As he spoke he brought the ship to a standstill--it remained absolutely motionless except for the slight swaying as though touched by wave-like ripples of air. Morgana went to the window aperture of her silken-lined "drawing-room" and looked out. All round the great air-ship were the illimitable s.p.a.ces of the sky, now of a dense dark violet hue with here and there a streak of dull red remaining of the glow of the vanished sun,--below there was only blackness. For the first time a nervous thrill ran through her frame at the look of this dark chaos--and she turned quickly back to the table where Rivardi and Gaspard awaited her before sitting down to their meal. Something quite foreign to her courageous spirit chilled her blood, but she fought against it, and seating herself became the charming hostess to her two companions as they ate and drank, though she took scarcely anything herself. For most unquestionably there was something uncanny in a meal served under such strange circ.u.mstances, and so far as the two men were concerned it was only eaten to sustain strength.
"Well, now, have I not been very good?" she asked suddenly of Rivardi--"Did I not say you should fly with me to the East, and are you not here? I have not come alone--though that was my wish,--I have even brought Gaspard who had no great taste for the trip!"
Gaspard moved uneasily.
"That is true, Madama,"--he said--"The art of flying is still in its infancy, and though in my profession as an engineer I have studied and worked out many problems, I dare not say I have fathomed all the mysteries of the air or the influences of atmosphere. I am glad that we have made this voyage safely so far--but I shall be still more glad when we return to Sicily!"
Morgana laughed.
"We can do that to-morrow, I dare say!" she said; "If there is nothing to see in the whole expanse of the desert but dark emptiness"--
"But--what do you expect to see, Madama?" enquired Gaspard, with lively curiosity.
She laughed again as she met Rivardi"s keen glance.
"Why, ruins of temples--columns--colossi--a new Sphinx-all sorts of things!" she replied--"But at night, of course, we can see nothing--and we must move onward slowly--I cannot rest swaying like this in mid-air." She put aside the dinner things, and served them with hot coffee from one of the convenient flasks that hold fluids hot or cold for an interminable time, and when they had finished this, they went back to their separate posts. The great ship began to move--and she was relieved to feel it sailing steadily, though at almost a snail"s pace "on the bosom of the air." The oppressive nervousness which affected her had not diminished; she could not account for it to herself,--and to rally her forces she went to the window, so-called, of her luxurious cabin. This was a wide aperture filled in with a transparent, crystal-clear material, which looked like gla.s.s, but which was wholly unbreakable, and through this she gazed, awe-smitten, at the magnificence of the starry sky. The millions upon millions of worlds which keep the mystery of their being veiled from humanity flashed upon her eyes and moved her mind to a profound sadness.
"What is the use of it all!" she thought--"If one could only find the purpose of this amazing creation! We learn a very little, only to see how much more there is to know! We live our lives, all hoping, searching, praying--and never an answer comes for all our prayers! From the very beginning--not a word from the mysterious Poet who has written the Poem! We are to breed and die--and there an end!--it seems strange and cruel, because so purposeless! Or is it our fault? Do we fail to discover the things we ought to know?"
So she mused, while her "White Eagle" ship sailed serenely on with a leisurely, majestic motion through a seeming wilderness of stars.
Courageous as she was, with a veritable lion-heart beating in her delicate little body, and firm as was her resolve to discover what no woman had ever discovered before, to-night she was conscious of actual fear. Something--she knew not what--crept with a compelling influence through her blood,--she felt that some mysterious force she had never reckoned with was insidiously surrounding her with an invisible ring.
She called to Rivardi--
"Are we not flying too high? Have you altered the course?"
"No, Madama," he replied at once--"We are on the same level."
She turned towards him. Her face was very pale.
"Well--be careful! To my mind we seem to be in a new atmosphere--there is a sensation of greater tension in the air--or--it is my fancy. We must not be too adventurous,--we must avoid the Great Nebula in Orion for example!"
"Madama, you jest! We are trillions upon trillions of miles distant from any great constellation--"
"Do I not know it? You are too literal, Marchese! Of course I jest--you could not suppose me to be in earnest! But I am sure we are pa.s.sing through the waves of a new ether--not altogether suited to the average human being. The average human being is not made to inhabit the higher s.p.a.ces of the upper air--hark!--What was that?"
She held up a warning hand, and listened. There was a distinct and persistent chiming of bells. Bells loud and soft,--bells mellow and deep, clear and silvery--clanging in ba.s.s and treble shocks of rising and falling rhythm and tune! "Do you hear?"
Rivardi and Gaspard simultaneously rose to their feet, amazed.
Undoubtedly they heard! It was impossible NOT to hear such a clamour of concordant sound! Startled beyond all expression, Morgana sprang to the window of her cabin, and looking out uttered a cry of mingled terror and rapture... for there below her, in the previously inky blackness of the Great Desert, lay a great City, stretching out for miles, and glittering from end to end with a peculiarly deep golden light which seemed to bathe it in the l.u.s.tre of a setting sun. Towers, cupolas, bridges, streets, squares, parks and gardens could be plainly seen from the air-ship, which had suddenly stopped, and now hung immovably in mid-air; though for some moments Morgana was too excited to notice this. Again she called to her companions--
"Look! Look!" she exclaimed--"We have found it! The Brazen City!"
But she called in vain. Turning for response, she saw, to her amazement and alarm, both men stretched on the floor, senseless! She ran to them and made every effort to rouse them,--they were breathing evenly and quietly as in profound and comfortable sleep--but it was beyond her skill to renew their consciousness. Then it flashed upon her that the "White Eagle" was no longer moving,--that it was, in fact, quite stationary,--and a quick rush of energy filled her as she realised that now she was as she had wished to be, alone with her air-ship to do with it as she would. All fear had left her,--her nerves were steady, and her daring spirit was fired with resolution. Whatever the mischance which had so swiftly overwhelmed Rivardi and Gaspard, she could not stop now to question, or determine it,--she was satisfied that they were not dead, or dying. She went to the steering-gear to take it in hand--but though the mysterious mechanism of the air-ship was silently and rapidly throbbing, the ship did not move. She grasped the propeller--it resisted her touch with hard and absolute inflexibility.
All at once a low deep voice spoke close to her ear--
"Do not try to steer. You cannot proceed."
Her heart gave one wild bound,--then almost stood still from sheer terror. She felt herself swaying into unconsciousness, and made a violent effort to master the physical weakness that threatened her.
That voice--what voice? Surely one evoked from her own imagination! It spoke again--this time with an intonation that was exquisitely soothing and tender.
"Why are you afraid? For you there is nothing to fear!"
She raised her eyes and looked about nervously. The soft luminance which lit the "White Eagle"s" interior from end to end showed nothing new or alarming,--her dainty, rose-lined cabin held no strange or supernatural visitant,--all was as usual. After a pause she rallied strength enough to question the audible but invisible intruder.
"Who is it that speaks to me?" she asked, faintly.
"One from the city below,"--was the instant reply given in full clear accents--"I am speaking on the Sound Ray."
She held her breath in mute wonder, listening. The voice went on, equably--
"You know the use of wireless telephony--we have it as you have it, only your methods are imperfect. We speak on Sound Rays which are not yet discovered in your country. We need neither transmitter nor receiver. Wherever we send our messages, no matter how great the distance, they are always heard."
Slowly Morgana began to regain courage. By degrees she realised that she was attaining the wish of her heart--namely, to know what no woman had ever known before. Again she questioned the voice--
"You tell me I cannot proceed,"--she said--"Why?"
"Because our city is guarded and fortified by the air,"--was the answer--"We are surrounded by a belt of etheric force through which nothing can pa.s.s. A million bombs could not break it,--everything driven against it would be dashed to pieces. We saw you coming--we were surprised, for no air-ship has ever ventured so far--we rang the bells of the city to warn you, and stopped your flight."
The warm gentleness of the voice thrilled her with a sudden sympathy.
"That was kind!" she said, and smiled. Some one smiled in response--or she thought so. Presently she spoke again--
"Then you hold me here a prisoner?"
"No. You can return the way you came, quite freely."
"May I not come down and see your city?" "No."
"Why?"
"Because you are not one of us." The Voice hesitated. "And because you are not alone."
Morgana glanced at the prostrate and unconscious forms of Rivardi and Gaspard with a touch of pity.
"My companions are half dead!" she said.
"But not wholly!" was the prompt reply.
"Is it that force you speak of--the force which guards your city--that has struck them down?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Then why was I not also struck down?"
"Because you are what you are!" Then--after a silence--"You are Morgana!"
At this every nerve in her body started quivering like harp strings pulled by testing fingers. The unseen speaker knew her name!--and uttered it with a soft delicacy that made it sound more than musical.
She leaned forward, extending a hand as though to touch the invisible.