“There would be a slight influence, but not an appreciable one; there
would be two impacts on the plate, in rapid succession, the first,
naturally, striking the plate before that which followed.”

“Are there other ways in which suns could be formed, without the energy
called into being by the shock of contact?”

“Certainly, there are many ways; perhaps the quickest and most
effective to Earth-minds would be the sudden withdrawal from the
atmosphere of, say, our world, our own Earth, of every trace of
nitrogen. The air then being all oxygen, without any nitrogen to
restrain it, would cause the whole world to catch fire; as the Bible
says, ‘The elements shall melt with fervent heat; the earth also, and
the works that are therein, shall be burned up’; everything would
instantly catch fire; the water, seas, rocks, earth, and sky would
become a molten mass of liquid fire—a fresh sun, full of the terrible
energy of its own combustion; and in our blazing atmosphere and flaming
clouds the people on other worlds would see exactly the same awful
combustion as we are watching now. And our Earth, formed into a new
sun, would probably still revolve round this sun, if his greater bulk
and attraction had not then diminished, and would itself be the centre
of a new system by reason of its energy attracting other planets, and
causing them to form a new orbit round it.

“Such an inevitable result would follow the simple withdrawal from
Earth of such a deadly gas as nitrogen, which by a loving Creator
has been made to temper its exactly opposite energising gas, oxygen,
the addition of but one-fifth of which, as you know, is sufficient
to turn the death-dealing four-fifths of nitrogen into our glorious,
life-sustaining atmosphere, that is, of course, eliminating the small
quantity of argon present (which is rather less than 1 per cent. of
the atmosphere’s volume) and the carbon di-oxide and aqueous vapour.
There is thus but a breath between life and an awful, agonising, though
rapid, death.”

Godfrey, deeply impressed, stood musing and looking out into the
flaming sea around them, when just as he turned to Sorrel to ask
a question, there was heard a report in the laboratory, and crash
after crash followed in swift succession as something hard could be
heard striking the metallic walls there, and then came the sound of
shattering glass.




                               CHAPTER XII

                   THROUGH FIRE AND FLAME AND MYSTERY


                            “I stand like one
        Has lost his way, and no man near him to inquire it of.”
                                       (+Sir Robert Howard.+)

Instantly everybody rushed to the laboratory, to find that though no
one was injured much damage had been done to the apparatus, and on
inquiry it transpired that Gilbert had prepared to obtain a sample of
the outer air for analysis, and knowing that the pressure must be so
much greater—inconceivably greater—than Earth-minds could estimate, he
had provided a specially thick box, sheeted and clamped with strong
steel, and had placed this over the net-covered valve, specially
designed for such purposes, when, the instant the valve was opened,
the accident occurred. Whether it was the enormous pressure outside,
or the composition of the outer air which burst the box, could not be
told, but it had been blown to little pieces and the air was filled
with dry and acrid fumes, some of which were collected for examination.
By a miracle Gilbert was unhurt, and he picked up several pieces of the
broken box and handed them round. So great had been the pressure and so
fierce the heat that in the momentary opening and closing of the valve,
the vapour collected in that short time had completely destroyed what
had been deemed a fireproof casing and fused the steel shell almost
through before the explosion, which Gilbert said was instant. Although
there were more of these boxes, it was decided that for their general
safety they would sample no more outer air, for the present, at least.

The gas which had been collected was soon found to have been metals in
tenuous vapour, and now carbon and metallic dust in very fine division.
It seemed most remarkable that although only a small quantity of vapour
had entered, there should be so great a residue of this dust, for
almost everything in the room was covered with the fine, impalpable
powder. On analysis, this powder was proved to contain many of the
metallic and other elements found on Earth and others at present
unknown; all the deposit was carefully collected and stored in sealed
jars for more searching analysis later.

In the meantime, observations showed the ‘corona’ to consist of clouds
which were similar to terrestrial clouds, but most delicately coloured
in tone and hue and ever changing, being driven about by the constant
explosions and gaseous projections from the furnace beneath, these
projections being of such appalling force that times without number
a mere pencil of gas would rise with lightning speed for several
millions of miles and strike the surface of an enormous cloud, miles
in extent and depth, and this cloud, which they proved to contain fine
particles of hitherto vaporous carbon of a rosy tint, would turn to a
dazzling white in the twinkling of an eye, and the whole cloud would
sometimes be reheated so fiercely as to become vaporous and rise bodily
for millions of miles, till it became so cooled as to be more dense,
when it sank again; at other times, or in other places, such a cloud
would be disintegrated completely, dropping in miles of fire, which
the glasses or spectrum showed to consist of minute metallic dust, now
separated and falling in a white-hot shower, soon to be converted into
vapour, proving most of the clouds to be, as it were, but bags of
gas sufficiently buoyant to hold the metals in suspension at enormous
heights till burst by ignition, or rendered more rarefied, when the
heavier and more refractory elements, such as carbon, were free to
fall by their own gravity. These clouds were of exquisite colour of
extraordinary variety, according to the degree of heat of the particles
contained in their mass and the colour which was reflected from the
lower strata of similar clouds, the moving, terrible ‘flames’ roaring
round them with repeated flashes of gleaming white, as some terrific
explosion below burst all flames and clouds asunder, and allowed the
fearful lurid heat of the photosphere to be reflected directly upwards
through the atmosphere.

This turbulence was incessant, and as they slowly sank and the hours
passed, the awful grandeur made the necessary sleep seem almost a waste
of time, for every mile they descended brought fresh wonders which it
was felt almost a crime to miss. Frequently, as they were leaving to
retire to their cabins, the spectacular display around them would be
so amazing, that tired as they were, they would remain at the windows
entranced, as perhaps a gigantic flame would mount higher and higher,
licking a cloud like a huge tongue, and at the touch, the sea of cloud
would be blown to ribbons which stretched in all directions, waving
about in the terrible reek in millions of ragged tendrils, which darted
away till lost in the distant flames, their long, tape-like feelers in
constant motion as the heat twisted them, like a giant octopus being
roasted alive and writhing in agony. For hours this would continue,
till the watchers would turn away, reluctant to leave it, and seek
their long-desired rest, impatient that nature had made it necessary
for Earth-life to take systematic and regular repose. At other times
the clouds would burst and disgorge their contents in floods of fire,
awful to contemplate as they poured downwards like water, making broad
bands of flame connecting the two strata—the rolling sea of cloud-fire
above with that of the furnace beneath.

This is, without doubt, what is seen from Earth and there discussed as
“stems, which, though they appear thin and pencilled, are of enormous
substance, connect the clouds with the chromosphere,” and which are
seen to last sometimes for several days, so great is the quantity
disgorged.

In addition to these the travellers saw the eruptive portions known on
Earth as ‘flames,’ which were not only ruptured and changed from the
gases below, but themselves became eruptive, causing violent changes
to take place every few minutes, at times projecting dense masses of
lava-like substances high aloft, and masses of dark but brilliant oily
material like half-cooled metal; at other times their cavernous depths
were comparatively shaded by the clouds and by their own immensity, and
corresponded to the ‘spots’ seen from Earth. There are also immense
clouds of hydrogen, similar to Earth-clouds, forming, dispersing,
and exploding continuously above and amongst these ‘flames,’ and the
matter, liquid, solid, and gaseous, ejected from these ‘flames’ is
inconceivable.

In shape the ‘corona’ spreads far and wide in all directions in
wondrous variety both of form and colour, the ‘rays’ extending like a
‘glory,’ inexpressible in grandeur and magnificence. There is no real
or definite line of demarcation between the ‘corona’ and the ‘flames,’
for, in some cases, the flames reach upwards and spread outwards like a
gaseous envelope and form the base of the corona, whilst in others, the
corona becomes part of the actual substance and shape of the tongues of
eruptive fire which are designated ‘flames.’

Many theories have been put forward to explain what the corona really
is; some saying that it is cometary matter, others that it is merely
nebulous; that it is formed of streams of myriads of meteorites; that
it is merely a form of Zodiacal Light, and again others that it is
nothing more than the glare of the furnace below reflected on the upper
strata of atmosphere, as that of a terrestrial furnace is reflected
on the clouds above it. It was, therefore, a proud moment when, after
long investigation, the explorers could settle all these points of
doubt, and prove it to be gaseous, finding, at various portions of
its mass, oxygen, combining in enormous quantities with hydrogen,
carbon, phosphorus, carbon mon-oxide, and sulphur, the combustion being
accompanied with terrific heat and noise. Some idea of the amazing
heat may be gathered from the fact that there were thousands of miles
of carbon existing in combination with other of the most refractory
elements as extremely thin and tenuous vapour, accompanying which
were violent electric discharges, which encircled the _Regina_ hour
after hour and day after day in a tireless surging sea which, until
the first fear had subsided, had paled the faces of the occupants, for
the flood was so incessant that they could not help doubting if their
protecting force would be proof against it, so close it seemed as they
gathered round the windows trying to believe they were safe, longing
for it either to terminate or for the annihilating stroke to end their
suspense and close the terrible waiting for the death that tarried.
But as it was perceived that although the _Regina_ was the focus of
all the wild, electric fluid of the zones and strata through which she
sank, she continued her roving course unfettered and unharmed as if in
a shower of Earth-rain, all fear gradually subsided, and the voyagers
could look on the awful scene as on a wondrous panorama; with no alarm
and scarcely an expression of surprise except when some more than
usually magnificent effect compelled their voiced admiration. And all
this time as the ship was sinking with a slow and steady descent, the
clouds were dropping their elements, cooled from their gaseous state to
finely powdered dust, to be reheated and blown back in fresh clouds of
white and glowing gas, which mounted higher and higher in an endless
repetition.

Had the voyage ended here the results would have been worth all the
trouble and risk, for the solar corona, and chromosphere or sierra,
had once and for all time given up their secrets. Having gone through
these, the travellers came to the ‘photosphere,’ which, when seen from
Earth, defines to the eye the extent of the sun’s disc. This was, in
reality, a sea of white-hot fire, or lava, so fierce that the liquid
was thin as spirit, and the ‘waves,’ ‘granules,’ ‘willow-leaves,’
or ‘rice-grains,’ to which various astronomers have referred, were
actually the rippling waves of the fiery, solar sea, the ‘photosphere’
through which no instrument known on Earth has power to penetrate, and
so white and blinding is the glare of it, that only those instruments
of very high power can clearly distinguish the ‘rice-grains,’ which
are accompanied by myriads of dark spots, called ‘pores,’ these being
merely the shadows between the ‘rice-grains’; the latter in a constant
state of ‘boil,’ caused by portions being heated from the under-source
and, increasing in volume, becoming specifically lighter and rushing
upwards to a higher plane to which they carry much of their newly
acquired temperature, their tops, or crests, glowing; whilst the
portions of the sea which surrounded them sink into the cavities they
left behind when they were projected upward, these also to be heated
and again to return, their cooler portions and return showing as
‘pores.’

The intense energy and rapidity with which these convection currents
take place are so awful in their fierceness that the human mind can
form no idea of what gas, vapour and energy on the sun really are.
Solar vapour is certainly millions of times more powerful than a
terrestrial solid, and the greatest conceivable crash of impact of
Earth-solid would not be anything near so violent as the tiniest spray
of solar vapour, and in addition to this lightning-like, irresistible
surge, there are portions of the solar sea where, either through the
extra refractibility, or the union of some explosive gases, the liquid
remains quiescent, or rather in a state of quiet ebullition, when, with
a terrific report, it suddenly bursts, shooting upwards in a spray of
white-hot foam, for hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles into the
atmosphere. And there follows terrible flaming and explosive vapour,
which spreads upwards and around, exploding and lighting other units of
similar gas here, there, and everywhere, till the whole atmosphere to
the horizon, and upwards as far as the clouds and flames will allow the
sight to penetrate, is one deafening, exploding mass, as if some giant
insect had rushed into a flame and the fierce heat caused the sudden
expansion of its moisture to burst it, and the now dismembered creature
had been flung screeching and flaming to the four winds of heaven, or
as if some mighty bomb had been flung into and devastated hell.

As they hovered over this solar sea the effect was frightful to
contemplate and their position nerve-shaking in the extreme, and again
came the natural doubt that if they were fortunate in that the ship
withstood the incalculable heat, she could never even float on that
terrible sea, for who could estimate the temperature of a mass of
molten metal and other substances nearly nine hundred thousand miles in
diameter. She would be shattered in the awful tumult and the hurtling
masses of vapour and the batterings of the irresistible fiery waves,
the mere splashes of the foam of which came together with crashes of
thunder, and several of the passengers rushed in trepidation to the
owners of the vessel who, each in his own prearranged place, were
watching intently the _Regina’s_ various gauges and instruments, for
the lives of all depended on the accurate adjustment of the various
forces over which they had control, and the movement of a switch a
thousandth of an inch too much or too little would throw matters out
of balance and mean death, instant and certain. Ross was controlling
the gravity, retarding and increasing as the ship rested and fell,
constantly watching and comparing the dials registering the sun’s
gravity with that stating their own, keeping both in proper adjustment
together, lest, in the twinkling of an eye, they should be drawn to the
surface of the fiery sea. The work of Dennis and Gilbert was no less
important and necessary to the general safety, and as Morris Farrant
approached the barrier, Ross made the ship stationary and stepped into
the saloon, along with his two colleagues, and in answer to Farrant’s
inquiry, he replied, “You need have no fear! the vessel’s protective
force could even now be greatly increased.”

“Then there is no danger from shock of impact?” inquired Rowland.

“None whatever!” replied Ross; “we have on the compensating force which
automatically calls out more force than that projected against her,
as and to the extent in which it is needed, so that nothing can touch
her,” and then he suddenly exclaimed, “Just look at that sea coming
straight at us!” and all rushed to the sloping windows, to see before
them a flood of fire, miles in extent, rapidly welling upwards, the
ship in the centre of it, and safe as they felt themselves to be, each
gave an involuntary gasp as the deluge swept towards them and rose up
and up till they were in the heart of it; then it passed and a few
minutes later was exploded to the corona, where it was cast in all
directions, falling on the surface of the sea with hissing splashes;
a second later it was reheated, and the sea was gleaming white as
before. All gave another sigh as this great tidal-wave passed.

“That is, perhaps, the most severe test we have had,” exclaimed
Gilbert, “for it is the actual solar sea which swept over us! and this
proves that we can go through it in safety.”

“I cannot grasp it!” said Lees Ingle, an electrician. “I cannot
comprehend how you can overcome gravity in this way, and why we are not
overwhelmed! but then, that’s your affair!” and he laughed, thoroughly
mystified.

“There’s this in it, anyway!” observed Godfrey, also laughing, “they’d
scarcely come and bring _me_ if there was much danger of being
frizzled, and if we get toasted they do, for we’re all in the same
boat.”

This safe passage of the tidal-wave set all doubts at rest finally,
which was felt by all a wonderful relief, and with added zest they set
to work again, this time to investigate the sun spots, but they could
not find any. For days they wandered to and fro, seeing only larger
and smaller ‘granules’ and ‘pores,’ as the heat and movement were more
or less intense; but owing to the difficulty of seeing far ahead by
reason of the heavy and fiery clouds above, and the deceptive whiteness
of the surface below, they were unable to locate their position, for
terrestrial compasses were useless. At last, after a long search they
came to a zone of what they judged to be the familiar ‘sun spots’ which
may be seen from Earth any day without the aid of a telescope, if there
be but a little fog, or a smoked glass handy, and straightway commenced
examining, measuring, and observing the origin of their formation, and
why Earth was affected by their movements.

The primary cause was found to be the enormous pressures of vapour
and currents of heat, which, acting violently on certain parts of
the photosphere, made those parts much fiercer and brighter by the
intensity of the heat, and thus the parts adjacent and surrounding
the whiter portions appeared considerably darker by contrast, just as
a spot of brilliant white placed on a piece of paper less white will
cause that portion of the paper immediately surrounding it to appear
grey by contrast. Such portions resumed their normal state when the
fierce local heat had passed—or, in reality, when the super-heated
portion had cooled to that of the surrounding portions and the colour
had become normal and even; for in these cases there are no spots
except by contrast, which accounted satisfactorily for the fact that
from Earth dark spots are seen to remain for various lengths of time,
from a few minutes to a few days, and then vanish, suddenly to appear
again elsewhere, following the course of the super-heated zone or the
locality which might then be in a state of constant motion.

Some of these locally super-heated spots were found to vary from the
diameter of a few inches to thousands of miles—one near the solar
equator, and visible from Earth, being nearly two hundred thousand
miles across. These and other large spots are mostly situated between
solar latitudes 5° and 35° north and south of the equator, and are so
extensive that certain physical causes have made them more or less
constant. The continued welling upward of these portions of the solar
sea and their cooler return have banked up the outer sides or borders
of the spots, and deepened their interior space, after the manner of a
volcano, and they are in a state of incessant eruption or boil.

Many of the sun-spots, also forming deep depressions, cavities, or
wells in the photosphere, and penetrating for a considerable distance
towards the interior of the sun, are caused by vast descending and
often cyclonic cones of super-heated vapour of inconceivably enormous
energy. Passing over the tops of the apertures, these are drawn inside
and, once entered, spin round the whole interior surface with terrible
velocity, causing the boiling lava-like contents to be involved in
intense revolution, the speed of which cools the far edges on the
surface of the photosphere, causing definite lines or boundaries of
demarcation which, owing to their reduced temperature, though still
liquid, are considerably subdued in colour. To the eye these present
a darkened hollow of terrible depth and fierceness, in and through
which mighty currents flow unceasingly with lightning rapidity, and in
many cases several of these cyclonic seas are connected by straits or
channels. Seen from above, they show a dark core, or ‘nucleus,’ and
surrounding this is the ‘umbra,’ which is not so dark as the core but
is really the darker and cooler _sides_ of the cavity; and between this
and the blinding white of the outer sea, or surface of the photosphere,
is the ‘penumbra,’ which is the _margin_ of the cavity, appearing a
greyish white in contrast to the gleaming white outer surface, and
these three lines of demarcation are easily distinguishable from Earth.

In some cases there are long ‘bridges’ from the umbra to the penumbra,
caused by surface irregularities. In passing over these cones, or
spots, the _Regina_ gave out enormous charges of electricity, and for
some time the cause was not discovered, till at last it was found that
the extraordinary pressures and conflicting currents in these regions
generated a considerable amount of electricity, which was projected
outwards and caught full on the _Regina_ as she passed over. This,
then, was the solution to the hitherto mysterious manner in which
the appearance and disappearance of sun-spots affect the Earth; the
gigantic force of electricity generated in these super-heated zones
is projected outwards and, travelling through space, no doubt affects
every member of the solar family, Earth-people feeling its influence
in simultaneous atmospheric and cyclonic disturbances and a general
upsetting of magnetic needles, wave-apparatus and the like, while in
the mass of Earth itself causing at these times shakings, tremors,
volcanic eruptions, landslips and earthquakes, all of a more or less
violent character. Some of these vapour movements, vertical, horizontal
and oblique, were proved by measurements to exceed half a million miles
per second.

A sail round the entire surface of the sun proved the actual
measurement to be 2,742,937 miles in circumference, or, roughly,
about 873,105 miles in diameter, and not 866,500 or thereabouts, as
previously supposed, and that its velocity of rotation at the equator
was 6570 miles per hour, whilst the force of gravity on its surface,
reckoning Earth as 1, was measured by the _Regina’s_ gravitometer to be
28·75 exactly.

Having spent nearly six weeks in roaming over the surface, the question
arose as to the advisability of passing into or through its mass,
and all were eager to make the attempt, risking the possibility of
annihilation.

“We are in your hands,” said Gilbert; “we have arranged to go when and
where you desire; so shall we go down slowly, in order that you may
examine the strata as we go, or quickly?”

“We would like to go slow,” said several; and Kirkby Reeve asked if
any idea could be formed of the interior, and of what it was likely to
consist; when Gilbert answered,—“We can only tell by going. We shall
find plenty of excitement in it till we get to the centre, and as we go
through to the other side.”

“Is it not tempting Providence?” observed Heriot Field, a naturalist.
“Considering we were saved in the tidal wave, shall we not let that
suffice?”

“Certainly, if you wish it,” replied Gilbert, bluntly; “would you
rather not go—are you afraid?”

“I am, I know! awfully afraid!” exclaimed Godfrey, tactfully, seeing
that Field resented Gilbert’s unthinking remark, “and so are we all,
and I expect if you asked each of us if we would rather not go, we
should all say ‘Yes,’ but we intend going all the same!—at least I
suppose so, for we don’t get the chance of slipping into the sun every
day; so if all are ready and willing, sink her, old man, and then we’ll
watch—and get roasted together, may be!”

All smiled, even Field, serious as was the occasion, and Gilbert
altered several of the switches, closely examining the indicators
meanwhile, then came into the saloon and joined the rest, who
were crowded round the windows in silence; somehow, words seemed
superfluous, as they stood, each intently thinking, for any moment now
they might meet their doom.

For the space of several minutes they stood, with no apparent change.

“We are not moving!” said Rollsborough, in an intense whisper.

“Yes,” responded Gilbert, “we are becoming slowly heavier; look! the
sea is drawing nearer!”

So it was; the ship seemed perfectly still, and the fiery ocean
to the whole horizon was apparently rising up to them, the waves
spinning and lashing and the ‘granules,’ or ‘rice-grains,’ their tops
wonderfully white, were gleaming and sparkling like the sun on rippling
Earth-water, as they spun in eddies and long, lapping waves; and a
moment later the ocean appeared to give a final rush upwards to crush
the ship, and the liquid fire was level with the base of the windows;
then the surface of it was level with their eyes; then it rose higher,
and the windows seemed covered from the bottom with a golden-like blind
with an edging of sparkling lace as it drew higher and higher, and then
they were engulfed.

Now what was to happen? Were they to be destroyed in that awful bath?
Each drew a deep breath and gripped the sides of the windows, as
though that would save them; then the deathly silence was broken by
Rollsborough saying in a whisper, “See, the fire is at least a foot
distant from the windows. We are safe!”

“Thank God!” came from several parts of the saloon, so hoarsely and
faintly that it had been more heartfelt than articulate.

No one spoke again for some minutes, for thoughts and the relief from
tension were too deep for words. Slowly they sank, seeing nothing but
cream-coloured blinds to the windows—a sea which became as slowly
hotter and more glaringly white till at last they could scarcely see in
the blinding light. They drew all the screens before the windows, and
after ascertaining that the continuous photographic apparatus and the
instruments for spectrum-photography were working properly, they waited
as patiently as their excitement would allow. For hours they continued
their slow descent, the time seeming like an eternity, till at last
some one ejaculated, “For mercy’s sake, let us get through or we shall
be turning delirious!”

Gilbert, whose turn it was to be in charge of the ship’s movements,
said not a word, but walked across to the switchboard and made some
slight alteration, then came amongst them again. Scarcely had he
resumed his position when, with the suddenness of a pistol-shot, they
were plunged into darkness—a darkness that could be felt.

Willing hands excitedly drew up the screens, but all outside was dense
blackness; the inner lights were put on, but only the inside of the net
was visible through the glass, and Ross at once switched on the whole
of the search-lights, which blazed forth in all directions, revealing
dense and impenetrable fog on every side.

“What has happened? Where are we?” every one was asking, in
consternation.

“I don’t know!” replied Gilbert, looking at the dial and the distance
travelled; “the ship is all right; we are still falling rapidly, but
we’re not in the sun, that’s evident!” And he brought the vessel to a
stand, poised in equilibrium, wherever they might be.




                              CHAPTER XIII

                           “VAULTS OF PURPLE”


                            “All the elements
             At least had gone to wreck, disturbed and torn
             With violence of this conflict.”
                                                  (+Milton.+)

“What’s up, old man?” exclaimed Ross, hurriedly, as he and Dennis came
hastily round the barrier, and Dennis asked, “Anything gone wrong?”

“Not here!” replied Gilbert, mystified; “the ship’s all right,
everything is in perfect order and working splendidly. What’s gone
wrong we’ve to find out. We have come on a straight line towards the
centre.”

“Have we gone off at a tangent and come outside?” asked Miles Dalton, a
botanist, as the rest all crowded up to the barrier.

“Impossible!” replied Dennis, “or we should again be in the atmosphere,
or photosphere.”

“We must do something!” said Gilbert; “shall we sample the fog outside
with one of the strong retainers, and risk another explosion?” All the
others assenting, he continued: “Here, Dennis, take my place, old man,
and do something for your living! that job can wait, under the circs.!”
And he and Price Rowland passed into the laboratory.

The ship being safe, the others all stood about discussing the curious
situation, without arriving at any reasonable conclusion. In the
meantime, Gilbert and Rowland had obtained a sample of the outer air,
this time without accident, and in due course they entered the saloon,
where all the others crowded round them, anticipating startling news
from their surprised expressions.

“What do you think!” exclaimed Gilbert; “the atmosphere here is
nitrogen, neither more nor less than pure nitrogen!”

Had he told them they were in the shed at home, his fellow travellers
could not have been more astonished, and several incredulously
repeated, “Nitrogen? _nitrogen!_ are you sure? Nitrogen!!—a colourless
gas, and this colour!”

“Yes, indeed it is,” answered Rowland. “This soup-like appearance is
due entirely to fine particles of metallic and other dust which, when
taken away, leaves absolutely pure nitrogen.”

“Then the inference is obvious!” cried Rutherford and several others.

“Assuredly,” agreed Gilbert; “all is now clear as daylight. We have
passed through the immensely thick crust of the sun, and either come
into a stratum of nitrogen or the whole interior of the planet is
nitrogen.”

Here, indeed, was a discovery. This gas, nitrogen, from its being
neutral and neither inflammable nor a supporter of combustion, either
had put out the solar fire or caused a thick black crust of solid
matter to form, which was the black portion through which they had
recently passed, and the fine particles of solidified sun-dust were
falling towards the centre, drawn thither by their own gravity; those
being eliminated, nitrogen only remained.

“All has come to pass as you foretold, Oakland,” said Parkin Coombes;
“but in spite of the _Regina’s_ powers it seems a marvellous thing that
the sea has not rushed in after us, through the aperture we made.”

“And if the atoms were pushed aside by the _Regina_ and pressed into
the parts adjacent, so as to allow free passage to the ship, one would
think the sides of the well-like opening we made would become so
tightly packed as to prevent the re-formation of the atoms in their
original position, and thus form a shaft down which the sea could
pour,” said Farrant.

“Yes,” replied Dennis, “that is what would occur ordinarily; but
being temporarily turned into vapour by our de-atomising force, the
atoms would, almost instantly after our passage, resume their former
condition, and what heat had been imparted to them by the change would
be destroyed by this nitrogen. Consequently, we have not disturbed the
crust—actually—although, considering the circumstances, how we have
escaped being involved in an awful explosion is a mystery.”

“Anyway, it is evident we _are_ fairly inside Dan Phœbus!” exclaimed
Rowland; “and whether we caused an extra explosion up above or not
is immaterial, for it is certain that the crust is as substantial as
before, or the fiery sea even now would be pouring down on us and into
the interior.”

Their discovery of the nitrogen could not do otherwise than cause a
violent sensation, and every one buttonholed his neighbour, and talked
and expounded theories galore. Then Gilbert asked them to come into the
laboratory, and they trooped in _en masse_, for each knew what such a
revelation meant, and to what it might lead, and every one was on the
tip-toe of expectancy. Fresh samples were taken, with the same result
as before; they were in a sea of nitrogen, safe from fire—but were they
safe from chemical action?

On this point, judging from the severe tests which their protecting
currents had withstood already, they were reassured, and then the whole
company went nearly wild with enthusiasm. They were so delighted as
almost to bewilder the three owners with thanks and congratulations
for bringing them there, and to Godfrey also for his share in it, which
made the four of them so shy and embarrassed that, in comic despair,
they took Rollsborough by the collar and pushed him to the fore, as the
one who had first suggested they should go _through_ the sun, and then
_he_ became the centre of a fresh avalanche of applause; they chaired
him, like a set of wild schoolboys, and kept it up till the simple,
good-hearted little man nearly cried with pleasure and excitement,
and could only say, hysterically, “No, no, gentlemen! not I, not I! I
had no idea of this happening; I had not, really! Thank Oakland and
his friends, and our good friend Spenser. Oh dear! gentlemen, don’t,
I beg of you! It is very kind of you, very, but—no, no! I thank you
sincerely, but—Oakland, and——” And, overwhelmed, he struggled and
fought his way amongst his clamouring colleagues till he got to Dennis,
under whose wing he took shelter, exclaiming, “Really, Oakland, all the
thanks are due to you and to Eastern, and Ainley, and to Spenser, here,
and how _can_ we thank you enough! What will the world say?” And the
poor man mopped his forehead, agitated and perspiring.

“The world!” interjected Godfrey, laughing. “What will the world say?
It will say that we are one and all supreme liars, at the very least,
possibly something stronger!—for to begin with, no one on Earth will
believe for a moment that we have been under the sun’s enormous crust,
or even _in_ the fiery sea at all.”

No one seemed to have thought of that, and somebody suggested they
should at once ‘wave’ the news to Earth and see how they took it, so
Ross despatched the message, and after a while the instrument started
and the reply came: “The _Regina_ is too small for us to pick her out
on the sun’s disc. We note you say that you are inside the sun and
appreciate your joke.”

This was pinned up, and caused no little amusement, which soon turned
to mortification when there dawned on them the utter impossibility of
being able to prove their statements.

The dust seemed exactly like that obtained up above, and therefore
to say a portion of it had been obtained below the photosphere, and
another portion high above, would be no proof that they had not divided
it; and to bring back cylinders of pure nitrogen with a statement that
it came from inside the crust would not prove that it had not been
made on board. Neither would the miles of continuous photographs and
spectrum films prove the positions from which they had been taken.

Of course they were all trusted scientists, men on whose word
reliance was placed, but it seems to be a trait in human nature to
doubt anything abnormally wonderful, unusual, or even contrary to
established belief and expectations; and though the weight of numbers
all telling the same story precluded avowed incredulity, all knew that
to state such startling and unexpected facts without substantial and
indisputable proof would but cause people to disbelieve at heart while
apparently agreeing with what they could not deny.

They could only leave it to chance to provide them the evidence
required, so they dismissed the matter for the moment, and several
suggested that they should rise and examine the interior of the crust,
or shell. Accordingly Dennis caused the _Regina_ to rise till her
dome was just below the crust, but near as were the lights, their
powerful beams failed to penetrate the gas, rendered thick by the fine
dust which absorbed their rays. The vessel then circled the crust,
travelling immediately beneath, but though many samples of air were
taken, the same results followed, revealing only nitrogen.

After the circuit had been made, Ross inquired, “Are we going upward
outside, the way we came, or shall we descend to the centre?”

Some were for returning and others for sinking, when Sorrel said:
“Let us fall, Ainley. There’s no telling what will happen, and as we
_are_ here we shall see, at any rate, if the whole of the interior is
nitrogen.”

This now meeting with general assent, the ship fell steadily, all
the search-lights full on, and every face was pressed closely to the
windows, watching the opaque wall of dust, so that no alteration or
passing object should escape notice. In a few minutes there was a
general exclamation of surprise, as, simultaneously, all saw a change
take place in the fog around, and there was a sudden cry from various
places, “Oxygen, with nitrogen—nitrogen peroxide!”

Instantly the ship was stopped, and on all sides the wall of fog showed
ruddy-coloured and glowing. The particles of dust were being destroyed,
either by heat or evaporation, for the light now penetrated several
feet and the haze had the distinct red glow which comes from the
chemical combination of nitrogen with oxygen, though on Earth such a
union is caused by the action of intense heat.

Again was there great excitement, and all crowded round Gilbert, as he
obtained and examined a sample of the outer air, which but confirmed
their suppositions, there being a perceptible diminution in the
quantity of dust collected.

It was now about the usual time for retiring to rest but all ignored
the automatic electric signal; sleep, even rest, was out of the
question, for who could sleep when such strange and marvellous
phenomena were unfolded before them in such unexpected and exciting
form.

They sailed forward, maintaining the same gravity, thus keeping
an equal distance from the crust all round, returning to the spot
from which they started, finding but a repetition of the previous
experience; in some wonderful and unaccountable way the deadly
nitrogen had taken to itself, and united with, oxygen, giving promise
of becoming less deadly.

Slowly sank the ship, samples of the air being taken every few miles,
and though for several hours there was no change, they eventually came
to a stratum where there was a greater percentage of oxygen. All knew
what this portended and again everybody became almost distracted, and
it required all their self-control to enable them to conduct their
observations calmly and systematically, step by step, as they proceeded.

All at once Dennis threw down some wires from an induction coil which
he had been using, saying to Ross,—“I’m played out, Ross! Tell them
all to go to sleep, and insist on it; what’s coming can wait! And let
the ship stay where she is.” And he passed on into his cabin, where he
flung himself down just as he was, falling asleep almost before he had
settled in his hammock, without heeding Ross’s reply.

Ross then spoke up: “I say, you fellows, we must look after our health,
you know! For nearly fifty hours we have had no sleep, and all the time
have been under full pressure of exciting work. We cannot continue it
without being ill, and illness on board would be a dreadful thing. Let
us all retire for at least twelve hours and then we can continue our
observations and experiments in detail, as we sink down to that which
appears to be below us. In the meantime, the ship is stationary and
will not move a hair’s-breadth, so we shall lose nothing. Good-night.”
And he also passed into his room and was soon fast asleep.

Loth to leave their work, yet feeling the wisdom of reserving their
energies, and finding there was no movement in the air around, the
others gradually sought repose in their cabins, going off in driblets
till the saloon, laboratory and observatory were empty, and throughout
the ship there reigned silence, broken only by the heavy breathing of
the sleepers.

Gilbert had retired some hours before Dennis; for over two days he had
been working feverishly, but though fagged out, he would not seek rest
except on Ross’s solemn promise to wake him in order to take charge of
the vessel. Consequently, he was the first up, and saw that for the
first time during the voyage the ship was unwatched, and felt somewhat
annoyed that Ross had not called him as promised before vacating his
position. Evidently both he and Dennis had been too weary to waken
their sleeping companion.

Mechanically Gilbert looked round and saw that all was safe, then
passed into the rooms of Dennis and Ross, both of whom were sleeping
soundly; in the reflecting tubes he examined every berth and nook of
the whole ship, to find all safe and the occupants sleeping calmly in
their cabins. He then, in the dead silence, passed out of the _sanctum
sanctorum_ to examine the air apparatus, which proved to be working
satisfactorily, and then forward into the laboratory where, after a
general glance round to see what experiments were in progress, he
commenced some further analyses of the composition, weight, and nature
of the atmosphere in which the ship rested. What was his surprise to
find that the air outside was in motion, so slight that only the most
delicate instrument recorded the faintest trace of sound, but sound it
was, undoubtedly. Rushing back, he examined the switches and dials, to
find the ship poised and absolutely still. The air must have been in
motion, therefore, the night before, but so slightly that, the ship’s
motion being present also, the instrument was unaffected. When the ship
was still, the vibration of eighteen moving people, imperceptible as
that seemed on so large and rigid a vessel, had, nevertheless, proved
sufficient to annul the instrument’s record of sound.

It was evidently an illustration of a law of physics—that if two
sound-waves not in unison meet, and the swell of one encounters the
opposite phase of the other, silence will result, for both will be
neutralised; just as in the well-known experiment of the tumbler
placed on a table and a second tumbler held at right-angles over it.
A tuning-fork in rapid vibration is held in the centre of the angle
formed by the two tumblers, and though its vibrations continue, no
sound results; but the sound is made to become audible or cease as one
of the tumblers is removed or replaced. In the one phase, by the upper
tumbler being removed there is no check on the vibrations, which are
free to produce sound, but when the upper tumbler is held as described,
the sound-waves strike one another at opposite phases, and the plus of
one is absorbed in the minus of the other.

It was a most interesting point, for the sound-waves set in motion by
the moving air and those disturbed by the moving people chanced to be
at right-angles, and produced silent vibrations. For several hours
Gilbert continued his observations and experiments, hearing first one
and then another of his companions moving about, and at last he awoke
Dennis and Ross, asking them not to start the ship for the present.
Very soon all were in their accustomed places, refreshed and alert
after their long sleep. Hearing that Gilbert had found out something
important, everybody trooped into the laboratory and he explained his
discovery.

“What do you infer from that?” asked Godfrey. “I only see in it a most
interesting physical experiment naturally conducted.”

“It is more than that,” was the reply; “it means that there is ‘sound’
outside.”

“Really!” remarked Godfrey, banteringly. “Surely we have had enough
sound outside since we came near the sun to make a little more or less
now a matter of no surprise—but you physicists have always something
wonderful up your sleeve, haven’t you, Gilbert? What is it now?”

All the rest laughed at Godfrey’s manner, and Gilbert, turning to his
chum, retorted, laughingly,—“This will prove a lesson in deduction,
old man, and show you how to make one fact elucidate another!” And
then more seriously,—“You notice that after passing through the
enormously thick sun-crust we came to silence; all the upper thundering
noises were cut off. We entered a stratum of nitrogen which even the
sun could not burn; then a little lower and it became mixed with
oxygen; now the percentage of oxygen is higher. So far, everything
points, as you all know, to the presence far below us of a breathable
atmosphere—breathable to us, I mean—and we are all naturally asking
ourselves the question, ‘Why this breathable air if there is no need
for it?’ and the presence of ‘sound,’ faint as it is, strengthens the
supposition. _If_ there is sound, as there is, something must make it,
and given an atmosphere capable of supporting human life, added to
sound, or the echo of sound as we might call it, which is now absent as
we are all moving, it is highly probable that something living exists
below. If you will kindly turn the ship on its axis, Ross, so as to
alter the direction of our waves to run parallel to those outside, we
shall find, unless I am very much mistaken, a modification of the same
law, and the two sounds which seem now to have changed and to run in
unison will be doubled when they run side by side.”

This was proved to be the case, and a sound coming from the instrument,
though faint, was distinctly audible, and the vibrations were numbered
on the dial.

“It is possible that down below us we shall find light, of course,”
remarked Parkin Coombes.

“More than possible,” replied Rowland.

“What new phase has turned up now? Do you mean to say we are likely to
be lit up shortly?” interposed Godfrey.

“Everything points to that, certainly,” answered Sorrel, “and
Rollsborough here will tell us all about it.” And as several others
came up at the news and crowded round, Rollsborough proceeded,—“It
seems more than possible that we shall come to an illumined world; the
luminiferous ether permeates everything, and given an air free from
solid matter that could obstruct, absorb, or divert the rays of light
(and every mile of descent the air is becoming clearer), there is no
reason why we should not have light below, for light is, in effect, the
same as sound and follows many of the same laws, and if two luminous
waves encounter each other at opposites, each extinguishes the other
and total darkness results; but on the other hand, if two light-rays
run parallel to each other, then the light is doubled. An effect of
this is seen in the twinkling stars, from which two unequally vibrating
rays will coincide at certain points, when their light will be doubled,
but at all their vibrations that do not coincide there is no light
of any kind, but instead, total darkness. This—darkness and light
following in rapid succession as the unequal rays coincide and miss one
another—gives us the twinkling of the stars; the altering humidity and
density of the air on Earth through which the light-rays must pass also
contribute largely to the effect of scintillation.

“It is, therefore, judging from the present progress, probable that
as we descend we shall come to a world which is self-lighting, and on
which the luminiferous ether has so many of its rays in coincidence
that every ray is augmented by its next ray, and not a single light-ray
is lost, thus making this unknown world, if not brilliant, at least
light; probably very light, as is the case with many of the stars.”

Needless to say, this conversation did not conduce to calmness in
their already exciting position, and Godfrey remarked,—“Folk say
that scientists conduct their work without sentiment, and are all
matter-of-fact, but, upon my word, we all of us need a good thrashing
to compel us to go on with our own business! I never knew it so
difficult to work steadily on and wait patiently for what is coming!”

All the same, every one knew he was working well and seriously with
every nerve concentrated on what he had in hand. And if it had been
suggested that they should rush down to solve their doubts, he
would have been one of the first to say, “No, we must not be too
enthusiastic; we must examine step by step, and get a true record of
every stratum through which we pass.” He, however, did but express the
general feeling, and none were sorry when the time came to sink lower.

All at once they descried below them a peculiar sight. As far as they
could see, there were piled up hundreds of miles of rocks, the _bases_
lit with a peculiar haze, or glow, which came from the ground itself
like a giant _ignis fatuus_, or ‘will-o’-the-wisp,’ the origin of which
is, even to-day, a mystery to science, and though many explanations
have been attempted, none are conclusive, or even tenable. Then numbers
of these flashing lights appeared, as though a multitude of people
were carrying huge candles or lanterns, some of the lights being blue,
others greenish and yellow, but the majority purple, and all these
flitted in and out and about the bases of the hills, and clambered up
and rested on peak after peak in the most ghostly manner imaginable.
Then all was dark again. The ground heaved and split, and the ‘marsh
gas,’ the colliers’ ‘fire-damp’ (evolved during the process of
decomposition of the dead and dying vegetable matter in the ground and
in the changes taking place while coal was being formed), had found a
means of outlet through the opening, and, mixing with the air, formed
the well-known explosive mixture which, with an awful though silent
disruption, laid low hill after hill, and a few seconds later what had
been a range of mountains became a desolate plain.

The ship was made in equipoise, and in complete amazement, all watched
the surface of the world below them change its shape and configuration
every few minutes—it was in constant fret, and though not losing its
shape as a whole, yet valleys were turned into hills and mountains into
deserts with an awfulness which the darkness and silence rendered even
more frightful.

All would be dark—black; then from point to point in the distance
the light would come again, roving here and there like a lost spirit
fruitlessly searching in a desolate world for its soul, and would run
up the rocks in a gliding flow, hanging for a few moments on dizzy
pinnacles, and then, in apparent despair, precipitate itself headlong,
or wash itself down the steep sides like an avalanche of sliding
snow; perhaps, when half-way down, suddenly to stop and take a fresh
movement, spreading and stretching itself like a flickering, elastic
web, embracing hill after hill in its toils, till the whole horizon was
covered with it, and there lay below them a snowy world, with every
summit frowning and black by contrast, showing above it as though
impaled. A second later the whole landscape, shuddering under its
cloak, would shake itself and the light suddenly vanish, leaving black
darkness again everywhere.

The _Regina’s_ search-lights were switched off, and the whole vessel
plunged in darkness, so that the occupants could better examine the
strange world below them as they crowded round all the windows,
intently watching through their glasses.

For a while nothing could be discerned, and then the whole country,
to the limits of blackness, was glowing with phosphorescent fire, and
times without number the rocks rose and fell as though floating on an
angry sea, completely hidden by the forms above. And all the while
the ‘will-o’-the-wisp’ lights were dancing their mad flight, and the
rocks, in their apparent endeavour to trap them, rent themselves apart
and crashed together, always too late, or too soon, for the lights
invariably fled elsewhere, whilst the rocks were but welded firmly into
larger and more compact masses.

It was a world in chaos—a nightmare of evolution—where the ghosts and
spirits of creation tossed and tumbled in their fevered, restless
efforts to build themselves into solid shape; where earth and rock
were spun and pounded together as clay in the hands of the potter;
pounded this way and that in an ever-turning churn, becoming more and
more compact as gigantic masses of earth and rock crashed together
and became absorbed one in the other, and were again packed into less
than half their bulk, mountain after mountain becoming little more
than a hill; and when no further compression seemed possible, they
would tumble upside down, their bases uppermost, their jagged roots,
which had seemed so firmly embedded in the ground, showing in the
flickering light like awful teeth, the sight of which made the flesh
creep; their peaks also, now twisted and awry with the shock, were
wounded and beseeching, for the beautiful mountains had become deformed
monstrosities. So would they heave as in an agony of physical pain,
tumbling and twisting about to obtain relief; travelling over and under
other mountains which they exposed and lifted up as they dug underneath
them, they being momentarily hidden. Some of these did not rise again,
but were plunged into the depths below, in which they became fixed;
others, after being slowly and irresistibly pounded into compactness,
would suddenly become disintegrated and spread themselves out as though
some mighty roller were crushing them into slabs, and during the
process they would resume some semblance of their original form and
become dense, hard, invincible rock with precipitous sides. Chain after
chain of hills would turn to valleys and long sweeps of undulating
country; these undulations would then become more pronounced, then
involved, and then suddenly rise; the next moment they were hundreds of
miles of forbidding, death-inviting mountain ranges, with craggy sides
on which no human being could find a foothold, or if found, could keep.
Over the range would pass a gentle shiver, and without a sound would
follow an awful earthquake, swallowing up hundreds of enormous hills,
and for the space of fully five minutes there yawned beneath the ship a
bottomless gulf, with sides as straight as if cut, into which the whole
mass of the hills seemed to tumble.

Even here the strange and lurid light flashed on the sides of the
chasm as they dashed together again, leaving no trace of the awful
catastrophe.

Awed into long and complete silence, the occupants of the _Regina_
watched the chaotic disturbance below, rendered doubly amazing by
the absence of sound—at least of sufficient volume to penetrate the
vessel—and the gentle, deliberate way in which all the movements took
place. Had the changes been made with terrible speed and deafening
clatter and bang, the observers would not have been disturbed, for
there would have been nothing abnormal, but sound _could_ be heard in
the ship, and such havoc ought to have been accompanied with crash and
noise, yet the upheavals took place silently, the impacts being an
‘absorption’ of one into the other, as it were, with quiet force which
seemed awful in its irresistibility.

“I think this is more awful than the fire above!” ejaculated Merrick
Rutherford, at last.

“It is!” agreed Creeve Kelman, with a long breath. “Who would have
thought that a world was so formed?”

“And contrary, too, to all established beliefs and theories!” said
Sorrel.

“We had better go down into it,” proposed Gilbert; “we shall be safe!
What do you say, all?”

“Yes, let us go,” said Dennis; “we have seen as much as we can from
here”; and Gilbert stepped towards the switch-board, but scarcely had
he traversed half the distance when there was a yell from Godfrey,
who turned away from the window, shrieking with laughter. So long and
vigorously did he laugh that the poor fellow could not stand, and,
doubled up as he was, he sought to sit on a chair, but missing it, fell
on the floor, where he lay laughing and crying in turn.

“He’s gone mad!” cried half a dozen, in dismay, as they rushed to his
assistance, but being waved aside, they formed a circle round their
prostrate companion, all the rest hurrying up also.

“Whatever’s the matter, Godfrey,” exclaimed Gilbert, running back.

“Mad! we’re all mad!” gurgled Godfrey, painfully. “Oh, Great Bona! I
shall die, I’m sure I shall! I can’t laugh any more. Oh, dear!” and he
rolled over in agony.

“Tell us all about it, old man!” exclaimed several, soothingly, as they
attempted to raise him up, which drew a protest as he slid back on the
floor, moaning, “Oh, don’t! don’t touch me, or I’ll snap in two like a
carrot!—the windows!—look out——”

All rushed to the windows, but nothing was visible except the turbulent
world, and when they turned round Godfrey was sat on the floor with his
legs straight out and his hands to his sides, the picture of woe.

“There’s nothing!” said Dennis; “only what we’ve been looking at half a
day. Tell us what’s the matter, there’s a good chap.”

“The matter?” moaned Godfrey, getting on his hands and knees like
a bear, but, finding it painful, sitting down again. “The matter!
everything’s the matter! And ‘only what we’ve been looking at half a
day’!—why, that’s just it, my boy!

“We’re as bright a set of idiots as could be got together in a
lifetime!” And he declaimed, as if giving a lecture,—“We get into the
way of looking for scientific explanations for everything, till we
can’t use our eyes to see what’s staring us in the face as plainly as a
hole in a ladder! My dear fellow-idiots, I regret to say that it only
dawned across my woolly brains a few moments since that we have, the
whole lot of us, spent five solid hours staring at nothing more nor
less than _clouds with light on them_, thinking——”

“Clouds!!” they all shrieked, without waiting to hear more, and,
leaving the orator as if he were a pestilence, they made a tumbling
rush for the windows. Now they had the idea, they saw distinctly that
they were above a stratum of clouds which were faintly illumined from
below, the light catching the upper portions as their movements allowed
it points of entrance.

There was no doubt about it! the more they gazed, the more certain
it was, and the grim humour of the situation appealed to them as to
Godfrey; they all laughed till they could not stand, some till they
could not sit but rolled on the floor to join Godfrey, alternately
wiping away tears and holding their aching sides. Anon they would look
up at one another with pain-drawn features, and the sight of their
companions in a similar state would send them off into fresh paroxysms
of laughter. The joke, like the sun, was immense; not one of these
intensely scientific men could be said to be without a sense of humour,
and not one of them felt in any way ashamed or embarrassed to be
utterly prostrated with amusement at his own blunder. But the laugh did
come in, though they had to do it themselves, and “it’s a good thing to
laugh, at any rate.”

After they had all calmed sufficiently to be serious again they
descended, photographing as they fell, in accordance with the custom
they had observed since the commencement of the voyage; and as they
sank they came to brighter and still brighter strata until at last,
far below them, they espied a wide stretch of what appeared to be
Earth-clouds, so Earth-names were given to them. The highest, those
now immediately below them, were the ‘cirrus,’ or ‘mare’s tails,’ and
were moving somewhat rapidly, proving the presence of a strong wind as
in the strata above. These cirrus clouds floating on this particular
current of atmosphere were proved to be minute crystals of ice, the
refractions and reflections of which produced ravishing colour. Below
these were heavy cumuli, cutting off all view below as they lay in
an unbroken bed beneath them, like a sea of grey, unbleached wool,
and once through these, although they had hoped for what they saw,
the realisation raised their excitement to fever-heat. Ever since
they had found the atmosphere changing from deadly nitrogen by very
gradual degrees into the semblance of Earth-atmosphere, they had partly
expected to find an interior world of some form or other, yet they
could be excused feeling fevered when they saw below them their whole
horizon filled with land, only lit by the luminous ether, ’tis true,
but clear and fresh as one sees the Earth under the light of early dawn.

The cirrus clouds had been 43,000 feet above the ground, the cumulus
had had an elevation of but 6000 feet, and now, a few feet above the
ground, Rowland took the last sample of air and found it contained
nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, aqueous vapour, helium, and traces of
nitric acid, ammonia and carburetted hydrogen, thus being practically
like terrestrial atmosphere, and the gravitometer registered the same
gravity as that of Earth, so that there was no reason why the outer
air should not be breathed, and amidst cheers, for the second time
since leaving Earth, the doors were opened, the net drawn aside, and
there permeated the ship the natural air of heaven, pure and fresh
as that on the country moors in the far-away home—and the hearts of
the adventurers filled with gratitude and thankfulness for their
preservation.

The first care was to go over every inch of the net and outer casing
of the ship, in case any damage had been sustained, so that they might
at once make any needful repairs, or, if necessary, replace the net
with a new one they had brought for such a contingency, several having
been woven at the same time. Every knot and twist was most searchingly
scrutinised, for all their lives during the equally perilous return
journey depended on the immutability of the net, but it was found in as
excellent condition as when newly woven.

This long and tedious though important task over, they gave themselves
up to the examination of that portion of the country on which they had
settled; this was overgrown with small trees and shrubs, the foliage,
as well as the grass, being a strange golden yellow, twinkling with
green.

This might be the effect of the peculiar light, but be that as it
may, all were amazed to see so strange a sight under circumstances
so entirely at variance, for in the absence of sunshine, how was it
possible for the vegetation to have such glinting, gleaming lights?

On closer inspection, they were surprised beyond measure to find that
what they had taken to be long tendrils were, in reality, festoons
of insects, clinging together in such numbers as to obliterate every
living thing above the ground. There were millions of them, and their
golden, horny bodies, with brilliant green elytra, or wing-cases,
which their movements caused to be in a state of constant agitation,
produced a shimmering as of a myriad gems. On the bushes being shaken
they arose in a golden cloud, as of cut and sparkling precious stones,
to settle a moment later, hiding every living thing of vegetable
growth, clinging to each other in some places like swarming bees, and
in others they formed strings, festoons and tendrils, binding bush
to bush with living, jewelled cords, and the combined sound of their
movements rose in a faint hum like a distant, swiftly revolving fan.
It was a fairy-land. Examination of the plants was scarcely possible,
for no sooner had the little creatures been disturbed and their
resting-places exposed than they were back again, and so persistent
were they in this that though some of the shrubs were cut down and
taken into the vessel, thousands followed and rested on them. How they
lived was a miracle, for they did not appear to eat the vegetation,
yet it was necessary to their existence, for of all the thousands
Godfrey and his entomological colleagues collected and kept apart, not
one survived, yet those allowed to remain on or near the shrubs lived
and multiplied exceedingly, although, like some of the ephemera—the
may-fly, for instance—they possessed no mouth organs, or indeed any
digestive organs, even of a rudimentary nature. And strange to say, the
shrubs and plants (which, in common with all other vegetable growth
on this world, when divested of the insects, were of a pale green
colour) neither grew nor faded, losing none of their suppleness, and
when carefully weighed it was found that after they had given support
to scores of generations of thousands of insects, their weight had
not varied in the least. Neither ordinary heat nor moisture affects
them, but if an actual light is put to them or they are burned, they
then prove highly inflammable, burning furiously till consumed, when
they leave no ash or residue; they are, however, perfectly safe at any
temperature not exceeding 200° F.

With regard to the insects themselves, so rapidly did they increase
that every week or so handfuls had to be taken away and kept apart from
the shrubs, when they died—yet thousands never got near because of
the thousands intervening, to which they clung. It was an interesting
instance of symbiosis, and virtue in some shape or form must have been
transmitted through the intervening bodies, or possibly by means of
some delicate sense of smell.

Neither Godfrey nor any other of the great biologists of the time have
ever been able to throw any additional light on the matter, though
not unparallel cases have been known in certain of those islands on
Earth, of highly volcanic origin, formerly called the Fiji, or Viti
Islands, which were a British dependency. These islands were famed
for the tropical luxuriance of their vegetable and insect life, but
were submerged in the South Pacific by the great tidal wave closely
following the devastating eruption and earthquake of 2316 +a.d.+, which
permanently raised that portion of the South Pacific Ocean.




                               CHAPTER XIV

                           BETWEEN TWO WORLDS


                “For thousand perils lie in close await
                 That none except a god, or God him guide,
                 May them avoid, or remedy provide.”
                                                 (+Spenser.+)

There were no inhabitants anywhere in sight, and the general appearance
of the landscape was flat, the country stretching away in beautiful
rolls of heath, broken only by the small, stunted trees and shrubs on
which were seen the millions and millions of strange insects, their
shining bodies causing the landscape to look as if covered with corn
golden to harvest, and shaking with vivid green dewdrops.

After roaming about for several miles, disturbing these insects at
every step, at each further step to find that those last disturbed had
settled down again, the wanderers returned to the ship, most of them
weary with the monotony.

As there was now no danger of damage from outer heat, the net had
been drawn back from before the windows, and with everything open and
most of the explorers on the outer deck, the vessel sailed along some
twenty feet above the ground. For some distance the country continued
flat, but before very long the ship had to rise to avoid some hills
over which they passed; then came a wooded valley where their presence
startled thousands of birds not unlike our wild pigeons, which rose out
of the trees and encircled the ship, many of them entering fearlessly.
Beyond the momentary alarm at the enclosed place, they seemed not in
the least afraid, when several of the fellows stroked their heads and
their tiny ears almost hidden by minute feathers. They followed the
ship for miles, flying inside and out, devouring the food offered them
with avidity, and making themselves so perfectly at home that a dozen
or more, finding things to their liking, stayed and became general
favourites, walking and flying about in all parts of the ship except
the laboratory and engine-room; either the aroma or a sense of danger
caused them to shun these two places. They, like terrestrial creatures,
required sleep, during which they crushed up together in circles with
their heads and bodies touching.

In a short time there dawned on the horizon a long, dark streak of
blue-grey, with touches of white, unmistakably sea, and here they
pulled up for a day or so, during which they obtained dredgings
and samples of the water at various depths. The water was salt and
contained a considerable quantity of iodine. Several small fishes had
found their way into the boxes which collected the samples of water,
and amongst them were numbers of many new varieties of spirilla,
radiata and the like, while the dredgings in various places brought
up corals, pearl-oysters, granite, gravel, iron pyrites and the
like, as well as many new forms of deep-sea life, all of which added
considerably to the unique collection already on board.

The sea-shore was bounded by rocks, sand and shingle, on and amongst
which were found sea-urchins and sea-squirts, also jelly-fish and many
other forms of amœbæ. The water was wonderfully clear, showing deep
grey-blue when in bulk, and though the waves were apparently the same
as those of Earth-seas, they were found to go to the very bottom, yet
there seemed to be no tide. The rocks were covered with barnacles,
limpets, sea-weeds and other sea-growths; they were wet to a fixed
level only, except where splashed by the lapping water or the waves
driven by the wind; there had been no evidence anywhere of a tide, and
the water was in a state of calm, but as they approached the further
hemisphere, the character and motion gradually changed, and at that
portion almost opposite the place where they had first landed, although
there were still no tides, the waves were so awful and so mighty as to
make the sea altogether unnavigable. It seemed as if each wave was a
great tidal wave caused by the eruption of volcanoes under the sea-bed,
or some other upheaval of the ocean, for so far as the eye could reach
were waves rising in blocks, as if great slabs of water had been cut
out of the ocean, and these were being pushed along the top as solid
things which tore along in walls seventy or eighty feet high, rolling
great rocks before them as if they were seeds, their crests for ten or
twenty feet deep white with foam. Straight up from the beach a wave
would roar till its energy was spent, when suddenly breaking, it fell,
an avalanche of water, in an overwhelming flood, and the shore became
a huge cauldron of foam. Quickly this subsided, leaving the rocky bed
as if filtered through, its place soon to be taken by the next wave,
and so on unceasingly, without any abatement, the sea from its inmost
depths being lifted up and almost turned upside down. So powerful was
the force of these waves and so sudden their break, that though the
travellers spent several days trying to get samples of deep-sea water
and dredgings of the ocean bed, everything they let down was lost,
wrenched away by the awful rush of these terrible waves, which were
wonderful even in calm, but when driven by the wind they were beyond
description, and one could not keep the thought out of the mind that if
on the shore, and in search of some of the wondrous stones and seaweed
brought up with each wave, a rush had been made between the waves to
snatch the treasure before it was reclaimed by the ocean, once the
safe ground had been left, the sudden inrush of the succeeding wave
would be so appalling as to terrify into inaction, though but a stride
from safety, for these waves did not flow as do those of Earth, but
came to their limits as a solid, and then suddenly stood and fell. Any
one venturing too near and seeing this wall of water come towering
along would become rooted to the spot with fear, powerless to do aught
but give an agonised cry for help—the help that could never come to
any one on that lonely shore; nothing but a pounding to pulp under the
thousands of tons of water that must fall, striking like an almighty
hammer.

Such is the inner sun-sea—an awful thing—a thing to remember with
dread—a thing which to think of precludes sleep or, entering into it,
produces a horrible nightmare, in which the feet are fast in a rock, or
held there by some rock-wedged crab, or sunk in the sand, or as heavy
as lead; and the eyes start and the body becomes damp with agony, a
mere foretaste of the watery grave which is even then preparing—the
nerves so shaken as to be temporarily paralysed, and, unable to run,
crawl or move, or even to shout, the victim stands inert and hopeless;
unable to do anything but think and watch the avalanche rush forward
and mount high overhead; and just when the wave breaks, and the tons of
water are falling and crushing the very limbs apart, the capacity to
step aside returns, too tardily to benefit; the voice comes too late to
save, for no help is possible; yet help does come, for the cry brings
wakefulness again, and one is thankful to live a little longer and go
to one’s long home in some more restful way. Yet it is only fancy, and
a matter of little moment whether, when that time comes, we cross the
river with a wild and agonising wrench, or enter into rest lying on
our own bed, nestled in some loving arms, our hands held by those whom
only, in the whole of creation, it is hard to leave. In either case we
go, and though this world is so hard for many that it is a matter of
very little concern _how_ the end comes, providing it does come, and
quickly, so that the rest and quietness found on the bosom of dear,
kind Mother Earth are granted; yet somehow, we are all of us weak, and
life is so hard, so full of pain and suffering, with so little comfort,
that we cannot keep down the hope that the end will be quiet and happy,
merely “a sleeping and a forgetting,” and surely a hard and cruel fate
will not deny that one isolated happiness to its victims.

Such thoughts come to many, not that they show a morbid or unhealthy
fancy, but because life, though apparently full of glowing happiness,
is, to the majority of those who are strictly honest, but a weary time
of toil and trouble, a time of endless struggle and pain; all battle
and strife and strenuous effort to exist, till actually to ‘live’ would
seem paradise: life to such is a period of giving up with a smile all
that it holds dear, though the throat chokes and the eyes blind with
scalding tears at every recollection; a period in which the close
friend may prove to be the devil; a period in which those in whom trust
is placed, and from whom advice is sought, betray their trust, and add
to treachery counsel that will enable them to plunder their confiding
victim, sinking every spark of honour, along with all people with whom
they come in contact, if by so doing they can benefit themselves or
rise higher. When friends prove false and age creeps on, and both soul
and body are less able to bear the strain, it becomes harder and ever
harder to keep both together, and torn and tired hearts cry, “O Lord,
how long!” and the soul is overwhelmed till it “longs for rest, yet
rest can never find”; longs for love and sympathy, and instead,

    “The purposes of life misunderstood
     Baffle and wound us”—

and the honest are ever the tiny flowers, whilst the callous and wicked
are the spreading bay-tree, and the unsolvable problem—Why? makes the
injustice of it the more keenly felt. For are not all precepts, from
childhood onwards, to the effect that honesty is the best policy? Yet
in real life, the honest, straight man always comes off worst in his
dealings with unscrupulous people, and he is invariably the loser, for
he will not stoop to their actions, so the conditions are not equal,
and as Longfellow so aptly says,—

    “Force rules the world still.
     Has ruled it, shall rule it;
     Meekness is weakness,
     Strength is triumphant;
     Over the whole earth
     Still is it Thor’s Day!”

To such contemplations did the appearance of the awful sun-sea give
rise, for it was like the friend, the counsellor, and any or all of
those who mean to grow rich anyhow, even at the price of another’s
blood; it waged a terrible and one-sided fight, itself always the
victor—it would relentlessly crush and batter and overwhelm all in
its path; rise it must; progress it must; and woe to that which stood
in its way, for without feeling, without an atom of sentiment or
veneration, that obstacle would be swept away, or if that were not
possible, because too firmly rooted (by honesty, say, to carry forward
the simile), it would be absorbed and covered, and though it might
to a slight extent retard the onward rush, it would be unceasingly
beaten and torn, and if not forced aside, worn away and, throughout, be
virtually non-existent.

The _Regina_ sailed round this strange world, encountering sea, land,
moor and wood; birds, animals and insects innumerable, none greatly
differing from those of Earth, but apparently it was a world given up
to all forms of life except man, and was undoubtedly the purer and
better for it.

Finding no trace of human beings, the explorers turned their attention
to the study of the physical conditions of the world; its natural
history, biology, climate, geology, and the scores of other matters on
which they were anxious to glean information, although this could only
be done in a superficial way, seeing they were human and the span of
their lives was limited.

While they were looking for human beings, they found none, but as the
weeks passed they were conscious, at times, of having seen strange
figures in a kind of mist, or haze. In each case the travellers made
no mention of the incident, fearing to incur the ridicule of their
companions and putting the matter down to an excess of ‘bile’ in the
system, or to fancy, produced, perhaps, by the state of excitement in
which they had lived for some months past. However, it came out at
last. One evening—if a constant light can have an evening—they were all
assembled in the saloon for their usual discussion on the day’s work
and the progress made, preparatory to going to rest, when the subject
of ghosts was mentioned, and there were many furtive looks around.

“I suppose we are safe?” asked Kelman of Dennis, who was seated beside
him.

“Certainly; we are closed up—fifty feet from the ground with the
protecting current outside; nothing could reach us, and we could not be
successfully attacked. These precautions are never omitted under any
circumstances, no matter which of us chances to be in charge.”

“I am glad of that,” said Kelman, and then remained silent, absorbed in
thought.

“Why, what makes you ask that?” questioned Ingle.

“Nothing much,” replied Kelman, “only I had an idea.”

“Well, out with it, then!” cried several.

“I expect you will say I am dreaming, or need a restoring tablet,”
said Kelman, reluctantly, “but several times lately I have had
hallucinations and have seen ghosts!”

“Well, that’s curious,” said Heriot Field, “for I have too!”

“So have I.”

“And I!” “And I!” And so it went round.

“Thanks for the information,” exclaimed Kelman, more brightly. “I am
much relieved! And now the ice is broken, we are all free to compare
notes and discuss the question, because I, personally, do not believe
in ghosts, and yet I cannot refute what I see myself.”

Here he paused for some others to recount their experience, but as
all were looking to him to continue, he proceeded,—“For several weeks
past, when I have been intent on some work and completely absorbed, I
have suddenly looked aside to find close by me, one or two, or perhaps
half a dozen or more, strange beings, not human and not inhuman but a
kind of glorified ‘essence’—a ‘nebula’—out of focus, tangible and yet
ethereal—and I have looked, lost in amazement, thinking our hard work
and close application had upset my nerves, and to be frank with you
all, I began to wonder if I was going mad!”

He looked round, and Coombes rejoined,—“I have had similar visions and
I wondered what was the import of it, judging it was my imagination,
purely and simply”; and most of the others said the same.

“Have any of you ever seen these beings except when completely
engrossed in other matters?” asked Reeve.

“No!” no one had.

“Then it seems to me,” continued Reeve, “that these beings are not
under our influence, or we under theirs unless our minds are blank, so
to speak.” “Something like that,” agreed Rutherford. “I should say the
people are much better than ourselves—angels, in fact—for they have a
kind of ‘glory’ round them, and when addressed they become fainter and
die away.”

“It’s a strange thing,” observed Godfrey, “if in the future life we
have to become nebulous and float about doing nothing particular
except frighten any folk who chance to come along by turning up when
they’re not expecting us, and vanish when they ask us what the deuce
we mean by it—as I did several lots of them. The idea is rather thin
and unsatisfactory to my mind, and I should have thought there would be
something better for us to do!”

“We ought to get to the bottom of this mystery!” remarked Farrant,
seriously. “When we look for beings they are not there; we none of us
see them, unless our minds are, not a blank, but entirely preoccupied
to _their_ total exclusion; when we accost them they begin to fade.
All this seems to me to point to hallucinations, brought on by our
experiences, close application, and the perhaps somewhat morbid
influence of this inhabited, but unpeopled world.”

“I think the same,” assented Ingle; “and the fact that we have been so
eager to find man has, in some mysterious way, stamped itself on our
minds to such an extent that when strained or much preoccupied, there
comes a reaction in a vision of the things desired.”

“Yes, that may be granted in an isolated case, perhaps,” argued Field,
“but when _all_ have the same experience, I fail to see how you obtain
your case.”

“To me that seems its strongest point,” responded Ingle, “for though
we experience no strain, as a physical sensation, there is no possible
doubt that the tension of the last few months must have told on us,
and made us fanciful.”

“But all seeing the same?” repeated Field.

“A mere matter of telepathy,” replied Ingle. “All being in the same
physical condition at the particular moment of total abstraction, ready
to be impressed by the same thing, by pure transmission of thought.”

“I agree with you, Ingle,” said Reeve, “yet such impressions usually
are only transmissible and receivable when the mind is a blank.”

“That is so,” continued Ingle, “but the acme of receptiveness is
reached at the identical moment of the acme of concentration, whether
that state is brought about by the concentration of nothingness or that
of serious abstraction. The result is the same: for that identical
moment the mind is a blank.”

“And that moment is when the hallucination takes place, you think?”
asked Reeve.

“So it seems to me,” Ingle replied.

“I do not see it,” observed Rutherford, quietly; “neither in dreams
nor in any other manner do people see what is beyond or, I should say,
‘above’ their actual experience.”

“I fear you’ll have to explain that,” said Coombes.

“What I mean is this,” continued Rutherford; “you never, say, dream
of what is _beyond_ your experience, or of doing something you do not
previously know how to do, or of seeing correctly something of which
no previous and similar object has come within your experience or
crossed your vision; when that point comes,—when all previous knowledge
or suggestion ceases, then you will wake. Nor is there evidence,
even in telepathy with excellent mediums, of going beyond scenes and
objects which have come within the knowledge of the medium by sight or
description.”

“What about mediums telling of heaven—of angels—by actual sight?”
queried Ingle.

“Nothing of the kind! they merely relate the impressions given, and in
this age of telepathy, when we can transmit thought all over the world,
it is _known_ thought, and we do not get beyond it.”

“But angels!”

“Exactly the same thing. We cannot soar above our own knowledge, yet
we want to show human beings in a higher beatitude, so we make them
sexless and there arises a difficulty as to which sex they shall be
like, so we clothe the body with a long, white robe, and show only the
feet, making the faces clear so as to stand either for a woman or a
beardless man, for you must all admit that it would look incongruous
to represent angels with strongly marked features and nicely trimmed
beards and waxed moustachios!”

“How would you represent an angel, then, Rutherford?” asked Coombes,
laughing.

“I could not do better. No one could, for the simple reason I gave
before. We cannot soar beyond actual experience without being
ridiculous; we have never seen higher beings, and therefore what they
are like we cannot even imagine, for our fancy stops at ourselves, and
the best we can do is to make spirits, angels, and all higher beings,
like ourselves, but shorn of our carnal portions, and compromise the
matter.”

“Then you think angels and spirits are not like us, and need not be of
anything like our form?” questioned Ingle.

“Certainly not necessarily so,” answered Rutherford, and looking across
at Godfrey, he went on,—“I don’t want to intrude on the ground of the
biological section, but in the case of the caterpillar it does not
follow, necessarily, that its next life shall be that of another and
better caterpillar, and yet if it could answer the question it would
be sure to say that it would be a better caterpillar, with perhaps a
few more legs, for being accustomed to crawl all its life, it would
scarcely be likely to imagine that a future phase would be flying in
the sunshine, or the twilight, as the case might be, in an element of
which it could not know the existence as a crawling grub, or resting
pupa. This is a wonderful feature, and a few moments’ thought will show
how exceedingly difficult it is to conceive of a glorified human being
in any different shape to ourselves, without mutilating or degrading
the race. If we take the mental qualities and glorify them, we but
make the figure a brainy idiot, with a palsied body, his appearance
revolting to every sense of feeling and delicacy. If we take his skill
in work and glorify this by extending the power to exercise that skill
and confer on man a multiplicity of arms and legs, we merely form a
Hindoo idol; if his sight, and increase that, or in any way tamper
with him mentally or physically, we make nothing more than a revolting
heathen god. If we try to alter his shape and mode of movement, adding
a few more limbs, and make him creep, crawl or fly, we degrade him.
Finding all these things ruled out we take his limitless thought and
soul, and, knowing that thought can travel up to God, we give him
wings and make an angel of him, as mentioned at first—and that is man
as he is, with scarcely any alteration; because no one can suggest
any beautifying and ennobling variation apart from the present figure
of man, and yet there _is_ a Power in Creation which is not figure
or flesh. No man has seen this Power at any time, yet no one who has
eyes or a thinking brain can do other than feel it everywhere. For
instance, who can define ‘space’ in the universe? We get instrument
after instrument, each more powerful than the last, and in each one we
may begin another and more distant space where the previous instrument
ended, and when we have discovered millions of miles of space in all
directions, we are only at the beginning of it—if space can have a
beginning—and our finite brains almost burst at the effort to grasp and
actually realise ‘Infinity’—to understand how far it can extend and
what it contains. We know the Spirit of God is there and is part of,
and _in_, all Creation; but because no man has seen God, or can form
the slightest idea of describing such a Spirit without being profane,
he can only regard the conception in the abstract, as a ‘Spirit,’
or ‘Influence’—yet is it only ‘Influence’ that makes and orders the
universe, our knowledge of which is so infinitesimal that the combined
learning of the whole Earth is not so much as one grain in comparison
with the weight of our world. And because of this incapacity of the
human mind to grasp the idea of higher beings, we are compelled to
represent them as ourselves, slightly improved—as we think it.

“Still one more instance. Many will have been present at the death of
some near relation or friend, and as the end draws near, the sight
seems to enter futurity, and yet not one of these has been able to tell
us a single word of what is beyond this life, or to what the soul is
going. Yet the dying spirit _would_ be glad to do so, _would_ gladly
do us all the good possible, but the lips are sealed, and we shall
never know till the same psychical moment has arrived for each of us,
and our own dissolution is near. All that we know is that whatever the
‘home’ is, or wherever it is situated, the mere sight of it fills the
departing soul with an indescribable peace and a longing for possession
so holy, so lovely, and so welcome, that mere mortal lips cannot speak
of it, neither can the heart conceive of it—only the ‘soul’ understands
and grudges every moment spent out of the ‘rest,’ which would be too
disturbing for us to see, or to do aught but conjecture about before
we are almost entering. For it would be too disturbing to our peace of
mind to be compelled to live out our allotted time in this existence,
knowing positively all the while that in each after-phase we should be
working at that for which we are most fitted, and all this without any
of the storm, strife and turmoil of this life. Under these conditions,
such future work would be perfect rest and peace to us, in comparison
with the present, and would also be in such a transcendently higher
degree as to be altogether inconceivable to us while in this life.”

Rutherford ceased, and for a few minutes no one broke the silence, when
Reeve asked,—“Then what do you infer from that in the present case?”

“That beings are here,” answered Rutherford; “real spirits, of a far
higher grade than ourselves!”

“And that being so, we can only see them in our higher and more serious
moments of thought?” suggested Godfrey.

“Yes,” replied Rutherford, “and because of our inferiority, in
that peculiar psychical moment when our brain is at its zenith of
concentration, as Ingle put it, we are elevated out of ourselves, and
see those beings who are even now around us in a way we can neither
describe nor recall. Kelman hit it on exactly by his simile of a
‘nebulous glory,’ an ‘indescribable something’—and that is all I can
say.”

“From that point of view, the return to a lower psychical state or zone
causes them to vanish by the inferiority of ourselves?” said Sorrel.

“I should say so, for they are beyond our ken, except in the rare
moments when we, mentally, get nearer their level, and then a faint
radiance of their glory becomes visible to us!”

“And you would take it, Rutherford,” questioned Rollsborough, “that
we, as we are normally, never could get more than a nebulous idea, or
vision, of a higher life, even under favourable circumstances?”

“I do not see that it is possible, but of course I have never given the
subject a thought before; this is only my own idea, deduced from the
present experience.”

“It would, of course, naturally follow that at the very best, the
glimpse we get might be nebulous, but never _could_ be sufficiently
distinct to enable us to form even a mental idea of what a spirit
really is, seeing we are mortal?” pursued Rollsborough.

“I should say not, myself, judging from past experience and the
ever-present impossibility of the human mind to explain the unknown.”

“Possibly there may be something in the air, or in the spirit of this
world, that renders us more susceptible to outside influences,” put in
Godfrey.

“The magnetic influence is very strong,” said Dennis, as he stepped
back from looking at the dial.

“It is possible,” remarked Sorrel, “that the tremendous forces above
are here diverted to make the world habitable.”

“That opens out another difficulty—a difficulty to me, that is,” said
Godfrey. “I remember what you told me about the creation of worlds,
Sorrel, and if the sun is so much younger than our own Earth—in its
infancy, in fact—how can you account for a staid old world like this
being in his stomach—a world which is quite the age of our own, judging
from the landscape, trees and animals, all of which are practically of
our period—and if this has been formed like Earth, what is it doing
here?”

“That is, indeed, a mystery,” said Sorrel; “strange to say,
Rollsborough mentioned the very same thing to me a few days ago. He
said it had been troubling him for a week or two, but I must confess
the idea never occurred to me till he spoke of it. Since then we have
had a good deal of talk on the subject between ourselves, but we are
not certain of our ground yet.”

“But have you no idea?” asked Godfrey. “It seems to me inexplicable.
What do you think about it, Rollsborough?”

“I must confess myself at sea, Spenser,” was the reply. “I am like
Sorrel; for want of proof, there is only conjecture, and conjecture is
not safe.”

“Could we get proof?”

“I fear not; it would mean staying here for years and years. You see,
Spenser, on Earth each succeeding generation adds a little knowledge to
that left by its predecessors, but only a little, and in our work and
studies, we of the present time reap the benefit of the experience and
discovery of ages,—of history which was mere ‘happenings’ at the time,
though we of later date see all these fit in like segments of a wheel,
and so the world wags! but to begin studying geological structure and
scores of other sciences, from _nothing_, would take many a lifetime to
get any kind of results. Is not that so, Sorrel?”

“I regret to say it is,” Sorrel replied; “it would be just as hopeless
for you, in your life-time, to hunt up, classify, and elucidate the
life-history of every fly and grub and bacillus on this planet, from
the very beginning.”

“Just so, Sorrel, but tell us what you think; how it _may_ have come
here. Has the sun blown out and the internal nitrogen and what not
developed this kernel more rapidly?”

“I don’t like stating mere theories, Spenser,” answered Sorrel,
smiling, “but as you press me I will tell you what I imagine has been
the case. The only thing I can conceive as being in any way possible
is that the sun may have been formed by an extremely large planet
attracting to its mass another large planet of less gravity, the impact
forming this present sun. If a portion of one of the worlds, however,
embedded itself in the centre by probably an earthquake at the moment
of impact, there would be no immediate contact, and consequently no
immediate fusion of this portion, but directly the contact came,
perhaps less than a second later, there would be instant cohesion, and
also instant expansion of the parts brought into contact, which would
allow the embedding portion to touch nothing; it would strike to the
centre and remain there, because it would then have reached equally
opposing forces all round, and would commence to float and revolve in
space enveloped by the atmosphere projected with it, and probably some
instant conversion of some of the nitrates, or metallic portions of
the immense globule, would create a crust and generate a deep layer
of nitrogen, which would prevent further combustion downwards; the
ordinary breathable air below would remain there, with only a slight
intermingling in the extreme upper strata, which are further held in
place and away from the atmosphere here by that wonderful zone of thick
clouds which so deceived us, they forming natural shields, or vanes. In
any case, the cold centre would cause the outer crust to move away from
it, and expand, and conduce to the cooling of the crust, as would also
the nitrogen, being a non-supporter of combustion; the world itself
would become comparatively round and revolve as our Earth does, in its
own atmosphere. Then the usual cycle of waste and repair would follow,
and the air be made and kept sweet and fresh; the animal kingdom would
give out carbonic-acid gas and inhale oxygen, whilst the vegetable
kingdom would inhale carbonic acid and exhale oxygen, thus each kingdom
giving out as a waste product that which was necessary to the existence
of the other, as on Earth, the general health and safety of both
kingdoms being thus maintained, for each is indispensable to the other.

“This is my explanation, and though it may seem to you at first thought
somewhat fanciful, I believe it is the one and only correct solution,
and it is at least a scientific possibility that will bear argument.”

After airing opinions, and discussing the pros and cons of every
argument brought forward, they all retired, soon to be lost in slumber.

For several weeks longer they continued their work of observation and
the collecting of specimens, still feeling, and at times seeing, their
nebulous friends, and in vain they tried to solve the problem “why had
they not felt the presences before, when they had been working so long
under similar conditions?”

As the weeks sped on, there began to be signs of failing health in the
party; for the first time, first one and then another had to take a
day’s rest, lying in his cabin. Although no pain was felt, there was
prostration. Then this increased, and the day off extended into two
or three at a time, the usual remedies altogether failing to restore
chemical and physical balance. Finally, this came to such a pass that
only half the number were working, Dennis himself being too ill to
leave his cabin. Connecting this strange occurrence with something
unknown in the air or emanating from the ground, they decided that
it would be wise to leave, and bringing the work in hand to a speedy
close, they entered the ship, fastened the net securely, and started
the return journey with Dennis and half a dozen others ill in their
berths. They had made all aërial observations in coming, so there
was nothing to retard their progress; Ross took first turn at the
switchboard, and a few minutes later they were rapidly ascending to the
terrible heat and pressures and turbulence of the sun’s surface.

Even as they ascended, the conditions of the invalids improved, and by
the time the windows needed further masking they were able to sit up
for a while, from which it was evident they had left behind something
inimical to them.

It had long been a subject of keen controversy whether the sun was
solid, liquid or gaseous. It had been proved previously not to be
solid, at least not entirely so, and, consequently, was generally
accepted as being part gaseous and part either solid. or liquid,
excellent and almost indisputable scientific proof having been
forthcoming from the exponents of both theories, and as there was
so much that was doubtful, the partisans of both beliefs could each
make their case good in unanswerable argument. The adventures of the
explorers, the continuous photographs in colour, and the spectrum
photographs of the whole of the travels over the sun’s surface and the
actual descent, would, when reproduced on the scoposolograph machine,
show living, moving pictures in colour of the whole voyage, thus
elucidating completely many of the mysteries of the sun, the mighty
ruler and light-giver of the Solar system.




                               CHAPTER XV

                              _JOCI CAUSÂ_


                    “Look, the world tempts our eye
                     And we would know it all.”
                                          (+Arnold.+)

As the _Regina_ arose amongst the flames or protuberances of the planet
they were leaving, they saw several violent eruptions, the dense masses
of flames in the chromosphere being sent upwards to measured heights of
half a million miles, and as they passed high into the corona, which
dyed the interior of the ship with gorgeous colour notwithstanding the
darkened windows, again they found the sun’s mass to cut off the whole
sight of the heavens, and later still to be but a vast horizon, then
a great disc behind them, from which the blackened heavens extended
into limitless space. One evening as they were sitting in the saloon
for their customary chat, Ross said, casually,—“We must now set
about finding our mutineers and take them home!” which remark caused
considerable comment, for, strange to say, so absorbed had they all
been in the wonders they encountered every day that the thought of the
mutineers had scarcely crossed their minds, and Ross’s simple remark
came upon them as a surprise.

“I suppose you have got sufficiently correct bearings to locate the
position of the world on which we left them?” asked Dalton.

“Yes,” responded Rollsborough, “it will be comparatively easy to find
when we reach the orbit of Venus. We shall have to follow in the wake
of the planet a little, that will be all.”

“How shall we locate it?” inquired Rutherford.

“It was a ‘Nova,’ or new star, which had been drawn into the orbit of
Venus and attracted to that planet.”

“But it was between Venus and the sun as seen from Earth?” said Dalton.

“That was so,” assented Rollsborough; “but that was mere coincidence;
it will be encircling Venus as a new satellite or forming a binary or
double planet, and consequently be easy to find.”

“But supposing it is not easy to find, what then?” said Rutherford,
laughing.

“We got its position too carefully to make any mistake,” replied
Rollsborough, also laughing. “Sorrel and several others of us worked
the thing out independently, then compared notes and all were the same.
I think we need have no fear.”

“It would be decidedly awkward if it’s gone, certainly!” chimed in
Sorrel, “but that is scarcely likely. We tested its progress and
gravity, and it was following exactly the planet Venus; and, if you
remember, we followed it up for some time after we had sighted it,
testing it in every way before we landed our rebels. I don’t think
there can be any doubt.”

“None at all,” rejoined Ross, “we are sure to find it when we see
Venus.”

Very soon the screens could be taken from the windows; that portion of
the net covering the glass of the saloon and observatory had been made
so that it could be drawn aside or tightly secured from the inside,
and as the ship was some distance from the sun, the de-atomising and
repelling forces projected outside were now thought to be sufficient
to keep the ship secure, so these portions of the net were released
and observation was now possible all over the universe, as during the
first part of their outward journey. Venus was soon sighted, and along
with her a second world, forming a ‘double.’

“There she is!” cried several, excitedly. “There’s the planet we want,
still alongside,” and all rushed to the windows; but the greater
experience of Rollsborough and Sorrel discovered something, the
communication of which caused general consternation. They went to the
windows and at the first glance, Rollsborough exclaimed, “that’s not
the planet, that’s not a ‘binary’! the world we want is not there; now
what shall we do!”

“Not there!” repeated several, incredulously. “Why, we can see it!”

“That star is a long way past Venus! it is a ‘double’! get your glasses
and look,” said Sorrel.

A rush was made to the observatory telescope and to the windows with
hand-glasses, when Rollsborough was proved to be right. Examination
showed that the new star, planet, or satellite of Venus had vanished,
and what they were examining was a large and distant star, the position
of which chanced to be close behind Venus ‘in line of sight,’ appearing
to be in the same plane, just as when two boats sailing down a river,
one in the middle and the other near the middle would, when viewed from
a distant bridge in line with the way they were travelling, or ‘end
on,’ appear as if sailing abreast, when in reality one might be a mile
before the other, which a change of position would show. So it was with
Venus; for some time the two stars seemed to be travelling together,
when a slight alteration in the _Regina’s_ position showed Venus
sailing rapidly to one side, whilst her supposed companion remained
fixed, ‘in line’ with the bows of the vessel—a distant star—the angle
of distance between the two worlds becoming wider and wider every
moment. Venus was lacking her previous attendant, and the occupants of
the _Regina_ looked at each other in dismay.

“Our friends stand a fair chance of settling down permanently in their
new quarters,” said Godfrey, nonchalantly; “they are not at all likely
to mutiny here again.”

This set every one smiling, notwithstanding the seriousness of the
situation, and Rowland exclaimed, “How shall we set about finding the
runaway!”

No one could offer a satisfactory reply at the moment, so Godfrey
continued, laughing, “We ought to have chalked it!” and turning to
Dennis and his chums, “this beats the Jupiter affair altogether,
triad!” at which the three laughed sheepishly, and on the others
inquiring what was meant, Godfrey explained,—“Some years ago, Oakland,
Ainley, and Eastern took me to Jupiter to find a particular grub that
was to give us the material for the outer net, and the only address
they had was ‘one special grub, species unknown, Jupiter’; they had no
more information, in fact they were not quite sure if it _was_ Jupiter,
as if we could go round asking all the planets if they’d got a grub to
sell! I thought that showed a superb mind for detail, but this takes
all the shine out of it, we’ve dumped the folk down and where are
they? ‘eight denizens of Earth, a star, the universe,’ is a most lucid
address! shall we go there, Denny?” and as Godfrey made some further
similar remarks, Dennis cried, “Shut up, Godfrey! it’s no laughing
matter.”

“It looks it, old man,” answered Godfrey, as he sat tilted back on a
chair with his toes just touching the floor. “We’re all serious, and
we ‘appreciate your joke’ as the wave message there says; I see it is
still up. It is a joke worthy of any of us.”

For reply, Dennis shied an air-cushion at him; he caught it and placing
it at his back, continued, beaming,—“Thanks, dear boy! I’m glad to see
you’ve got an eye to your old chum’s comfort on this most solemn and
serious occasion.”

“Oh! stop it, Godfrey!” exclaimed Ross, “you’ll kill us all! I can’t
laugh any more!”

“Ay, do be serious!” said Gilbert, dabbing the tears of laughter out of
his eyes, his expression belying the words, “it’s no laughing matter!
we’ve put those fellows on a world which we’ve got to find, and how are
we to do it amongst the lot outside?”

“Oh, easily enough!” replied Godfrey, airily, with a wave of his arm,
“take the lot in rotation and knock at each one, and ask if eight of
the wickedest and cleverest men of Earth are there, and if so, can they
come out? it’s simple enough!”

This renewed the laughter, and another cushion came flying across the
room, this time from Gilbert, as Ross said,—

“Stop it, Godfrey, or we shall be ill! you look after your grubs and
leave us to find the runaways.”

“Oh, very well!” responded Godfrey, pretending to take offence. “What
did Gilbert ask me for if he didn’t want to know? there’s been some
mighty brain at work to provide us with this entertainment! was it
yours, Denny? it’s worthy of you, my boy, although by the quality of
it, you’ve all three had a hand in it.”

After a little more banter all round, the travellers discussed the
situation more seriously. In the first place, the star was accompanying
Venus, and at no great distance, comparatively. For millions of miles
the _Regina_ had gone out of her course so that the voyagers could
test, retest, and confirm its position and movement, and so far as
human means could ascertain, Venus had permanently attached to herself
a satellite. As seen from Earth Venus would now be a morning star
rising nearly four hours before the sun; for some weeks previously she
had been moving to the left, crossing the constellation Leo and was, on
that particular day close to β in Virgo; she had only just passed the
period of her greatest brilliancy as a morning star, and from Earth
would appear like a crescent moon. Between Venus and β in Virgo this
‘Nova,’ or satellite, should now be seen, for the first plan, drawn
before the mutineers were landed, had been most carefully compiled; the
exact spot was now marked on the plan, but no star was there. Again
were the calculations checked over, and again the result showed the
position as being between Venus and β in Virgo, as now seen from Earth.

“We shall have to do something!” exclaimed Rollsborough. “We cannot
return to Earth and leave our fellow creatures to their fate.”

“Certainly not!” replied Dennis, “but what are we to do? We are still
racing rapidly onward with the impetus obtained from the sun; we can
slow up by converting the repulsive force into attractive, but we shall
lose the speed and cannot get it again until we come to some world from
whose gravity we can get a rebound. It is impossible for us to stand
still in space; we can only do that when within the force of gravity of
some other world.”

“Can you alter direction?” asked Sorrel.

“Yes, to a certain extent, but every deviation in space means loss of
speed, and we may now be going miles out of the right course every
second,” answered Gilbert, as they all stood talking together and
asking all manner of questions.

“_We_ are not lost,” remarked Ross, “but we are practically in the same
state when in any and every direction we go we may be wrong.”

“If we turn, can you get force enough to travel, and if we stop, what
would happen? annihilation?”

“We can turn, certainly,” was the reply, “but as Oakland says, we shall
lose speed we cannot regain, and if we lost all, we should have little
or no de-atomising force and only a slight repelling force, and be
thrown entirely on our engines, which now we use only in atmosphere;
with a speed of a few hundred miles an hour obtained in this way it
would take us years to get anywhere, almost. We should have to become
negative and allow ourselves to be drawn into the gravity of the
nearest large star, which in this case is the sun, and we should fly
back on to his surface like a comet.”

“Then we should be lost?”

“No, for we should set the compensating current ready for whatever
might draw us, and whenever sufficiently near for it to act, we should
have full power again.”

“Then there is no real danger to us, in any case?” questioned Reeve.

“No, not to us; the only difficulty is the loss of time. We shall lose
speed by turning, but so long as we reserve enough power to return to
the sun, or do not go outside his influence, we can always get more
force, but it is obvious that we cannot waste all our time going back
to get fresh starts, and it seems to me that that is what it amounts
to if we cannot locate the position of the world we are in search of.
The idea of hunting up one world in infinity, as Godfrey put it, is
appalling!”

Ross looked at his companions for suggestions, but no one had any to
make, so Dennis repeated, “What can we do? we are perhaps going further
off every second, and it would be madness to rush here and there on the
bare chance of any one of these millions of stars being the particular
one we seek.”

“Could we not compare the photographs we are taking now with those
taken in coming? They would give us the progress and course of the star
in question,” suggested Godfrey. “Rollsborough, here, would work out
where that star is now from the course of its orbit.”

This suggestion was acted upon immediately, but after leaving the
planet the ship had headed for the sun, and the shielded lenses were
round the bows, so that when they turned, the planet being then at the
stern all view of it ended with their departure.

“Could you tell by the heavens now, compared with the relative position
in coming, whether any new stars are there?” again suggested Godfrey;
but Rollsborough shook his head, replying, “It is not possible; the
heavens are changing momentarily, and to calculate the positions of all
the stars, so that we could locate every one at any given moment, would
take too long for us to consider the attempt even. Besides, we have
seen thousands of new stars not visible to Earth, and these would have
to be explained before we could hope even to guess at the right one,
and as Ainley and Oakland say, it would be madness to guess.”

However, Rollsborough, Sorrel, and several others did make many
calculations as to the relative positions their ship bore on the
outward journey to their present position, but the results were far
from encouraging, as were several special photographs, though the
latter were of great service to science, for in addition to the many
new stars seen with the naked eye, the searching lenses revealed many
distant ones of varying magnitude, invisible from Earth by reason of
their distance, or of other stars intervening.

It was most difficult to arrive at location in space, for what on
Earth appeared as groups and constellations by reason of being viewed
in ‘line of sight’ ceased to be such when amongst them. Finally,
Rollsborough said to Dennis, “How would it be to ‘wave’ to Earth, and
inquire if they observed the phenomenon of the new satellite of Venus?
If they have had it under observation, and if they know where it has
gone?”

At once this wise suggestion was carried into effect, and a few hours
later came the answer,—“For a short time preceding the date given,
Venus was scarcely visible here, being very low down in Sagittarius,
and was an evening star. She set twenty minutes after the sun,
gradually extending the time to two hours as she slowly passed into
Capricornus. She was at the opposite side of the sun from Earth,
and was most brilliantly illumined; though small, her disc was so
exceedingly and unusually bright as to excite general and keen
examination, especially as she was moving a little to the south of
Saturn. They being so near together, the effect was very marked, and,
entering the small space between the two planets, there appeared a new
object which we took to be a moon, either of Venus or Saturn. For ten
days after that, the weather prevented further observation, the skies
being overshadowed with clouds. On the eleventh day the light was bad,
though better; Saturn was too near the sun for successful observation,
and the extra moon was not noticed. Then he passed behind the sun (in
conjunction) and became invisible for five weeks. Venus was obliterated
by thick clouds and for several days no observation was possible, then
the sky cleared, and Venus was passed by Luna, but no new object was
visible. Can you explain the new object?”

There the message ended and left them in the same difficulty as before.
Though from Earth, Saturn and Venus had the appearance of being close
together, when viewed from the ship in space their great distance apart
could be realised, but could Saturn, at his enormous distance, have
wrested a planet from Venus, who was comparatively close to the sun?
It did not seem possible. Or had the sun drawn the new planet to his
surface, it being between him and Venus? If so, then search could not,
of course, be successful, no matter how protracted, for the world would
but have swollen a small portion of the sun-sea, scarcely making any
difference.

“Do you think it was merely drawn into the orbit of Venus for the time
being, and then flung out, to go travelling onward?” asked Dalton.

“It is impossible to say,” responded Rollsborough. “In the time since
we left many things may have happened, meteor-swarms and dozens of
other things may have drawn it away.”

“Are the fellows worth troubling about?” debated Field. “Considering
their offence, are we justified in wasting time looking for them?”

“Perhaps not,” said Dennis, “but we must get them if at all possible.”

“Then if you have the exact position of the heavens when they were
dumped on this moon, could you not calculate its present position from
its previous movement?”

“That we have done,” replied Rollsborough, “and taking into account the
progress, the attraction of Venus, that of the sun, its own gravity,
and the influence and positions of the other members of the solar
family, the previous movement still brings it an attendant on Venus,
and every calculation we make gives that result, yet you see it is
not there! I have tried everything I can think of, so have Sorrel and
several others, but all our results come to Venus, and nowhere else—so
we are nonplussed.”

“You know the attractive power of the world, Oakland?” said Coombes,
“Could you not draw it here?”

Dennis shook his head without answering.

“Would not that be possible?” Coombes persisted.

“No, quite impossible! to attempt to do that would upset the balance of
the whole solar system and bring inconceivable disaster. We should also
attract millions of planetoids, meteor-swarms, and everything of less
power to resist, and be crowded with them on all sides for thousands of
miles.”

“Then what _can_ we do, Oakland?” asked Rowland. “It would take
hundreds of years to go to all the planets we see from here, and every
mile we go brings new ones into view.”

“I am done, Rowland!” replied Dennis, despairingly, “so are we all.
You tell us something, Rollsborough!”

“I am quite in the dark like yourselves, Oakland, and anything I
can suggest must, of necessity, be wild and perhaps reckless, but I
recognise that we ought not to speed along home and perhaps be leaving
the planet we want further afield every second. I have an idea that we
are in some way the cause of the disappearance, and I would like to
work out the world’s present position, taking it to have flown off at a
tangent after we left.”

After what seemed an interminable time, though in reality but a few
minutes, Rollsborough continued,—“This calculation I have made would
show the star to have taken a course directly to a few degrees to the
left of the way we are travelling, and it points to one of these two
stars which we see here on the last photograph, but invisible through
our glasses till we get nearer. I propose that we alter our course
slightly and proceed to one of these uncharted stars lying somewhat to
our left, and trust to chance to find the right one. This will entail
the alteration of but a few degrees, and would not, perhaps, lessen the
ship’s speed appreciably; would it, Oakland?”

“That would not be sufficient to affect it in any way,” answered
Dennis; and a moment later they were heading for a distant star, and
after some days had passed, drew sufficiently near to form some idea of
its orbit. It was travelling rapidly from them, in the same direction,
which accounted for the long time taken to approach its mass, they,
fortunately, travelling at a much greater speed.

On resting in its atmosphere, they obtained samples, to find it
contained constituents unknown on Earth, and every sample analysed by
Earth-methods exploded, and so seriously as to destroy much of the
glass apparatus in the laboratory. Although it was evident human beings
could not exist there, in response to the general desire to explore,
the good ship sank through the atmosphere and hovered about one hundred
feet over the ground, the occupants searching for signs of inhabitants.

As far as their eyes could reach, to the distant horizon, the surface
of the globe was covered with water, and numerous islands, on which
were some fine animals not unlike the now almost extinct horses of
Earth, but with the spreading, palmated antlers of the elk, or moose.
After the first momentary start of surprise, the animals took no notice
of the great ship overhead, but continued their playing in total
unconcern. “If animals like these can breathe the atmosphere, we should
be able to do so,” said Farrant.

“I fear not,” said Gilbert, “the composition is such as we have no
means of ascertaining without considerable research, but we can try it
on the birds.”

All watched as some of the air was collected and one of the sun-birds
was about to be put in, when it was deemed to be too precious to
experiment with, so Reeve called up his dog and tried to put his
head in the receiver, but the dog only thought it a joke and barked
furiously; however, when Reeve dropped a biscuit in the jar and
suddenly released the cap, Dick fetched out his biscuit and ran off
with it to one of the softest rugs, where he could get a good grip and
make a litter of crumbs. Though much of the air in the receiver must
have mixed with that in the ship, there could not have been anything
harmful in it, or Dick would not have tried it, for he was very careful
and left experimenting to other dogs, and then he would fight for the
prize, or, more generally, cause others to do so, snatching it away
while they were busy, for he was a terrier and a born diplomatist. The
air doing Dick no harm, they concluded it would be breathable by them,
though to guard against danger, the large door was thrown open and
quickly closed, but they only felt a slight draught, the air itself
being undistinguishable from that in the vessel. The doors were then
flung wide open and the occupants stepped on the outer deck.

“I should like a run on one of those things,” said Ingle. “Shall we get
down? We can’t do wrong, because they are on that small island.”

The idea was urged by several others and when the vessel came to within
eight or ten feet of the ground, Coombes, Ingle, Kelman, Reeve and
Gardner descended. The animals allowed themselves to be caught, and
vaulting on their backs by the aid of their antlers, the riders got
excellent seats. Whether they were accustomed to being driven, or the
presence of a burden startled them, there was little time to discover,
for no sooner were the riders seated than the horses flourished their
heels and then set off like the wind, with heads lowered and horns
nearly vertical. Shouts of delight came from the daring riders as
they raced onward, surprised and thankful that the animals did not
elevate their heads and thus bring the horns horizontal, in which case
they would have stood an excellent chance of being swept off. On they
went at a break-neck pace, waving their arms and shouting to their
companions above who were watching, with not a little envy, perhaps
excusable. The speed increased as the horses settled down into long,
swinging strides, and now the end of the island was in sight; about
half a mile of water separated it from the next island, but the horses
never slackened pace, and instead of wheeling round and returning, or
following the contour of the island, they rushed madly forward, dashing
straight into the water at full speed, and that which followed made
every one breathless. They did not sink, or at any rate not more than
if they had been on sand, and the flying hoofs cut through the ripples
of water, flinging behind them the crests and splashes of the waves as
if they had been sand.

The surprise of it so overcame Kelman that he let go the antlers, and
at the sudden release the creature lifted up his head, gave it a turn,
and the next instant Kelman was swept off his back, narrowly escaping
being trampled to death by the scores of riderless horses following,
whose flying hoofs, to the horrified gaze of those in the ship, seemed
to be pounding him to a jelly. Instead of sinking, however, he fell
flat with a splash, the water rising all around like sand, but in tiny
globules as of quicksilver, and there he lay floating on the water,
half his body immersed, and the waves lapping gently over him, wetting
him to the skin, he being too surprised to do anything but lie still
and stare around him. Then he essayed to rise, but instead of his feet
sinking, they remained almost where they were, the frustrated action
rolling him over on his face. From this position he got on his hands
and knees, and finally stood up with only his feet slightly sunk, as in
sand on the sea-shore, the water dripping from his nose, chin, elbows
and his clothing.

This water was almost solid, as substantial as the soft sand on a
terrestrial sea-shore, and utterly oblivious to all else in his
astonishment, he stood splashing and slapping the water with his feet
and trying to sink. Then he tasted it, swallowed a mouthful, then
another, and then went down again on his knees digging and wobbling his
hands in an endeavour to bury his arms in the water flowing past, but
he might almost have tried to push them through earth, for he got no
further than the wrists despite his exertions.

Meanwhile the watchers on board the _Regina_, on first seeing that the
horses meant taking to the water, considered it a fine joke, but when
the sight of its wonderful buoyancy followed, they were so surprised
that the herd had passed out of sight into a wood on the next island
almost before they had realised the situation. Quickly following, the
_Regina_ hovered over Kelman, who, apparently forgetting all that
had passed in the moment of surprised discovery, glanced upward and
shouted,—“Look here, you fellows, this water is solid as sand; I’ve
just had a drink and it’s beautiful. Come down, all of you!”

“Where have the others gone?” shouted several from the outer deck.

“The others? oh, ay! the others, to be sure!” he repeated, looking
round in dismay, without the ghost of an idea where they were, and
astonished to find himself alone. “The others? ay! yes, the others? ay,
yes!” and again he looked down and round, and up and down again, as if
he expected them to rise up out of the water, or fall from the sky;
“the others! they’re not here!”

The remarkable wisdom displayed in this statement set every one
laughing, and then Kelman saw the situation himself, and laughed
boisterously, standing all the time in the water, and then said—no
longer abstractedly,—“I was so astonished and absorbed in this
discovery that really for the moment I had quite forgotten everything
else and how I came here. Help me up, you fellows, and don’t stand
grinning there. How can we hunt for them if you grin the time away
like that!” and amidst general laughter he was hauled up, dripping
as he was, when the ship rose so that they could get a more extended
horizon, but nowhere could the runaways be seen. This was serious, so
Godfrey, Dalton, Field and Rutherford were put down on the next island,
near the wood, armed in case of danger, and with instructions not to
leave that island. The _Regina_ rose to scour the country and the four
searchers entered the wood. All this, however, had taken some time, and
it was fully fifteen minutes before the _Regina_ could start her own
independent search.

“It will be easy to search this,” said Godfrey, who led the party,
“for the antlers of the horses would make a track, or show one.
There it is!” as they came to a broad open way like an avenue where
the grass was trampled down. As they entered this avenue Godfrey
cautioned,—“Rutherford and I will go first; Dalton and Field, do you
keep a few yards in the rear and look well behind you and at each side,
to prevent any attack that way; we don’t know what dangers may be
lurking for us.”

In this order they progressed for about half a mile, when a figure
dropped in front of them from one of the trees, and Ingle greeted them
with,—“So you’ve come, have you?” which self-evident fact was met by
the equally lucid,—“Oh, it’s you, is it?” and all five stood together
while Ingle recounted what had passed,—

“You saw us cross that water? Yes? The surprise of it nearly unseated
us all. Kelman did fall; is he safe? Yes? Well, he had the best of it.
Most of us were well seated with an arm on the shovel or web-shaped
part of the antlers as they stuck up. When we entered the wood the
horses held their noses up, which made the antlers lie close on their
backs, so we were wedged as if in arm-chairs, and we pressed our elbows
on the horns to keep them down and steady, so getting a good leverage.
The horses didn’t like being held that way and began to wriggle, and
the brute I was on tried several times to spin his head and slice me
off, but I held him tight and then, like a streak of lightning, he
darted under the trees here, with his nose high in the air, and antlers
tight on his back. He’d have swept me off with some bough and killed
me in another second had I not instantly guessed his little game, for
we were going at least a mile a minute, so the instant he swerved, I
jumped off and up, and caught that bough, and he passed under it. See,
his tracks are there. What has become of the others? I’m sure I don’t
know. The fact is, I believe I fainted for a minute or two, for I shot
at the bough with an awful smack, and fell across two; they kept me
up, or I should have been killed, for my brute was one of the first.”

“Then you are hurt!” exclaimed Godfrey, in concern.

“Yes, a little, old man!” he answered, and snatched at Godfrey’s arm,
which he grasped below the greeting-band, but under the circumstances
this was allowed to pass unnoticed, although it was an indictable
offence; recovering himself, he continued,—“What have I done! You must
excuse me, I was a little dizzy for the moment; I have broken two or
three ribs, and I think one has scratched my lung, for I’m bleeding,
see”; and he spat out a mouthful of blood.

“And you jumped off the tree and stood talking to us with broken ribs!
lie down this instant!” ordered Godfrey, in dismay.

“How else could I get down? I had no wings! I was afraid to get off
till some one came, but the jerk has given the lung a scrape; I shall
be glad to lie down, for the trees are spinning, and you are all
upside——” and notwithstanding his bravery he had fainted.

They strapped him up tightly till his breathing became easier, and then
restored him.

“How do you feel now, old fellow?” inquired Rutherford.

“As fit as a fiddle,” was the answer; “but it did hurt to lie across
the boughs! I’d buttoned my things up as tight as I could, but it
wasn’t like this.”

“Then not another word!” said Godfrey. “Dalton and Field will stay
by you for company, but if you talk, they’ll gag you straight away.
Rutherford and I will search through the wood, although what we shall
do if we meet the herd, I don’t know! If danger comes, telepath to us,
and we’ll come back at once.”

“Right!” replied Dalton. “We’ll telepath to the ship, any way, and rig
up a stretcher. Come back as soon as you can.”

“I’m right enough!” expostulated Ingle, “I don’t want a stretcher.”

“If he says another word, you two gag him!” ejaculated Godfrey,
bluntly, and he and Rutherford left, whilst Dalton and Field placed
Ingle in the undergrowth off the main avenue, lest the herd should
return, and prepared to make a stretcher.

“We can’t telepath,” said Ingle, faintly. “I tried all the time I was
in the tree. Now I’ll not say any more.”

“You’d better not, with a chest like that,” warned Field, “we’ll try.”
The two remained in close concentration of thought for a few minutes,
but it was as though an extinguisher was on their mind, and no reply
came.

“That’s strange!” exclaimed Dalton. “I never knew a failure before!”

“Marvellous!” agreed Field. “We’ve ‘waved’ from the sun to Earth, and
the others have ‘waved’ from Jupiter to Earth, and we can telepath all
over our world and yet here we can’t send a message half a mile.”

“It may be that we have no power outside the solar system,” suggested
Dalton.

“I never thought of that,” said Field. “We must look into it.”

While they were discussing this discovery, their two companions passed
through the small forest for about two miles, when they came to water,
which they found as buoyant as that first seen. Finding no other way
out of the forest, except the avenue, they retraced their steps, and
each taking a corner of the stretcher which had been improvised by
taking two long boughs, plaiting the intervening branches together and
filling it with leaves, they brought their burden to the edge of the
forest where they had first alighted, and rested there to wait for the
ship, which was out of sight.

After lowering them, she had risen high so that the occupants could
search the whole country with their glasses, but nowhere could the
runaways be seen; though there were numbers of other animals, the
horses and their riders had disappeared. Whilst they were looking,
however, the herd emerged from a great forest some distance away,
heading for their original pastures, the men still on their backs, and
the question arose as to how the riders could be rescued without being
damaged, or the horses being injured.

“Couldn’t you make them light, and float them up?” asked Sorrel.

“There are difficulties,” said Ross, smiling. “In that case, the horses
would come too, and our friends might be injured in the scrimmage of
getting off. If we lightened them so as not to affect the horses, as
the men’s legs are below the horses’ backs, it would be awkward if half
their bodies came up and the other half stayed down. We don’t know what
would happen, for we’ve never tried it.”

“Make them light, and throw a rope down,” said Rollsborough.

“And, they being light, the rope would knock the life out of them,”
objected Dennis.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Rollsborough, laughing; “and, of
course if the rope was equally light, it would be no good.”

“And if the horses are drawn up, they’d get such a fright as might
kill them, I suppose,” said Rowland. “But could we not telepath to the
fellows to stand on the horses’ backs and then waft them up?”

“It will be risky,” returned Gilbert, “for if they slip, the horses
coming behind will rip them up, but we’ll try it,” and they all
telepathed.

During this time the horses were still madly racing and reckless, the
three riders keeping pretty much their original positions.

“Where’s Ingle?” asked Reeve.

“I’m afraid he’s done for,” replied Coombes. “His horse flung him crash
against a tree, and he fell across it like a broken reed,—if he dropped
he would be trampled to death.”

“And Kelman?”

“He fell in the water, and he’ll be done for,” said Gardner, “for there
were scores behind him, or he’s drowned.”

“Why don’t those fellows up there do something! they’re pottering
around, taking observations and photographing us, I’ll be bound,
instead of doing something to help!” said Reeve, grumpily.

“I wish they would. These blessed things are going on for ever,”
exclaimed Gardner. “I’m sat on a thumping ridge of bone and it’s
scraping terribly!”

“Sit tight!” cried Reeve, excitedly, “they’re turning!” as the
riderless horses in front wheeled round, their own and all in the rear
taking the same movement as if in one frame.

“Great Bona!” groaned Gardner, “that jerk took off another inch
of bark, I’m certain! Look up at those asses in the ship, they’re
following us about, shouting for us to hurry up or something like it,
enjoying the fun instead of helping us.”

“And when we get back, they’ll show us our photographs, how nice
we look from their point of view, and expect us to appreciate it,”
exclaimed Reeve.

“They’re immediately overhead and following us and they’ll give us
elaborate calculations of our speed and distance travelled,” said
Coombes, jerkily. “I’m sure they’re measuring every inch of ground.”

“Ay!” agreed Gardner, “and then they’ll expect us to enthuse over
it—steady there, mind my eye—” as an antler came very near his head.
“I’ve been telepathing like mad, and they take no notice!”

“So have I,” responded Reeve, disgustedly. “But who can concentrate on
these blessed things! It takes us all our time to dodge their horns to
prevent being impaled. They could get at us, though, and they won’t!”

“Not likely!” ejaculated Coombes, “they’re enjoying it too much to
think of our side of it;” and then suddenly,—“Hallo, what’s up now!” as
all the horses left the ground and floated about a foot above it. The
riders looked up, and from the outer deck Ross shouted, “Can you hear
me?”

“Yes,” was the reply.

“We’ve been shouting to you, but the noise the horses made drowned our
voices. Stand up on their backs, you cannot fall lower than you are.
Take hold of the upright horns and mind you don’t get impaled on those
following behind.”

Too intent to speak, they obeyed, when the vessel swooped down and as
the herd divided in fright, many hands snatched up the figures with
a jerk, and in less time than it takes to tell, all three were safe
aboard again, and the horses were restored to their previous weight by
the simple withdrawal of all attraction. The ship then went to pick up
Godfrey and his party, and Ingle was put under treatment, suffering
very little inconvenience. When in the safety of the ship, the three
riders forgot their momentary annoyance, though they felt very contrite
about Ingle’s accident, but he protested he only was to blame, having
first suggested the frolic, and that the enjoyment was worth what
followed, especially considering the discovery of the strange water
which, in all probability, would not have been made but for that.
They took in a quantity of this water, which was sweet and pure, and
although no thicker than Earth-water was wonderfully buoyant, and of
the same specific gravity as the earth of the planet (taken from the
average of twenty samples of different kinds of earth, rock, stone,
etc. etc.).

The adventure whetted their appetites for further exploration, and on
proceeding they saw in many parts of the country colonies of beings,
and selecting one of the largest colonies, they found it inhabited
by strange people, who were highly intelligent and who, though not
greatly unlike human beings, had a skin covered with exceedingly fine
and silky hair which gleamed in the light. They wore no clothing nor
did they eat, as do the denizens of the solar system, but drew in their
nourishment from the air itself, which not only entered the lungs and
gave life and heat to the body as with us, but provided them with a
sufficiency of the chemical elements to build up the frame, and replace
the loss caused by physical and mental exertion. They were apparently
sexless, and seemed all to live together in the closest bonds of love
and friendship, thinking and doing no wrong, and treating their strange
visitors with courtesy, respect and perfect frankness. They examined
the ship with interest, and were pleased to hear what the vessel had
done, though knowing nothing of Earth, which was too far away to be
seen by their instruments, except as a very minute star. They spoke of
the sun—which was seen from here with the naked eye as but a star—as
from actual knowledge, explaining its internal and external structure
accurately, and when their description was confirmed, they were both
pleased and grateful for the proof.

They were entirely without guile, childishly frank and open, and of
a scale of intelligence far surpassing human limits. Although the
Earthians could not telepath even to each other in this world—or indeed
anywhere outside the solar system—they were so much under the influence
of these people that they could both understand and be understood by
thought alone. Dennis and his close friends had been to other planets
in the solar system, and only now did they realise what had previously
escaped their notice, plain though it was. Although the people and
climates, and modes of living, had differed on various planets, yet
there had been a certain similarity in form and thought. They had been
‘humans’—differing more or less, but in action, power, life, manner of
keeping alive by eating cooked or uncooked food, and telepathy alike,
and so far as the terrestrians were concerned they had been able to
communicate with Earth by ether wave so long as they had remained in
the solar system, thus proving that all the members of that system were
really of one family, and that the welfare of one world was identical
with that of all the others, but in this planet—the first they had
visited outside the system—all communication with the units of that
system was cut off.

These new friends confirmed this and pointed out that the influence of
the various worlds and their inhabitants could always be felt most in
their own particular family; it did not necessarily follow that the
characteristics of one system were repeated _en bloc_ in all others
throughout the universe. They also explained that if it were possible
to visit all the systems in the universe, it would be found in each
case that all conditions were changed; gravity was not the same,
chemicals were not governed by the same laws, substances and cohesion
of atoms and particles were under laws suited to them in their special
local relation to other things, and though throughout the whole of
creation a certain general law might and did prevail, the countless
millions of units which formed the one grand whole were controlled and
built up by that which would, in each individual case, be best suited
to enable that one unit to fulfil its allotted task; that nothing in
creation was wasted, and that each world, each unit, was as necessary
to the proper adjustment of the whole, and was as important to the
completion of the great work of creation, as was one small wheel to the
correct movement of a clock.

What that scheme is no mind other than that of the Creator can grasp;
but every single star and grain of meteoric dust in space is needed to
work it out. And all the movements in space, where orbits are within
orbits and worlds innumerable rush on with various speeds, clashing
when necessary, missing when necessary, all in regular motion like a
well-balanced clock; nothing wanting, not a speck of dust superfluous,
show the work of God proceeding, unerringly, unceasingly; in limitless
space above, around, below, where there is neither height, nor depth,
nor length, nor breadth that does not end as remote in eternity as the
beginning, and at the mere thought the mind experiences a crushing
feeling of oppression at such a declaration by the heavens of the Glory
of God.

Never before had the travellers got such a close insight into the
wondrous Scheme of Creation, and never before had they met creatures
higher than found in any part of the solar system, or any unlike
themselves. Had any one told them that beings could be hairy and
unclothed and not be degraded, they would have been held in derision,
as suggesting an impossibility; yet here were people before their very
eyes, unlike any seen elsewhere, not greatly different in form, manner
or speech, but with soft, hairy skins, glossy as silk, every motion
full of grace and beauty, unclothed and sexless yet not knowing it,
their thoughts and actions guileless as those of children; god-like
in figure and movement, and withal a god-like mind, and a frank love
and trustfulness that were in themselves a protecting hedge from outer
evil, had there been any.

Appreciating the great wisdom and kindness of these people it seemed
but natural to the explorers to tell them of the difficulty they were
in with relation to the recovery of their lost companions, and after
hearing the whole story in detail, and seeing the map of the heavens
at the time, the natives told them that the planet selected had been
for ages a member of the solar family, but it was not likely to be
often seen from Earth, as it was one of the ‘variable stars.’ Some
terrestrial months previously, however, they had seen it pass rapidly
out of the solar system, becoming larger and larger as it drew into
nearer view, and it was even now speeding forward some hundred million
miles distant. On referring to the photograph, it was found to be
the second of the two stars which Rollsborough had cleverly worked
out; they had naturally taken that needing the least alteration in
steering, but had they selected the second, they would by this time
have had their companions on board. On their saying they must go to
recover them, one of the natives asked if they had power to make their
attraction felt by telepathy, seeing the world was really one of the
solar family, but it was explained that so far they had never been able
to telepath anywhere except to Earth, though the people on the other
planets in the system communicated with each other freely, though none
to Earth.

Dennis, Ross and Gilbert, feeling proud of the enormous power they had
under control, boastfully said—as a sort of set-off to the apparent
stigma cast on Earth by its seeming to be the pariah of the solar
system, which they took as personal—that it would be easy for the ship
to arrest the planet in its present course, and draw it to them, if
necessary, and letting their pride get the better of their judgment,
they tried to persuade the passengers to agree to the planet’s course
being changed towards them.

Rollsborough, Sorrel, and some others strongly objected, saying that
such a proceeding would be most unfair both to the people on the planet
now giving them hospitality, and also to those on the world they
proposed attracting, and insinuating that as many dangers had been so
wonderfully overcome, they were allowing their heads to be turned by
their successes, and grossly presuming on their powers over nature.
The rival parties became considerably heated, one side enumerating some
of the evils that might be expected to ensue, the other treating the
matter as a joke, making light of the fears of the older section, until
at last a vote was proposed and taken, and wisdom lost, as usual.

For several hours they talked over the project, most of them saying,
recklessly, that it would be a fine experience to draw the world to
them and let the mutineers almost step off one to the other, arguing
that as the worlds were practically equal in gravitating power, and the
atmospheres, though different in chemical composition, equally capable
of supporting Earth-life, by careful manipulation the two planets could
be brought together safely and their atmospheres would not explode but
would commingle; the harebrained section were certain that with the
power at their disposal they could overcome all the probable dangers,
and bring the two worlds actually into contact at their equators, like
two balls, and the rebels could and _should_ jump from one sphere
to the other, no matter what happened, and then the worlds should
be separated, neither the worse. Rollsborough and his party said
nothing, and without more than these passing thoughts to the possible
consequences, that same evening—so precipitate were they—the _Regina’s_
attractive force was directed towards the runaway world.

“It is speeding away from us rapidly,” said Dennis, “but before we
breakfast it will have begun to pull up until its present force is
broken, when it will veer round and come to us!” and most of them
cheered; but Rollsborough, taking off his glasses and putting them
in their case, said, severely,—“You are lightheaded, gentlemen, and
intoxicated with the previous success; but what will the end be?”

No one spoke, and Sorrel quietly got up to go, but as he was passing
out of the saloon he turned and said,—

“The price will be a heavy one; very heavy indeed. It is a mad project.
Good-night!” and he went to his cabin, followed by Rollsborough, who
silently passed on to his at the other side.

For a few minutes this open disapproval put a damper on the jollity,
which was not lightened when several others rose and merely saying
“Good-night” left for their cabins, but this soon passed, and Allan
Gardner asked Ross,—“Are you going to tell the people here?”

“That is as we may all decide,” answered Ross, already almost
regretting the scheme; “perhaps we had better say nothing, but let it
come as a surprise.”

“Yes, that will be best,” agreed all; and so it came to pass that,
reckless of consequences, eleven men who were regarded as the coolest,
most matter-of-fact, most noted and reliable scientists Earth could
produce—for the sake of doing something bizarre in order to impress a
circle of new-found friends—so far forgot themselves as to wrench a
planet from its course and find it another.




                               CHAPTER XVI

                    “A RACE OF LAUGHING PHILOSOPHERS”


    “At length corruption, like a general flood,
     So long by watchful ministers withstood,
     Shall deluge all; and avarice creeping on,
     Spread like a low-born mist and blot the sun.”
                                                (+Pope.+)

The approach and descent of the _Regina_ with the intent of warehousing
her cargo of detrimentals on the new-found world caused considerable
commotion, and in the district they approached, all the people within
sight came running up, signalling to others, so that a crowd had
collected within the space of a few minutes, quite in terrestrial
style. All gazed upward in astonishment to see the great vessel slowly
settling, which was augmented when the side opened, the shimmering net
was drawn back, and several figures stepped on the outer deck; the
watchers gave a shout of dismay as one of the figures walked off the
ship as if on a level crossing, and this dismay turned to consternation
as they saw that the man did not fall crashing to the ground as they
expected, but remained floating as he was. Then another followed
and still another till there were eight, all clustered together,
suspended in space, when they slowly sank to the ground, men just like
themselves, though differently dressed. Looking up to the airship they
saw the net drawn together, heard the metal doors clink and snap, and
then without further sound or sign the vessel rose higher and higher
till lost to sight. What did it mean? and they stood staring at the
eight strange people who had dropped in their midst from the clouds.
Edgar Holt, essaying the first question, asked the people around
where they were and the name of the planet, but neither the natives
nor visitors could understand the languages used. Like wild-fire the
news spread that eight beings from another world had been deposited on
their sphere, and people came flocking up from all directions till the
ground for some distance around was packed and movement was well-nigh
impossible. Word was passed from one to another, telling the story
of the strange descent over and over again, as could be perceived by
their gesticulations, and some looked upon Holt and his companions with
awe and reverence, almost as gods, whilst those who had not witnessed
their arrival considered the accounts exaggerated, owing to excitement,
especially as there was no trace of vessel, or sign of one, to
corroborate, and their visitors appeared much the same weight as their
own average, therefore it was difficult to believe they had floated.

The eight friends could speak many different languages amongst them,
and these were all tried in turn, the people also speaking several,
as the visitors could tell by the change of accent and the different
vocalisation, but all without being understood. Two men, who seemed to
be governors or officers, next took the visitors in hand and conveyed
them to an enclosure, over which was placed an awning. Here again
the same difficulty arose with regard to speech, and matters at once
came to an _impasse_ when Aubrey Bolford thought of telepathy. All
difficulties were now ended, for the people were more expert in the
science than those of Earth, and both parties were surprised that
the idea had not occurred to them before, though as its use was not
necessary or usual in personal conversation, the temporary omission to
try it was not really to be wondered at.

Edgar Holt, as a middle-aged man, had carried out the practice
and promise of his youth, for he made a point of ignoring and
belittling anything and everything in which he could not take the
chief part. This had been his undoing on the ship, and now he took
everything in his own hands and acted as the spokesman and appointed
leader of the expedition. It never occurred to him that any of his
companions-in-disgrace might object to his rule, nor would it have
made much difference if they had done so; he would have ruled, just
the same, or left them to go their way while he went his. His friends,
however, were well content to leave the leadership to him, for though,
like most men of his class, he was unscrupulous to a degree, he
was gifted with ready wit and infinite resource which had hitherto
stood him in good stead, for he had always been able to shift his
difficulties to some one else and himself appear not only guiltless
but very much injured; and in this last, and first, case of detection,
had it not been for those bothering secret instruments giving them
away, and the whole thing being dealt with before he had had time
to think, he felt quite confident that whatever might have happened
to the others _he_ would still have been in the ship, respected and
honoured, not only as a scientist, but as a gentleman. None of his
companions, therefore, resented the aspect their leader put on the
affair in not stating the raw and garish truth, but presenting that
cultured compromise which some call the ‘truth, put delicately,’ and
others a ‘white lie,’ as their fancy dictates; the result, however, is
the same. So in his most captivating way, as he could not tell a lie
for anything, Holt told the officials the ‘truth,’ according to his
lights—and no one living could disprove it, or call him an untruthful
man,—“We, with many others, were going on a voyage of exploration to
the sun in a splendidly equipped ship, but as we had to come near this
world, we expressed a strong desire to visit it and make friends with
the inhabitants, so we eight were put down here to explore whilst our
friends proceeded on their journey, and in due course our ship will
call and take us back again. We thought that by this means we could
render better service to science by visiting here whilst our friends
explored the sun, and thus both objects could be dealt with together
and considerable time saved. We therefore request that you will accord
to us that hospitality and assistance which you yourselves would
receive from our own people in similar circumstances.”

This pretty, flattering little speech could have but one result, and
smiles and greetings of the warmest character followed.

Then came many questions on both sides, and as the natives did not know
Earth by that name, a drawing was made of the solar system, and they
were asked to name the various worlds. The sun they named ‘Claytor,’ a
word to them signifying ‘light and heat’; Mercury they called ‘Celtas’
or ‘one,’ being nearest the sun; their own planet was ‘Ramsar,’ and
‘Surans’—the former meaning ‘two,’ or the second from the sun, the
latter signifying ‘much water,’ the world having more water than land;
Venus was ‘Lovis’—or ‘three,’ and Earth ‘Rathela’ or ‘four.’ Stars were
called ‘Claros,’ which means ‘fixed,’ in contrast with ‘Icelaros,’
signifying ‘unfixed,’ or ‘travelling’ stars, which Earthians call
‘planets.’

“What is your orbit in the system?” asked Fred Congreve.

“It is within that of Venus, journeying round the sun.”

“How is it then that we have never seen it from Earth?” questioned
Aubrey Bolford, who was an astronomer.

“You see from this photograph that it is surrounded by a belt of
semi-opaque ether, which would render it wholly, or partially invisible
to you except on the rare occasions when the web lifted, and even then
meteor-swarms or planetoids might intervene. We shall therefore be a
‘variable’ star to you, just as your Earth and all the other members of
the solar family are not always visible to us, for which reason we call
them, as a whole, the ‘Selporas,’ a word signifying ‘variables,’ as you
name them.”

“You may perhaps recall,” remarked Bolford, turning to Holt, “that in
the year 2000 +a.d.+ many astronomers at the chief observatories in the
world noticed a large object near Venus which was taken to be a ‘Nova,’
or else a new moon, but after being under observation for a few days,
it disappeared and has not been seen since; it never has been visible
in England. Perhaps this is the one referred to.”

“I think it is more than probable,” assented Holt, then turning to
one of the bystanders he asked if astronomy was one of their special
studies, to find that not only astronomy but all other arts and
sciences were studied most assiduously. Holt then informed them who
he and his companions were and explained their professions. Such an
event as the almost miraculous dropping in their midst of eight of the
most noted scientists of another world could not be other than a great
national event. All over the world the news was ‘waved,’ for the people
were far more advanced in every way than those of Earth, and the ‘wave’
apparatus was so universal that almost every family had one fixed in
their dwelling, and even young children were conversant with its use;
it was a common sight even for them suddenly to stand for a moment in
silent concentration, and then smile happily, as some affectionate
message from parents or other loved ones was received and joyfully
answered. Considering the universal use of telepathy, the ‘wave’
apparatus was almost unnecessary, except that it imprinted the messages
which mere transmission of thought necessarily made evanescent.

It followed then that all the inhabited world was soon possessed of the
fullest particulars of the _Regina’s_ visit, and those who were able
to do so came to the spot on which the travellers had alighted, the
octet being the cynosure of all eyes. Certain people were deputed to
attend to their personal comfort and elucidate everything not clear to
them, the strangers on their part explaining the methods, science and
learning of their own planet.

The people lived in community, each colony so excellently organised
that no one had ever known a single instance of any wrong being done.
However, this state of things was soon to be altered, for Earthians
are not yet fitted to associate with those of better life without
the latter suffering. In theory, the better exercise such a splendid
example for good that the less good immediately improve; but in
practice, the only way to maintain the perfection of the good is to
isolate them, in order that they may grow better and not worse, and
then perhaps go to a still better world; which is the reason, maybe,
why nature separated each world from its neighbour by instituting the
laws of gravity and atmospheric pressure, and by placing between a
chasm of unbreathable and unbridgable space. In conquering gravity,
science and chemistry had bridged this gulf and the visits to Venus
and other places had done no harm, because those particular visitors
were not base, but had sought only good. In the present instance,
however, the eight voyagers were very jealous-minded, and were disposed
to go to great lengths to obtain the fruits of other men’s labours,
hence their presence here, which was likely to prove a real calamity
to the pure and honourable inhabitants of this planet, who knew no
wrong,—and because they were far above the terrestrials in science,
learning and morals, they were childlike in their innocence, their
lives glowing with happiness and mirth; every one of them contented and
jovial, taking everything that came with a smiling face; having clear
consciences and knowing that everything _must_ work out for their good,
they accepted each event with philosophy and good-humour, and in their
own frankness they never for a moment even dreamed that their visitors
could be in any way different, for were not all in the solar system
closely related and under the ruling power of the same mighty Sun! They
therefore trusted the strangers implicitly and, to use a well-known
proverb, they wore their hearts on their sleeves, never imagining that
there were such creatures as daws to peck them.

Unfortunately for the natives, thought-transmission with the visitors
could only be effected by very strong effort, or they would have known
what manner of men they were entertaining, and the visitors’ minds not
being so pure and refined as theirs could only grasp their thoughts
with the utmost difficulty, failing altogether to do so as often as not.

The strangers were a type of the successful business man of Earth,
considering anything justifiable if gain resulted. Earth always favours
such men, scorning those boneless creatures whose honour shrinks from
causing another’s ruin, so these eight had always been regarded there
as exceedingly smart and, bearing in mind Earth’s definition of a sound
business man, they despised these clever, innocent people; before the
sun set on their first day Holt said to Keeth, laughingly,—“What do you
think of these folk here?”

“Exceedingly clever, apparently,” Keeth replied, sneeringly, “but the
simplest folk I have ever seen.”

“They’re too innocent by half,” broke in Congreve, an electrician, “and
if we don’t pluck them and feather our nests out of this lot, we shall
deserve all we get!”

“Why, what shall we get?” inquired Ellis Siddall.

“Get?” ejaculated Pease Dawson, querulously. “Get? you’ll see! We were
downright fools ever to have thought of taking that ship, and we shall
regret it to our dying day!”

“Yes!” agreed Congreve, “with all our experience of what the owners
could and would be likely to do, we might have been sure it would end
badly.”

“Well, after all,” said Herbert Wadsworth, “we took the risk, and we
made up our minds to stand or fall together when we attempted to seize
the ship, and we’ve lost, so we must make the best of it.”

“That’s all right,” rejoined Brookes Hewitt, “but who would have
thought they’d have those instruments secreted everywhere, and that the
vessel could be electrified in units!”

“Anyway,” said Siddall, much aggrieved, “they should have kept us
prisoners and not dumped us here.”

“Never fear!” replied Congreve, “we shall have to face the music, all
in good time.”

“You don’t mean to say you think they _will_ call for us?” said
Siddall, incredulously.

“Of course they will,” answered Congreve, “and they’ll take us back to
England and we shall be tried for mutiny in the air, and you know that
is a capital offence.”

“We’ll bring a counter-charge against them for damages,” persisted
Siddall, loth to feel he had no case.

“My dear fellow,” interposed Holt, somewhat rudely, as was his wont,
“those folk in the ship hold the cards and they’ll play them at the
proper time and win. They’ll go to the sun, conduct their observations,
call for us and take us back, and then there’ll be a fine kettle of
fish, and we shall be the fish! so you might just as well make up your
mind to it.”

“Then I for one shall stay here!”

“Don’t be a fool, Siddall!” protested Wadsworth. “You know very well
from what you’ve heard and seen, that if we’re called for we’ve got
to go, _nolens volens_. Could you get out of your cabin? Could you
help coming here? No, when they come for us, we go! They’ll find us,
float us up, take the whole blessed world with them if they can’t find
us without, so it’s foolish to talk about not doing this, or that;
they’ll take us when we’re wanted, whether it’s days or years. It would
have been more charitable to kill us, for even if they beg us off in
England, our lives will be a misery to us on Earth after this business,
but they _cannot_ beg us off!”

This violent outburst silenced Siddall, and Holt said,—“Well, I propose
that we have a good time here, and get as much out of these softies as
we can, for it’s the last good time we shall have, and we’d better make
the best of it.”

“Yes, certainly,” agreed Hewitt, “and they’ll be simple enough to do
all that we want.”

“Just fancy!” broke in Keeth, “with all their learning, they don’t know
what smoking is! and they are ignorant of alcohol, except as a chemical
compound, which they use in their manufactures and laboratories.”

“And they’re so awfully good,” chimed in Congreve, “they know nothing
about games of chance, or anything, poor beggars.

“That’s soon remedied,” laughed Holt; “we’ll show them! The _Regina_
will be away getting on for a year, at least, and we can never exist so
long as that without relaxation.”

“No,” said Siddall, “we worked hard in coming, and we must work
hard here, so as to learn as much as possible, while we have the
opportunity.”

“That’s all right,” responded Wadsworth, laughing grimly; “but if we
manage to get off, which does not seem possible, we shall have to
work harder when we get back to Earth than we have done all our lives
together, and if we don’t get off and our lives are forfeit, what’s the
good? I think we can afford to take things easy for awhile.”

“That’s all very well, as you say,” expostulated Siddall, “but in the
interests of science it is our duty to do the best we can, and we have
opportunities here that we shall never have again.”

“Granted!” replied Wadsworth, airily, “I’m not going to argue the
matter, old man; I don’t say you’re wrong, but no amount of preaching
will avail—our reputations are gone, once and for ever, and nothing is
of any moment now.”

“That is foolish, Wadsworth!” exclaimed Siddall, warmly; “that’s fool’s
talk! we must not lose our moral strength; we have gone wrong, let it
be a lesson to our profit—and considering who we are, it is indeed
degrading for us so to forget our manhood and the dignity of our
professions as to talk in this way. _Noblesse oblige_, remember!”

This sensible speech pulled them together so much, and made several
feel so ashamed, that much heated argument resulted, in which Siddall
declared his determination to work and retrieve the past, and the
others vowed they would have a ‘decent’ time, and enjoy themselves,
showing the utter impossibility of Siddall’s working alone while they
went their own course untrammelled, and again Siddall appealed to their
honour and better judgment, this time to such purpose that they agreed
to spend the next few days in seeing the district and then attach
themselves to the various departments of learning and research to which
they were severally accustomed, if the people would allow them to do
so, and thus perhaps help and be helped in useful work.

Then they retired for the night, but the next day was very dull and
they felt depressed; one of them begged a little alcohol to restore
him, for he had a weak heart. The chemists were aghast when they saw
him drink it, for such a thing had never been seen before. The strength
of terrestrial alcohol was no criterion for that made on another
planet, so he took what he considered a ridiculously small dose, but
it was very powerful and overcame him so much that he was completely
intoxicated. With deep regret at the occurrence, his companions tried
to rouse him, when they found, to their dismay, that he was slowly
sinking. It was extremely difficult to obtain the proper restoratives,
and those they had with them were not strong enough, for though all
the usual chemicals were in the natives’ laboratory, their names and
properties were different, and it was a long process to obtain what was
needed; at last one of them found some pure oxygen, which was pumped
into the unconscious man and he gradually recovered; but this first
lapse, half accidental as it was, cast a gloom over the party and
seemed to foreshadow trouble.

The day following, the astronomical observatories were in uproar,
and on asking the cause, the visitors were told that the planet was
apparently steadily leaving its orbit. This was indeed startling news,
and Bolford, with several other members of the party, made careful
observations with the natives, of the sun in the daytime, and the stars
and planets in the night, and this they kept up for some time, in the
hope of getting a definite clue to their own position and movements, to
find, without doubt, that slowly and surely the relative positions of
the heavens and themselves were steadily changing.

The sun no longer described the same arc in his course, and the
altering stars were already causing accidents at sea. Knowing their
original position, the astronomers found it only too true; they had
left their orbit near Venus, and were surely drifting onwards in a new
one, in a course leading them direct from the sun, and already they
must have passed out of the semi-opaque web of ether with which they
had hitherto been surrounded, for only a portion of the solar system
was now obscured and they had an uninterrupted view of almost the whole
of the heavens, thousands of stars, planets, and planetoids never seen
before being now visible to them. Many of them were known on Earth,
and Bolford and the other members of the expedition who understood the
science of astronomy were in great request, explaining and pointing out
the celestial objects as they could locate and recognise them, for it
was only natural that the people should be almost feverishly anxious to
learn all about those portions of the heavens now seen by them for the
first time, and after a few days of this high pressure they were very
much fatigued, for all had been working without cessation, calculating,
theorising, and taking observations and photographs when the clouds
made this possible.

The visitors had been accustomed to taking various reviving drinks
by dissolving pellets in water, but when they were ejected from the
_Regina_ a supply of these pellet-intoxicants had not been included
in their stores; they had but some chemical restoratives, so, feeling
tired and knowing now where and what the alcohol was, they asked for
and drank a small quantity diluted with water, to pull them together.
Those in this department also had never thought of such a thing before,
but seeing that instead of killing their guests it really made them
bright-eyed and alert again, they were easily persuaded to try it,
especially as the visitors assured them it would produce good and
not harm. At the mere draught the potent spirit ran through their
veins like liquid fire, and being previously totally unacquainted
with this use of it, its effect was to take away all their weariness
as if by magic and make them fresh again. They thanked their new
friends profusely for the discovery, and began to take it frequently
on the assumption that if a little could revive them, more would do it
better, and the following day several of the natives were found in the
observatories hopelessly drunk.

Most of the members of the visiting party were shocked and thought
it was a pity the people had no more sense, and they foresaw the
possible consequences, but the folk should not be so foolish!—they
would, however, soon learn better. But the secret was out and the drink
fiend had come in their midst. The poor fellows were carried home and
their friends were cautioned as to the danger, but they might just as
well have been cautioned not to let the lightning flash—one would not
have been more difficult than the other; several cases of drunkenness
occurred the following day,—and the visitors had not been there a week.

Then in the evenings, after the serious day’s work was over, the people
asked the strangers to join them in conversation, being hospitable and
kind. Congreve, who was an inveterate smoker, had got Keeth, a chemist,
to sterilise some particular leaves which Dawson had found, rolled and
dried, and these were smoked by the visitors with delight; and they,
being hospitable and friendly also, could not sit there talking and
enjoying their smokes without offering similar cigars to their friends.
Such exchange of courtesy could not be denied, and what was good for
one could not harm two, so the natives followed the example of their
visitors and smoked with them, and, anxious to please and entertain
their guests, the spirit was brought out also. By this time, being
accustomed to live so near the sun, they perceived that though the
climate had not changed perceptibly, the evenings were a little chilly,
and they needed warm and cosy rooms to maintain their bodily heat, thus
fires had to be made, and as they were all seated around talking over
their experiences and discussing matters of great interest to all, it
was only natural that, seeing there was plenty of spirit and water,
Holt should suggest a warm drink the better to keep out the cold—and
Keeth, who was an adept at compounding appetising liquors, was called
upon to show the people what he could do; so with the boiling water,
some fruits, spirit and other ingredients, he made a splendid drink,
which was handed round, steaming hot, and swallowed with avidity.
The natives were assured it would do them good, and they knew it was
so by the taste and by the delightful feeling of inward warmth and
invigoration which followed. As the evening wore on all drank freely
of the comforting beverage, and the natives blessed their visitors for
showing them a new and enjoyable use for the material which they had
made for years and years, all their lives in fact, yet hitherto had
never attempted to drink. With the smoke and wine came games, and it
amused these ingenuous folk to play at winning shells from one another;
they were found in thousands on the sea-shore, and it was an exciting
pastime for chilly evenings—a pastime in which they soon became adepts;
then the lust for gambling became rooted in their simple minds, and
their visitors gave them to understand that, whatever the consequences
might be, gaming debts must in honour be paid in full.

Before long this became the expected and customary method of spending
the evenings, now longer and cooler, and the news of these wonderful
terrestrial games and customs spread rapidly, and others wished to join
the privileged circle, to take part in these ravishing amusements. What
if they lost! it was nothing! they would lose one time and gain the
next, so things must work out even; and what so refreshing after a hard
day’s work as to spend their leisure in exciting play, smoking curled
leaves, and drinking the hot and delicious spirit that drove away all
care. Truly these Earthians were a wonderful race, and, but for them,
the leaves would have been unsmoked, the spirit untasted, all enjoyment
from them unknown, and they vowed that henceforth the world would not
be the same. They began to teach others, and some found themselves
unable to pay and had to sell their stock, for they could not be called
dishonourable; they could, however, always play again and win more,
getting all back with interest, and for the first time there came the
desire for wealth, for unlimited stock, and the only way to get it
was to win it from some one else, so again they played and several
lost all. These refused to pay, but they were so oppressed by the high
moral standard and tone of their companions, and especially of the
terrestrials, who placed ‘honour’ above all other virtues, even above
life, that in despair they gave up all that they had and paid,—and the
first pauper was created.

Then others, men, and women too, who had lost even more than they
possessed, having staked wildly in their excitement, found themselves
in terrible positions, and being able to give themselves in complete
settlement, recklessly paid this price and became free from their
debts, but woke up to the fact that heavy toll was henceforth to be
exacted,—and theft and immorality were for the first time known on the
planet.

The visitors had only been there a month, but they were doing excellent
business, having already taken much of the profits of these people,
many of whom, because they lived in community, had only part-shares
in goods, but who, in terror of being considered dishonourable, took
their own and their partners’ shares, themselves receiving all the
money with which to pay their debts and buy spirit, which had by this
time increased in value. In other places there was no money, but by a
gradual and judicious exchange of goods, the strangers soon gathered
to themselves many valuables in such small compass as could be carried
about with them on their persons, and in many other ways the Earthians
proved themselves smart business men.

After the first momentary shock of finding they had laid a terrible
burden on the shoulders of these guileless people had passed, the same
jealous greed of gain which had prompted the eight men to seize the
ship now prompted them all—even Siddall—to throw to the winds all their
better feelings, discretion and honour, in order to take advantage of
their innocent victims, so gently and so insidiously that the injury
was unperceived until too late: to wrong these people who had been
more sinned against than sinning; who had hitherto been wealthy in the
possession of contentment and in a light-heartedness that shone in
every feature, causing every movement to fill them to overflowing with
the joy of life.

It was but a repetition of the time-worn story of the devout and the
profane parrots, and a confirmation of the experience that the good
do not make the bad good, but are by them degraded, and one evil mind
in a community is as the “dead flies” that “cause the ointment of the
apothecary to send forth a stinking savour.” No longer the ‘laughing
philosophers’ of yore, the inhabitants were weary, careworn and sad,
filled with a deadly fear that ‘community’ would not bring them enough
to eat, so in order to protect themselves and those who were near and
dear to them, they became sly and thieving; and put goods and money
away secretly, and dissembled, feeling they could not keep on ‘giving’;
and all the time the drinking and gambling habits were growing fast,
numbers finding their only joy on the occasions when the hot and
flowing bowl drove away their cares, and the gaming-table diverted
their attentions from sorrow.

Then some desperate spirits condemned their visitors, and lips that
before they came did naught but bless, cursed them, cursed those they
had greeted with loving trust and friendship. But what if the poor,
helpless, and injured one—whether injured through drink or anything
else—turns round and curses the shrewd and clever business man, what
effect has it? What does he care? As well might a gnat curse the
elephant that tramples it! even if by a lucky chance it manages to
insert a drop of poison and cause an instant’s pain, which is scarcely
felt, it gets crushed to nothingness. No more do curses trouble a man
of the world; something may perhaps sting him slightly, but the stinger
is hopelessly broken and as certainly forgotten; the victor has gained
all he desired and put his victim away at the same time. If he did care
in the least he would, _ipso facto_, cease to be respected as a smart
business man.

The mutineers had only been on the world four months when they suddenly
disappeared from the community, and none too soon, or they would have
added a fresh link to the already long chain of their sins by causing
the crime of murder to be introduced, for more than one had sworn to
kill them, and these vengeful victims sought for them high and low,
in all communities, but they seemed to have vanished from the face of
the world. Meanwhile the planet was drifting more and more from its
course, going no one knew whither—apparently attracted by a stronger
force than the sun, the climate getting worse and worse. Fogs were now
of daily occurrence, and the diminution of the sun’s rays affected the
whole world most seriously. There was no longer the great difference
between the heat of the day and that of the night, and there was very
little circulation in the atmosphere. The vapours rising up from the
earth and water now hung over the globe in a thick and impenetrable
mist, clouds remained almost stationary, and through the thick, foggy
air was not a breath of wind; the heat from the warmer portions of
the globe was not wafted to the cooler, and _vice versâ_, in order to
produce a temperate average from their distribution. And the fœtid
vapours emanating from the earth and sea, and all the dead and dying
life in and on them, and from the living people, were not destroyed,
or blown away, and in some cases the inhabitants died like flies,—by
hundreds. And as the weeks and months sped on matters grew ever worse,
for the air became more and more dense and stationary. Sound became
gradually more subdued and at last ceased, and there settled on the
whole world a chilling, numbing cold, nipping the already paralysed
limbs. The clouds, unable to perform their functions, condensed less
and less, as the sun, the source of heat, grew more and more distant,
till at last the air—the world’s scavenger—finally refused to absorb
and disperse the now dreadful emanations from the animal, vegetable
and other matter, by its capillary attraction, and life became almost
intolerable, only possible to the very strong and vigorous, for the
climatic conditions were changing faster than it was possible for life
of any kind to adapt itself to them.

Work was impossible, yet folk must live, and the stronger snatched the
food from dying lips to keep life going, and a second later it would
again be snatched away, clutched convulsively and lost, the exertion,
feeble though it was, being fatal, and the victorious one would roll
over inert as his own victim had done a moment before.

It was now nearly an Earth-year since the strangers had alighted—their
cursed visitors; and where they were no one knew. Without doubt they
were the cause of the national disaster and moral degradation, and now
everybody was too feeble to wish them back except to kill them, for by
this no one cared to do that sufficiently to search for them, for every
atom of strength was needed for their own bare existence. For months
people had been telepathing with all their energies to all parts of the
world, but their corrupters had vanished as completely as if taken off
again in the ship.

One day, to add to their misery, there burst over them an electric
storm, which first began in various parts of the world and then
embraced its whole surface, almost setting the very air on fire. Such
a storm had never been known before, and people crouched and crawled
and hobbled away in all directions to find a corner in which to shield
themselves from the lightning-charged air, as if they could get away
from that awful atmosphere which filled all the space on the earth, and
in a cave by a lonely shore eight figures crouched together in deadly
terror, waiting for the end which they felt was close at hand.

“We are not safe by this water!” said Dawson, whose voice scarcely rose
above a whisper, and in that thick and soundless air would not have
been heard at all but for the acoustic properties of the cave. “Let us
get away. See, the whole heavens are blazing, and the sea is so charged
with electricity that it is actually floating fire.”

“It is running in here and will burn us up!” exclaimed Siddall,
hoarsely. “Let us go out and find another place.”

“No,” cried Holt, “the sea is our safety,” and for the first time in
his life he appealed to others for support of his statement. “The sea
and cave are our safety,” he repeated; “Keeth, Congreve and Hewitt
will tell you the same, and if we step outside we shall be caught.
No one has thought it possible for us to be here”; and as the first
wave of the rushing incoming tide rose up the floor, lighting the cave
with a flood of electric fire, he continued,—“Now we should have to
dive through the fire to get out!” Exhausted with this long speech, he
leaned back against the wall, panting for breath.

“Let us go higher,” said Keeth, painfully lowering himself from the
ledge on which he had been sitting gazing seaward through a thin crack
in a stratum of rock, and they all clambered still higher up the side
of the cave, the water on the floor meanwhile being flooded with light.

“It’s lucky we had a good supply of food in pellet form,” said Siddall,
“or we should be dead now!”

“It would have been better so!” groaned Wadsworth, “our records are
none too clean; we have sent hundreds to the devil and have corrupted
the morals of a whole world, for if the people here recover from this
awful disaster, they’ll continue to go to the devil, who will get the
lot!”

Dawson was in a state bordering on collapse, and as he painfully
dragged himself along, a few inches at a time, for he could not sit
up, he became very faint, but by dint of much patience and a heroic
determination not to give way, he managed to pull himself above
high-water mark, and, overcome with the exertion of keeping the few
inches in advance of the rising water, he now leaned back against the
wall with his head on the cool rock, damp with ooze from the sodden
herbage above; the touch of the wet and slimy rock, the only cool
thing in that fiery atmosphere, acted as an ice-cap and restored him
wonderfully, and looking round at his companions he said, brokenly,—“I
remember my parents telling me of a Bible story; it was something about
one who causes another to offend—I forget how it went, but I think it
said it would be better for him if a millstone had been tied round his
neck and he had been thrown into the sea first. I think we’ve tied
millstones round these folk as well as ourselves! I’ve not seen my
Bible since I was grown up, but I’d give a lot to be an innocent boy
again,” and he turned his face to the cooling slime.

“You can’t have sentiment in business, my boy; life’s too short!”
exclaimed Holt, brusquely.

“I fear it is, Holt,” came the feeble reply, in jerks. “Life’s very
short. Our days are but a shadow—life _is_ short, Holt—I fear it is—”
and then, after a pause, just as one of the others was commencing,—“and
Tom, dear, will you give your sister this, and say it’s from me——”

“What’s the fellow talking about?” asked Holt, roughly.

Unheeding, Dawson went on—“and tell her I’m very sorry. I fear I shall
not see her again,” another pause—“I had hoped I should meet her in
heaven, but I don’t know, now. I have not been good, Tom, but tell her
not to fret, I am not worth it! Why have you put out the light, Tom? it
is dark, and I——”

“What’s the matter?” asked Congreve, trying to crawl nearer.

“I believe he’s dying!” exclaimed Hewitt.

“Good heavens!” they cried, as all came round, themselves almost too
ill to move, and held a volatile restoring tablet under his nostrils;
the oxygen which it gave off along with other vapours, though not
bringing him round, sent him into a deep sleep, his steady breathing
giving promise of recovery.

“Thank God!” interjected several, as they placed another pellet beside
the face of the sleeping man.

“We have need to say that!” observed Siddall, regretfully. “I’d like
to have the chance of undoing this business before I die, if that were
possible.”

“Are you feeling bad, too?” asked Holt, offering him his box of
restorative tablets.

“Only in mind! that’s bad enough!” replied Siddall, sinking down again.

“What’s the cause of this electric storm and this fiery sea, Congreve?”
asked Wadsworth, “you should know.”

“I have been wondering for the last two or three hours,” replied
Congreve, musingly. “It may be that the foul gases on the ground have
caught fire, or that there is some great electric disturbance; which it
is I cannot understand.”

“Not the _Regina!_” exclaimed Hewitt.

“No, certainly not!” broke in Holt. “Oakland would come to the old
orbit between Venus and the sun, and would never look for us here.”

“It would be an utter impossibility,” rejoined Bolford; “the last view
we had of the sun was as of a star of the fifth magnitude; that was
some months since, and it will be about the seventh now, or invisible
without a glass.”

“What can have caused us to shoot off? the _Regina?_” asked Keeth.

“There’s no doubt about it to my mind,” returned Bolford; “but only
those in the ship could tell us why; perhaps only the owners.”

Too exhausted to talk any more, they languidly rolled over, too ill to
care what happened, and they dropped off to sleep one after the other,
in fitful dozings, from which they were awakened a few hours later by
water dripping on their faces from the cracks in the roof above. On
going to the hidden chink in the rocks, from which they had an extended
view of the shore, they saw rain. It was falling in a deluge, heavy,
pouring rain; descending like long rods of polished steel, boring holes
in the sand and the motionless sea, breaking the now feeble, lanky and
colourless grass and pouring down the rocks in a flood, carrying the
electricity with it in rainbows innumerable—floods of prismatic, fiery
water. For hours it came down unceasingly, wetting them to the skin, as
from every niche and cranny tiny and then strong streams raced down
the cave floor and mixed with the stinking salt water at the entrance;
but their hope revived as the rain continued. At last it ceased, and
there came a freshened feeling in the air as the first puff of wind
blew through the slit in the rock.

“You know what that means!” cried Bolford, joyfully.

“Yes, thank heaven!” they exclaimed.

“Yes, thank heaven!” he repeated, fervently; “we are drawing near to
the planet or source that has been pulling us all this time, and the
atmosphere is moving.”

“That rain has come in the nick of time,” said Keeth; “one day later
and we should have been dead, every one of us.”

“Let us get to the mouth of the cave to breathe the air, and bring
Dawson,” said Siddall; “we can dive under the water.”

Only then did they realise how ill they were, for try as they would
they could not stand, or indeed rise higher than a sitting posture, and
in this position they shuffled along, dragging the still unconscious
form of Dawson with them, inch by inch, every foot or so of the way
having to rest to regain strength, and in this wise they got near
the water. There they rested quite overcome, and all more or less
unconscious, staying there for hours, perhaps for days, for most of the
time was spent dozing in a semi-unconscious condition and time passed
unnoticed, but when they did find intelligence returning to them, there
was a distinct breeze, the clouds had lifted, and the stars could be
seen. Bewildered, they searched the heavens, and Bolford cried,—“We
have altered our orbit again! when we first came here we had Aquarius
facing the cave, stationary, ‘in line of sight’ for months, and now we
are opposite Aries! Something else has got us now!”

In great excitement they all looked out, and there, sure enough, was
Aries, and they were crossing. For hours they watched, and Holt
remarked, “Never mind where we go, so long as we can live, and this new
power is healthier than the last, anyway.”

“We shall never get to England now, that’s one comfort!” exclaimed
Siddall, in a tone of relief.

“No, old man,” responded Congreve, “you need have no more fear. Even
the _Regina_ can’t trace us now!” and he attempted a laugh, which
ended in a dry cackle. Only then did they notice that their lips and
tongues were cracked and hard, and the whole interior of their mouths
dry and almost devoid of feeling, their voices sounding hoarse and most
untuneful, so it was evident that hearing had returned.

“Holt!” exclaimed Keeth, suddenly, “don’t you feel how charged the air
is with electricity? I feel myself full of faint prickles!”

“I was going to remark the same thing,” replied Holt. “I will have
a look outside;” saying which he tried to rise, but failing to do
so, he drew a clasp-knife and stuck it in a crack in the rock to
assist him, when the metallic blade crackled and sparkled with
electricity. Withdrawing the blade and closing it, he turned to Hewitt,
saying,—“There’s some powerful current here and no mistake! Look
outside, Hewitt, old man; I’m too ill to rise without help.”

Hewitt could not go either, so Congreve slowly worked his way to the
front, tasting the air and feeling at the rocks, and then going to the
opening he put his head outside, withdrew it, and then tested the rocks
with his own knife, but to find Holt’s experience repeated.

“Anything atmospheric to cause that, Congreve?” inquired Hewitt.

“No! nothing!” he replied, shortly.

“What do you think?” asked Holt.

Congreve did not answer, but put out his head again, and again withdrew
it, and stood looking out at the opening.

“Don’t you know?” queried Holt and several others, impatiently.

“No. I’m thinking!” he muttered, and then remained silently lost in
thought for so long that they asked again.

“I don’t know; only a passing fancy, but it’s not possible!”

“What is it?” they asked, excitedly.

“Nothing, only a foolish fancy; but it cannot be,” he replied,
musingly, still looking out.

“Tell us then!” they persisted.

“I thought it might be the _Regina!_” he said slowly, pausing between
each word. “But she could not know where we are.”

“Impossible!” interjected Holt. “She could never single one planet out
of millions, not knowing the direction we took, and especially now we
have changed again. It is absurd.”

“I said so,” said Congreve, reflectively, still at the opening.

“And as we are not near the orbit of Venus at all, she could not find
us; it is impossible!” put in Keeth.

“No; I told you it was a foolish idea,” murmured Congreve, still lost
in thought and still closely watching. Then he came and sat down with
the rest, and one after another each one fell asleep where he was. How
long they slept they had no means of telling, but nature had applied
her own remedy and they awoke considerably refreshed; even Dawson was
now conscious, though too ill to move.

After a while the air became so charged with electricity that their
cave was like an electric oven, so stifling as to be painful, and
they crawled to the opening for relief and to watch the weird effect
outside, and endeavour to locate their position by the stars, and in
the black and starry sky they beheld what they took to be a comet.

“What can that be?” asked several, indifferently.

“A comet,” replied Keeth, briefly.

“I did not know there was one due there,” said Bolford, musingly,—and
then suddenly they all cried,—

“Can it be?—can it! Oh! good heavens!—It IS the _Regina!!_”




                              CHAPTER XVII

                      SMALL PROFIT AND QUICK RETURN


  “Doth the wild ass bray when he hath grass? or loweth the ox over
  his fodder?”
                                                              (+Job.+)

The day following the stormy meeting on board the _Regina_ nothing
of moment transpired, and only the strongest faith in the _Regina’s_
powers made them know that, although unseen, a mighty force was
speeding along the enormous space that intervened between themselves
and the planet they were attracting. They knew it would be madness to
draw it to them rapidly, like rebounding elastic; the only safe thing
to do would be first to project against it a gradually increasing
attraction, till its present speed was completely overcome, when they
expected it would alter its course to follow the line of greater
attraction to them. Some time, therefore, must elapse before anything
would be noticeable, during which the visitors would have to continue
their work of joint observation and exploration with their new-found
friends, and in the abstraction of these researches the subject was
seldom referred to. In the course of a week, however, there came over
the atmosphere of that part of the world in which they had made their
headquarters a slight change, so gradual as to be scarcely perceptible;
it was the ‘smell’ of electricity—that peculiar, almost indefinable
odour which is always evident when an enormous amount of electricity
is present, and has been defined as being like many different
chemicals, though most people consider it chiefly resembles chlorine.
The natives noticed this, but attributed it to the continued presence
of the vessel. Then they perceived that the planet which had been
speeding away from them had altered its course, and they delightedly
told their visitors of this, saying that as it was now coming in their
own direction, it would be better for them to go to it by means of
their ship later, without making so long a journey, pressing them to
stay until the world drew nearer, never even dreaming for a moment that
their visitors were effecting it and not knowing or believing they
had power to do so. Feeling guilty at having to dissemble in order to
keep the secret for the great and final surprise, the travellers very
kindly accepted the offer to stay and wait till the other world drew
near. They had hoped the people would not notice the altered direction
of the planet, but the fact of other terrestrials being on it, and
wanted by their comrades, had aroused interest and the planet had, in
consequence, been under observation ever since. It was, however, but
a runaway star, and, like a lost and turned-out dog that is ready and
willing to become attached to any one who is kind enough to give it a
home, so was this disowned planet flying through space, ready to form a
new orbit in any system that would or could keep it, or to coalesce, if
need be, with any more powerful world into whose influence it chanced
to come, and thus form another sun. When it turned, the people merely
thought it had, as it were, aimlessly crossed a stronger influence and
had become drawn towards some other and distant force.

“How long will it be before the planet is with us?” asked Dalton of
Gilbert.

“About a fortnight,” he replied. “We do not wish it to come too fast,
lest its revolution and atmosphere and those of this world should be
disturbed.”

A few hours later, there came upon the atmosphere a more sudden
change; the air became perceptibly drier, hotter and more stifling,
and before long, heavy clouds gathered and obliterated the stars,
the distant, yet approaching world sharing the same fate, being no
longer visible; and there were no means of ascertaining its position
except by intricate calculations from the amount of force projected.
By this time all around the ship there rested a faint phosphorescence,
and the heat and dryness in the air became severely felt, filling
the nostrils with such a choking as to make inspiration painful in
the extreme. The enormous amount of electricity projected was slowly
converting the air into allotropic oxygen, or ozone, of such intensity
that it burned the lungs and made breathing a torture, and the sense
of suffocation became almost intolerable. To the natives this change
was deplorable, depending as they did on the air for both breathing
and food; and living in the open they had no shelter, only the frail
structures erected for astronomical observations and the carrying on of
business—laboratories and the like. In vain they entered these in order
to find coolness, then returned to the open, for in that furnace of
altering elements there was no cool, everywhere was equally painful.

“We cannot work in this stifling heat, and the clouds are
impenetrable,” telepathed one of the native astronomers to
Rollsborough. “There is some dreadful electrical disturbance around;
I am glad your ship is here, for it is drawing towards itself all the
local forces”; and in the air there could be seen floating beside the
ship, a faint, rosy light, paling into greens and purples and moving
fitfully.

Rollsborough said nothing, for he, along with the other objectors, had
decided to take a neutral stand, and neither help nor hinder anything
the owners and their colleagues were pleased to do. But he now debated
with himself whether he would not be justified in divulging the real
facts of the case, though on further consideration he remembered that
if the owners chose to do anything with the ship’s powers, they could
do it, and as no one else understood the control of these forces, no
good purpose could be served by interfering now. Besides, with the ship
elevated, as was the usual custom, no hurt could come to the natives,
or district, and every man on board was supposed to be level-headed
and ought to know what he was doing. So Rollsborough made no comment,
but stood along with many of his companions and the natives, watching
the strange glow round the vessel, and thus they continued several
hours, during which gloom had fallen, and for the first time within
the history of this world there was dense, black night; the only light
seen was the ghastly, ghoulish glow round the vessel. The natives
insisted on their visitors going back to the ship, so Rollsborough and
his friends entered, and with closed doors and the artificial apparatus
going, they felt no inconvenience. So refreshing was this after the
heat outside, that they persuaded a number of the natives to enter, but
they could not breathe the air, which was _only_ air, and incapable
of supporting their life, so they had to leave hastily, but would not
hear of the visitors coming out of their ship again till the storm,
as they thought it, had passed. For even now, though they were so
extremely intelligent, they did not associate with it the _Regina_ and
the far-away world—never thinking that the world was coming straight at
them, like a shot out of a gun, for they knew the changes were really
electrical disturbances only, and bad as the effect was on the air,
it was their natural atmosphere, and they could endure it better than
their visitors; therefore, when they found those in the artificial air
were free from trouble, they insisted on their staying in the ship.
This consideration made the delinquents feel very guilty, and Godfrey
tried to persuade his friends to abandon their project, but they said
it was but a temporary inconvenience, and would pass away soon.

The ship was elevated about two hundred feet in the air, in order
that the powerful current projected should not damage the surrounding
country and the inhabitants, for with such a force, so long continued,
no power in nature could have prevented its blasting effect on
everything, and particularly in all those parts coming between the
approaching planet and the ship, where would lie an inconceivably
strong current of electricity, for they were, in reality, using their
vessel as a magnet, bridging the space by the mighty current. Such a
force could not do otherwise than disturb the elements, for the power
required to draw the world from such a distance would have fused the
very earth beneath, had the vessel been nearer the ground. And although
the objectors still disapproved of the whole scheme, the manner in
which the three owners manipulated the vessel so as to ensure the
absolute safety of the people below, compelled their enthusiastic
admiration. Awful and spectacular as the results became as the world
drew nearer, and the same forces were more spread locally, they knew
that beyond a few weeks’ inconvenience and semi-starvation, the natives
would be no worse, and not a blade of grass would be singed. And as
they received somewhat of the reflected forces, the vessel became the
centre of wonderful displays of electric fireworks, which were watched
by the people below with amazement, for they could not see the world
because of the clouds, and the people in the ship could not telepath
with them except when in close proximity. All around the ship and
high into the clouds, forming a magnificent, gigantic corona, there
shone a living, trembling flame, changing colour incessantly; the
electric fluid, like a sea, washed and lashed around the ship, and
leaped in waves and spray, dashing against the vessel; the spray flying
upwards like phantoms, the white wreaths of light floating away into
nothingness, forming and re-forming, till lost in the distant sky.
Every now and then some wave, more violent than the rest, would break
itself upward in a column of lightning, twisting and twining like a
fiery snake standing erect and writhing in agony. Higher and higher
these terrible columns would rise, becoming thicker and more lurid,
bending and straightening as though alive, while here and there two
would meet and float away upward, united by loops and tongues and
festoons of lively flame.

The people below, experienced as they were, and knowing there was
no real danger so long as the vessel was the centre of the storm,
as they believed, could not help being disturbed by the change in
the atmosphere, now so powerfully charged with electricity; and as
the world revolved, community after community beheld the wonderful
stationary ship, their preserver, and felt thankful it had come in
time to save them by bringing the elements to the focus of itself. At
her elevated position the _Regina_ remained poised and motionless—not
moving with the atmosphere, yet still in it—sending forth a steady,
continuous force, unerringly in the same direction.

“Is it wise to carry this so far?” again remonstrated Godfrey. “Won’t
the world come on and on and crash into this?”

“It would, of course, if we didn’t stop it in time,” smiled Gilbert.

“But how can you tell when it _is_ near enough to stop?”

“There are four days yet.”

“But Gilbert,” pleaded Godfrey, “are you justified in causing these
good people all this inconvenience? Is it fair play?” And turning round
impetuously, he spoke up so that all should hear,—“Rollsborough and
I and all of us who originally objected to this mad scheme decided
neither to hinder nor to help, but to be perfectly neutral, and to
this decision I was fully intending to adhere, but I had to keep saying
something in protest. Nobody admires and appreciates more than I do the
capabilities of the vessel and the amazing skill of the owners, but
because we have power and skill here, are we to misuse them, merely
to let these people see what we can do? It might be excusable in a
youngster, but it does not sit very well on any of us. _We_ are in
here, with pure air, good food, and everything to make us happy, and
yet we are calmly looking on while we cause visible discomfort, if not
actual pain, to the people below who are gasping for breath; these
people who have been so exceedingly good to us,—and we allow them to
think we are their benefactors! I call it cowardly! yes, cowardly!! and
a thing we shall look back upon with shame to our dying day. Believe
me, we shall! Planet-shifting is not in my line, I know nothing of
it—but I feel very warm on this matter. We are Britons, bred and born;
do let us act like Britons! and above all, like gentlemen; men of too
much honour to abuse our privileges. Surely in sending that planet out
of its orbit we did damage enough! You know what Shakespeare says,—‘It
is excellent to have a giant’s strength, but tyrannous to use it like
a giant.’ Let us be merciful! I can say no more, friends, or I shall
break down!” and good, well-meaning Godfrey, quite overcome, stepped
down from the stool upon which he had jumped.

For the space of a few seconds there was a deadly silence, and then as
if from one voice, they cheered Godfrey, and finally ‘chaired’ him.

As soon as silence was restored, Dennis spoke up,—“My friends, let us
with one accord thank Spenser here for showing us our duty. Our pride
has humbled us to the dust, and we have fallen—fallen lower than I care
to think about, but we will make what reparation we can! Ainley has
already corrected the current and in a few hours the air will improve.
Rollsborough and Sorrel, we want your advice as to what we shall do
with the other planet, if we have not forfeited the right to ask for
it.”

Their eyes filled with tears, the two stepped forward and remained in
long conversation with the three owners, looking at photographs and
drawings and making many calculations.

While they were thus engaged, the rest, now as repentant as they had
been reckless, went to the windows and looked out. All restraint was
now over, and every one without exception felt happy in having taken
the one and only honourable course—and as they gazed at the sea of
fire around them, which cut off all view from below, a great cloud
burst above them and rain fell in torrents; the lightning ran down the
rain as it fell, filling the air with solid pillars of fire. Flash
followed flash in such quick succession that they seemed to strike one
another long before reaching the ground; and the focus of the storm was
ever the good old ship, which stood unmoved, as though imperturbably
defiant, while the whole heavens seemed to have combined to wage war
against her in revenge for the disturbance she had caused. All the
electricity projected seemed to return with angry energy, flashing
and beating round the ship in mighty fury, the _Regina_ answering
flash with flash till the fury was augmented instead of reduced, as
the teeming heavens sluiced fire. As far as the eye could reach the
rain brought down the lightning in floods of vivid flame, and on all
sides the clouds were incessantly opening and belching out their
overcharges of electricity, accompanied by deafening thunder. In ten
or fifteen minutes the storm was spent, and gradually nothing remained
but an occasional feeble flicker and roll of thunder. Soon even this
ceased, and slowly the light returned as the clouds dispersed or were
dissipated, and around the ship only a faint glow remained. This began
to flicker like the light from a dying candle, each flicker seeming
the last; and finally, with a last splash of light, all was gone.

Instantly the ship fell and the occupants came out, to be greeted
effusively by the grateful people. “You have done this!” telepathed the
principal of the observatory. “How can we thank you?”

“Thanks!” telepathed Dennis, stepping forward. “You have little to
thank us for!” and with feelings of deep shame, he telepathed a full
confession.

“But what have you done with the planet? How can it remain where it is
if the forces are stopped?”

“It is now under the influence of your world’s attraction, and
travelling with you as a binary, and as you see is too far off to
affect this planet for the short time it will stay.”

Then it was for the visitors to see what friendship was, to have
‘coals of fire’ heaped upon them, for the natives made light of their
sufferings, and not only telepathed that there was nothing to forgive,
but persisted in thanking them for their kindness in relieving them
from the dreadful atmosphere.

Such magnanimity made the visitors exceedingly contrite and feel that
they could have submitted to abuse, even, rather than such overwhelming
kindness and generosity; but it proved to them that in a higher life
feelings of evil and resentment find no place, but instead there is the
forgiveness that can both forget and forgive, though the past injuries
be incalculably great.

The attracted planet could not stay where it was for any great length
of time, as it would soon affect the climatic conditions of the world
to which it had been drawn, so the travellers were obliged to leave
their noble friends, who parted with them most affectionately, they
feeling sincere remorse at their treatment by the kind inhabitants as
they set out for the adjoining world, obtaining a splendid rebound
straight for the solar system with the absconding planet in their wake;
the position it should at that time be occupying having been correctly
worked out by Rollsborough, it was restored to its proper place and
orbit in which it sped onwards in its journey round the sun—this time
free from the belt of semi-opaque ether in which it had hitherto
floated. Then the _Regina_ settled into its atmosphere. First locating
the place where the mutineers had originally been stored, but finding
it a waste, they hunted for them with their glasses in many parts; and
at last, on a lonely shore, they saw two men, apparently terrestrials,
dirty and unkempt, their clothing and faces smeared and hair matted
with slime. These men, too feeble to stand without staggering,
signalled to the ship, which settled down to find two of the party of
which they were in search—Congreve and Hewitt. Several of the fellows
came out of the vessel and were told in a few words, rendered painful
by the cracked lips and tongue, where their companions were. Then came
the long and difficult task of getting the six men from the cave,
for they were all too ill to help themselves, and the entrance being
under water it was necessary to dive to get inside. However, it was
accomplished at last, though Dawson became unconscious again with the
effort, and the whole eight were soon on board the _Regina_ and well
looked after.

As they reclined in lounge-chairs enjoying the rest and comfort, and
already feeling considerably better, Bolford remarked,—“Did not the
_Regina_ send the planet ‘Ramsar’ out of its orbit?”

“Yes,” replied Ross, “I regret to say that is the case, I believe.”

“How did you do it, and why?” asked Siddall.

“We approached the planet from between it and Venus, and we must
have left it with a repulsive force and sent it off; it was quite an
accident.”

“But if you approached between it and Venus, and gave it a repulsive
force, it would have gone into the sun!” said Bolford. “I don’t
understand.”

“If you remember,” continued Ross, “we had to go round the world, and
we left it at the side near the sun. The attraction of the sun was so
enormous that we had to steady ourselves by converting some of the
attraction into repulsion, and the planet being then in our wake, must
by that have been projected out of its system, away from the sun.”

“Then how did you find us?” asked several, much interested.

“Rollsborough suggested this solution when we found you’d bolted.
Knowing the exact position when we left, and the planet’s gravity,
speed of travel, and orbit, and all the rest of it, he cleverly worked
out the direction in which you had been hurled and—here you are!”

While Ross was talking, the rest had gathered round, and as he
finished, they asked the mutineers for their story; Holt related the
account of their adventures, that is to say, the version which, while
in the cave, had been agreed upon to present to sympathising friends,—

“On our arrival, the first thing we did was to attach ourselves to the
various departments of science, for Siddall at once suggested that as
we had fallen we must, in the short time we should have to live, do
our best to work well and try to retrieve the past, and in this we all
concurred. We were doing excellent work when the people discovered
they were out of their orbit and blamed us for it. Fearing this was
correct, yet not knowing how, or why, we made light of it, and their
fears were allayed for the time being. However, time passed, and as the
climatic changes which were sure to follow such an event on a world
not intended to be so far away from the sun came along, we were blamed
more and more. To so sorry a pass did matters come that, although we
had been presented with no end of wealth, we had to leave it all, and
fly suddenly for our very lives. They hunted for us everywhere, and we
should have been killed months since, but for the cave.

“We found it by watching an animal dive in; eventually we killed the
beast and then one of us dived under to see if there was any shelter,
and, finding a cave, we lived there in terrible suffering through all
the changes the sudden departure from the sun brought about, till you
came and saved our lives.”

All the listeners, hearing of these unmerited sufferings, were filled
with remorse and, not knowing the actual facts—that a demoralised world
had just been returned to its proper orbit—felt they had been doubly
guilty in causing such disaster and, most of all, in putting the lives
of their eight companions in jeopardy. These expressions of sincere
sympathy were received by the eight victims of an unkind fate as the
apology to which they were entitled, and as the subject of the mutiny
was not referred to, they considered they had kept their good names
untarnished and won but the just reward of their integrity and, not to
be outdone in generosity, they virtuously forgave their commanders, and
unity was again restored.

That same day all the ‘wave’ instruments of Earth received the message,—

“In three days expect the _REGINA!_”




————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Crown 8vo., 6s.

                          “The Immortal Light,”
                                —— BY ——
                      JOHN MASTIN, F.S.A. +Scot.+,
               F.L.S., F.C.S., F.R.A.S., F.R.M.S., R.B.A.,

       Author of “The Stolen Planet;” “The True Analysis of Milk;”
     “Parasites of Insects;” “Plate-Culture and Staining of Amœbæ;”
                “Through the Sun in an Airship,” &c. &c.

                                 ——————

It is a scientific romance dealing with the adventures of a South Polar
expedition, and holds the reader in a tremendous grip of interest and
amazement from the first page to the last. Mr. Mastin has used his
profound knowledge of chemistry, physics and art, so delightfully that
the reader is fascinated with the simple, forceful, and convincing way
in which the mysteries of the Antarctic region are explained, and the
deep problems of science treated, and, whilst learning something from
every page, he is carried from adventure to adventure with thrilling
interest. The science and logic are so sound, and the story is so
graphically written that the reader almost believes the adventures
to have really happened. For sheer imaginative power alone the book
demands first place amongst recent publications.

          HIS MAJESTY THE KING HAS MOST GRACIOUSLY CONDESCENDED
                     TO ACCEPT A COPY OF THIS BOOK.
========================================================================
“Profound as is Mr. Mastin’s scientific knowledge, he never lets his
technicalities interfere with the clear understanding of his story,
either explaining them or putting them in such a way as to make them
plain to the uninitiated.”—_Publisher and Bookseller._

“More daring than Poe’s ‘Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket’
is Mr. Mastin’s romance of Antarctic adventure; for Poe, having
introduced a giant ‘of the perfect whiteness of the snow,’ regrets the
loss of his crowning chapters. Certainly, if the matter which they
contained ‘relative to the Pole itself, or at least to regions in its
very near proximity,’ was as sensational as ‘The Immortal Light,’ the
loss is deplorable.... The story is wildly improbable, but confronts
incredulity with a considerable display of scientific detail. A strong
religious feeling animates the last part of the book.”—_Athenæum._

“To say that this is a really clever story is but bestowing on its
author, Mr. John Mastin, praise which is well deserved.... The
experiences of the explorers in conquering the ice barrier of the
South, as told by the writer, makes delightful reading. Although the
story is fiction unadulterated, it is of absorbing interest, and
even the most fastidious reader could not fail to find some charm in
a perusal of its pages.... That the bounds of possibility have been
far overstepped is only natural.... But with rare literary skill the
author discounts these by the many charms of a story which is well
told. The character studies are good, and many excellent word-pictures
are painted in glowing colours by the picturesque pen of the
author.”—_Western Daily Press._

“The book is exceedingly clever and up to date.”—_Glasgow Herald._

“What Jules Verne did with the science of the seventies and eighties,
Mr. Mastin does for the science of to-day.... Youth, if it has a
scientific turn of mind and some imagination, will revel in this
book.... We can heartily congratulate him on the imaginative power
which his book displays. That never flags, and he carries us on from
wonder to wonder as if he need never stop.”—_Sheffield Telegraph._

“Some of the speculations on the wonders of life and the possibilities
of science are broad, ingenious, and fascinating.... From telepathy to
telescopes which see everywhere, and from rides on ether to steel that
will line coats, Mr. Mastin ranges with plausible certitude.... ‘The
Immortal Light’ is an amazing book.”—_Sheffield Daily Independent._

“The plot is exciting.”—_Morning Leader._

“Mr. Mastin is thoroughly up to date in his paraphernalia.”—_Yorkshire
Post._

“But the work, while an intelligent boy could not read it without a
keen enjoyment, has a scientific weight, a plausibility of inductive
and deductive reasoning upon a basis of natural law, which takes it
well out of the category of the merely fantastic.”—_Scotsman._

“There are minute descriptions of all the wonderful inventions made
by a strange race which talks Latin and lives underground. The author
is evidently a learned scientist and ... quite as accurate as Jules
Verne.... He possesses a vivid imagination.... I may safely recommend
the story.”—_John Bull._
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————




Crown 8vo., 3s. 6d.

                          “The Stolen Planet,”
                          A SCIENTIFIC ROMANCE,
                                —— BY ——
                      JOHN MASTIN, F.S.A. +Scot.+,
               F.L.S., F.C.S., F.R.A.S., F.R.M.S., R.B.A.,

      Author of “The Immortal Light;” “The True Analysis of Milk;”
     “Parasites of Insects;” “Plate-Culture and Staining of Amœbæ;”
                “Through the Sun in an Airship,” &c. &c.

                                 ——————

=Sir Wyke Bayliss, late President of the Royal Society of British
Artists, on reading Mr. Mastin’s M.S. of “THE STOLEN PLANET,” wrote:
“It is a long time since I have read anything so brilliant.”=

=His Majesty the King has most graciously condescended to accept a copy
of this book.=

=H.R.H. the Princess of Wales has graciously condescended to accept a
copy of this book on behalf of H.R.H. Prince Edward of Wales.=

                                 ——————

It is impossible to give in a few lines any adequate idea of the
amazing adventures of Jervis Meredith and his friend Fraser Burnley in
their journeys through the unlimited space of the stellar universe,
their visits to the various planets in their magnificently propelled
vessel, and the fantastically humorous situation which brings their
exploits to a fitting conclusion. Even Mr. H. G. Wells and his famous
predecessor, Jules Verne, have not handled their subjects with such
complete success as Mr. Mastin has done in this, his first imaginative
work.

========================================================================

“It is a graphic and exciting tale.”—_The Times._

“Certain it is that the reading of this capital story will prove
exciting, for compared with the adventures therein written, the books
of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells read like the placid pages of Miss
Austen’s novels.”—_Daily Telegraph._

“The adventures ... are told with a verve which never flags. As a
consequence, the reader, who is attracted by the rollicking schoolboy
humour of the opening chapters, soon becomes absorbed, and is carried
wondering from adventure to adventure.”—_Sheffield Daily Telegraph._

“An interesting story in the Jules Verne manner.”—_The Bookman._

“Without the extraordinary detail that Jules Verne introduces into
his stories, it adopts a scientific basis throughout, and the reader
takes an interesting journey through space.... The story will make a
capital gift-book for boys of a scientific turn of mind.”—_Publishers’
Circular._

“The wonders of Jules Verne pale before this thrilling account of a
voyage through the air to other worlds.”—_Outlook._

“Mr. Mastin’s ingenious and engaging fantasy ... he is to be commended
for resource, ingenuity, and persistent vigour of narrative.”—_Glasgow
Herald._

“The experiences of the two men in their aerostat make most exciting
reading.”—_Aberdeen Free Press._

“Our heroes sailed away in an aerostat and met with many unique
adventures ... it might really all have happened.”—_Publisher and
Bookseller._
                        ————————————————————————
          _Companion book to “Through the Sun in an Airship.”_
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
       CHARLES GRIFFIN & Co., Ltd., Exeter Street, Strand, LONDON.




                          Transcriber’s Notes:

  • Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
  • Text enclosed by pluses is in small caps (+small caps+).
  • Text enclosed by equals is in Antiqua (=Antiqua=).
  • Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.
  • Errata on page 314 have been applied.
  • In chapter 13, there is a reference to “the devastating eruption
    and earthquake of 2316 +a.d.+”, which is obviously incorrect.
    But the transcriber could not find a candidate for the actual
    date, so it is left as-is.


*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77867 ***