A Columbus of Space, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 16-24

by Garrett P. Serviss.
First published in 1909
Published in Amazing Stories, October 1926, pp. 596-615, 669.

WHAT WENT BEFORE. The hero of the story, Edmund Stonewall, has discovered how to utilize atomic energy. He constructs a car that can traverse interplanetary space, actuated by this energy, and with two friends starts on a trip to the planet Venus, not disclosing to them his intention at first. He reaches a rather desolate part of the planet, where daylight never appears, sees the almost apelike inhabitants, cave dwellers, who wish to sacrifice one of them to the gods, and they rescue the proposed victim only by killing the High Priest. They get in among the valleys in a mountain of ice, on the edge of the dark face of the planet, taking with them some of the cave dwellers on sleds. The car with sleds fastened alongside and all but one of the cave dwellers upon them, is carried now along a sort of glacial stream, but soon sleds and the unfortunate occupants disappear, and our travelers are left with only one of the apelike cave dwellers, Juba, as company. Now they reach the warm regions of Venus, where there is perpetual day, and there find a highly developed race who communicate with each other by a species of telepathy, and our travelers are enchanted by the beautiful appearance of the beings, who are superior in every way to terrestrial mankind.

As they fly, a terrible catastrophe is narrowly averted, Edmund shooting the steersman on a threatening airplane. A beautiful woman, Ala, the heroine of the story, saves them from the wrath of the moo by her influence; she and Edmund fall in love with each other. Edmund has a rival, Ingra, in his claims on Ala, and the plotting and deeds of Ingra are directed to getting rid of the earthly visitors. They explore the country, are threatened by a huge monster, and at last get into a true Eden on the planet. The story leaves them with Ingra and his party in the midst of an attack upon the earthly visitors and upon Ala’s escort.

INTRODUCTION. In the concluding chapters of this charming interplanetarian tale, we find our heroes beset by many new and extraordinary dangers. There is hardly a page of the concluding chapters in which excitement does not run high. We are not going to tell you the end of the story, because we do not wish to spoil it for you.

As in the previous installments, Professor Garrett P. Serviss has given an accurate scientific analysis of what may be found on Venus should the planet ever be explored.

16B. Turning the Tables, continued

Our assailants retreated into the bashes as we threatened them with the pistols, but Edmund would not allow Ingra to escape with the others. The fellow was completely cowed, knowing the deadly power of our pistols, and he obeyed Edmund’s commands with a dejected air, occasionally glancing at Ala, who disdained to return his look.

Edmund backed him into the open door of the car, and we all entered, after hunting up the maid who, half scared to death, had concealed herself in the bushes. Then Edmund closed the door and turned to the machinery, leaving to us the care of guarding our prisoner.

The latter sat quietly enough on a bench, Jack on one side of him and I on the other, while Ala placed herself as far from him as she could get.

I wondered at the fellow’s audacity. Surely no man in his senses would have thought of winning a woman’s heart by violence, but evidently his passionate nature had overcome all scruples of reason, and as for conscience, he had none.

Ala’s detestation of him was written on her every feature.

After we had got out of the wild tangle of branches, vines, and flowers, the car rose to a considerable elevation, and Edmund circled about to get his bearings. Then Ala went to his side.

Conversing together, they looked out of the windows, and she indicated the direction that we were to pursue. First we darted high in the air, and then set off at a great rate. It now became evident at what a vast distance from the capital, and from the inhabited lands of Venus, we had landed in our wild descent from the cloud dome.

But for Ala’s topographical knowledge, we should have been long in finding the proper route.

The way once pointed out, however, we never swerved aside, and Edmund worked up the speed to as high a point as he deemed safe in that dense atmosphere, which seemed to flow in translucent waves about the sides of the rushing car. At last I asked Edmund what he intended to do with the prisoner.

“I’ll put him behind bars,” he replied grimly, “if I have to construct them myself.”

Notwithstanding our great speed, the journey was a long one. We kept at an elevation of several miles, in order to command a wide view, and the scene was magnificent. The wilderness we were leaving behind was in a tropical zone, on the borders of that savage region where we had encountered the saurian monster, and a vast roll of strangely glowing clouds lay upon the far horizon.

But beneath us the country continually improved in aspect, signs of cultivation making their appearance, until at length we began to pass over villages, and then over small cities, each of which, in imitation of the metropolis, had its little group of aerial towers, with fluttering banners. Occasionally we saw a few airships at a distance, traveling in various directions, and these became more numerous as we approached the capital.

Our approach was not unobserved, and a crowd of planes and airships came to meet and escort us as we drew near. Our reception at the principal landing of the great tower was most joyous.

The aerial part of the city seemed suddenly to swarm with inhabitants, and the air was filled with excited excursionists rushing together from all sides.

On approaching the landing-stage, I saw a throng of brilliantly dressed people and officials awaiting us with welcoming smiles and gestures, and among them, to my great pleasure, I noticed Juba, standing in the foremost rank, treated with evident respect, and showing every sign of joy on his broad, hairy face. We had been absent not more than 24 hours, but we were greeted as warmly as if our stay had been a year.

No sooner was the car well over the landing than Edmund brought it to rest upon the broad platform, and threw open the door. Jack and Henry were the first to alight. The maid followed them, and I came next.

Edmund lingered a moment to secure something in the mechanism, and Ala stayed near him, while Ingra was behind them.

During the trip I had not liked Ingra’s conduct; though, I confess, I do not know exactly how he could have pleased me in his bearing. But, at any rate, I felt an indefinite sense of anxiety whenever I glanced at him. He remained all the while in moody silence, occasionally looking at Ala in a way I did not fancy, but most of the time fixing his eyes covertly upon Edmund, whose every movement he watched as he manipulated the controlers.

Somehow, he impressed me with the idea that he was planning a stroke against us, and when I stepped from the car my anxiety suddenly flashed into a vivid apprehension of evil, and I could not resist turning back and saying to Edmund:

“Look out for Ingra, Edmund. He means no good.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him,” Edmund replied, glancing with a smile over his shoulder as he tightened a little hand-wheel.

A moment later Edmund approached the door, beckoned to Ala to follow. I saw now that he intended to leave Ingra in the car until he could explain the situation, and provide for his incarceration.

What followed was like a lightning-stroke.

I saw Edmund pitch forward, propelled from the car-door as if he had been shot out, and an instant afterward the door was slammed to, and I heard the bars fall into place.

Edmund recovered himself in a moment, and together we sprang at the closed door and threw ourselves against it. Of course, we made no impression. Edmund’s face was as pale as a sheet.

“Quick—for Heaven’s sake!” he cried. “Get something! Get me a bar! I must break it somehow. This is awful! Ala—inside! Can nobody get me a bar of steel?”

The crowd pressed round us, without comprehending what was going on. Nobody except ourselves knew that Ingra was in the car. Edmund ran to one of the windows, but even as he reached it the steel shutter was closed with a bang from within, and we heard the bolts shoot into their sockets.

It was the only time in my acquaintance with him that I ever saw Edmund Stonewall for an instant lose his wits. He seemed not to know what to do.

His face was dreadful to look upon. He pounded with his fists upon the steel walls of the car until his knuckles reddened.

As for the rest of us, we knew no more than he what to do. The excitement spread to the crowd, and they pressed upon us with wondering looks and exclamations.

A minute or two passed in this helpless agitation, and then the car gave a lurch, and a second later it rose from the platform!

Edmund cried out in helpless, passionate fear.

In a moment the car was a yard above the platform, and gathering speed. I felt my heart sink. Edmund became, if possible, paler than before.

“Hold it! Hold it!” he shouted, and with him I tried to grasp the smooth, polished walls that slipped away from our hands.

At this moment there was a rush in the crowd. People were flung aside, and to my amazement, as the car rose in the air, I saw Juba make a mighty leap, seize the steel grating covering one of the windows, and soar away with the machine like a huge baboon hanging on the outside of a cage.

Then the car shot toward the sky!

17. To the Rescue

A low exclamation, magnified by the multitude of strange voices into a mighty murmur, rose from the crowd, and every eye followed the retreating car.

In this emergency all of Edmund’s sagacity and self-command instantly came back. He was once more the cool, resourceful master of the situation.

“An airplane!” he shouted, and at the word sprang toward one of the floating machines beside the landing.

Brushing aside the engineer, in a moment he had the machine in control. Jack and I were upon his heels, but Henry was not quick enough, and was left behind. There were only four or five men, the crew of the plane, on the craft.

With a skill and rapidity that astonished me, well as I knew his capacity, Edmund swung the huge machine round and, with reckless disregard of consequences, set the driving-screws whirring at their highest speed. The great tower seemed to melt away behind us, so quickly did we leave it.

But it was a mad chase.

What could this air-driven craft do against the car impelled by the mysterious interatomic force? Already the latter was rapidly diminishing with distance. Still, we could see Juba clinging to the window-grating, although at every instant I expected him to fall.

But Edmund would not despair. His eyes shone as he drove the machinery of the plane to its utmost limit. The crew were stupefied, and offered no opposition.

“We must not lose sight of them,” said Edmund, his self-control becoming more perfect as the minutes passed. “We must never lose sight of them for an instant.”

“But surely,” I exclaimed, “you cannot hope to overtake them?”

“Yes,” he said almost fiercely, “I hope even that! Remember,” he added more coolly, “that Ingra really knows nothing of the management of the controllers. He has watched me operate them long enough to know how to start the car; Unless Heaven is against us, he will not be able to work it up to its best speed, and he can hardly direct it with certainty. At any moment he may find himself descending. Heaven grant that they do not come down with a rush.”

“But there is Ala,” I said. “She knows how to manage the machinery. Perhaps he will be compelled to entrust it to her.”

Edmund ground his teeth in rage at my words,

“Yes, Ala is there, a prisoner!”

“And Juba,” I added.

“But how long can he remain on that fearful perch? And what can he do?”

“If they are aware of his presence,” I suggested, “perhaps Ala may find a way to communicate with him, and aid him in his efforts.”

The idea seemed to strike Edmund, and he joyfully replied:

“Yes, yes, surely she will find a way. She is a great woman—a woman to trust in an emergency. What a brave act that was of Juba’s! Who could have dreamed that under his shaggy exterior there was a heart of gold, and so quick a brain?”

“He was the head blacksmith in the cavern,” said Jack. “If there is any way to get into that car, he will find it.”

“It can only be done by aid from within,” replied Edmund. “But I trust to Ala. She will find a way.”

“They cannot but be aware that Juba is on the car,” I said. “They must surely hear him, and his mere presence will have its effect.”

“If Ingra does not contrive to throw him off,” suggested Jack.

“He cannot get at him,” was Edmund’s reply. “If only he doesn’t lose his breath with the swift motion, and if his strength holds out, all may be well. But we must keep them in sight. It is our only chance, and theirs.”

The car was now so far away that it looked very small; but, being thrown in silhouette against the softly glowing cloud dome—for it was at a greater elevation than ours—we could still, with the aid of a glass, clearly see Juba clinging to the outside.

It was a comfort to know that he was yet able to retain his perch. If he could stay there to the end, he might be of estimable service when the crisis should arrive

At first I was somewhat surprised that Edmund kept at so low an elevation compared with that of the fleeing car. We were not more than a half-mile above the ground, while the object of our pursuit was at least three miles high. But in a little while it became obvious that the course which Edmund had adopted was a very wise one. In the first place, by keeping at a low elevation we could always see the car projected against the bright sky, and there was thus less danger of its escaping us.

In the next place, as Edmund pointed out, when the car came down, as it must do some time, we could cut in under it, so to speak, and approach the landing-point along a baseline shorter than the diagonal that the car would have to pursue.

“The higher he goes,” said Edmund, “the greater our advantage will be. Fortunately, he seems to he rising all the time. There is no danger that he will run away in that direction.

“He has no conception of anything above the cloud dome, and his only object is to get as far away as possible, in order to defy pursuit before landing. I expect every moment, now, to see him begin to descend.”

“But are you sure that he can manipulate the controllers well enough to make a safe descent?” I asked.

“Let us pray that he can,” replied Edmund. “I will give him credit for great Intelligence. If he did not possess extraordinary capacity, he would never have learned, simply by watching me, how to run the machinery.

“The fact that he could penetrate so far gives me hope, that he has learned enough to insure their safety. The high-speed controllers, used when astride the atmosphere, are in a different location from the others, and are manipulated somewhat differently.

“I did not touch them during our journey, so that I have little fear that he will discover their use. It is now evident that we can at least keep the car in sight.

“The resistance of this dense atmosphere is a serious obstacle to a machine which, unlike the plane, does not derive an advantage from that very circumstance.”

We were now many miles from the capital, and traveling toward the tropical belt. It was evident that Ingra intended to take refuge again in the wilderness, though at a point far distant from the place where we had so recently encountered him.

“Ala has told me,” said Edmund, “that Ingra, who is very fond of wild sports, and who until our arrival seems to have exhibited no evil characteristics, has a number of hunting lodges in this vast wilderness, and it was due to the unlucky fate that guided us in our descent that we fell into his hands.

“For, unknowingly, we came down within a half-mile of one of his lodges. He always has a retinue in attendance at his lodges, and probably he is now making for one of these places.”

“Do you think they are aware that we are following?”

“Of course, they will expect to be pursued, but I am in hopes that Ingra has not seen us, and does not know that we have kept within eyesight. You remember that the car has no window in the rear—a mistake of construction which until now I have regretted. It has not swerved from its course since starting, and I have been careful to keep directly behind it.

“Consequently, there is every reason to think that Ingra, trusting to the speed of the car, has not even taken the trouble to look behind. Besides, we have kept comparatively close to the ground, where it is not easy to see us from a distance, and the moment I perceive the car beginning to descend I shall run down to the very treetops in order to be the better concealed.”

Our hopes now rose high. We had demonstrated an ability to keep the car in view, though, to be sure, it had become little more than a dark speck in the sky, and its steady motion relieved our anxiety concerning a possible disaster from Ingra’s inability to manage it.

Several hours passed, and once more we had left the inhabited lands behind and were passing over the border of the wilderness, where the luxuriance of the vegetation surpassed that of the Amazonian forests of the wilds of Borneo.

Suddenly, Edmund uttered an exclamation.

“Great Heavens!” he cried, “Look! Something is wrong. It is all to end in disaster at last!”

Jack and I, startled by Edmund’s agitation, glanced at the distant car. It was falling from the sky!

It shot hither and thither, sweeping in long descending curves, and darting to one side and another, like a collapsed balloon.

“What can have happened?” I exclaimed. “Good Heavens! If Juba should be flung off now, our only ally would he lost.”

“No; we have another,” said Edmund quietly, all his self-mastery asserting itself—“Ala, herself.”

“Look,” he continued, a moment afterward, “the car rights itself. It will come down all right.”

It was so. The eccentric movements ceased, and we saw the car descending rapidly, but with a steady motion which indicated that it was again under control. During the 10 minutes that the wild tumble lasted, it had fallen within half a mile of the ground, and now it was gliding swiftly away from us, over the top of the great forest.

Edmund strove to increase our speed, making the silent engineer and his men aid him with their utmost exertions. Glancing behind, I now noticed, for the first time, that several airplanes were pursuing us; but they were far behind.

They had probably started in pursuit as soon as possible after our chase began, but we had been so absorbed in watching the car that we had not even thought of looking behind. We had trusted entirely to ourselves, but now I felt a satisfaction in knowing that we should have assistance in an emergency.

I called Edmund’s attention to our pursuers, but he gave no heed. His whole mind and soul were fixed upon the car. In a little while it had descended so low that it became necessary for us to rise, in order to keep it in view.

Nevertheless, as Edmund had foreseen, our course, lying so near the ground, had given us a certain advantage, and we had drawn perceptibly nearer while running for the point toward which the car was descending. Still, it now became very difficult to keep the object of our pursuit in view.

At times we lost sight of it entirely against the dark background of foliage. But an occasional gleam from the polished sides of the car enabled us to retain a general notion of its location.

At last it dropped into the great sea of vegetation, and was completely lost. At this time we were apparently, about three miles behind it. “Keep your eyes fixed on the point where it disappeared,” said Edmund. “Don’t let your sight waver. I shall make straight for the place.”

Fortune favored us, for at the spot where the car had sunk from sight a group of enormous trees lifted their mighty tops high above the general surface of the forest, and this landmark was invaluable to us.

When we had run within an eighth of a mile of these trees, Edmund at last slowed up, and got the airplane under perfect control.

We crept silently above the treetops, every eye fixed upon the spot where we expected at any moment to see the car.

Suddenly a forest glade appeared, shadowed by the very trees that had served as our guides, and there was the car resting upon the ground! The door was toward us, and open.

In it stood Ala, looking with a horrified countenance upon a spectacle that might well have frozen her blood.

Ingra and Juba were engaged in a terrific battle. At one moment they rolled upon the ground, locked together, looking like a man and a wild beast at death-grips.

Each was fiercely exerting his utmost strength. Now one, now the other, was on top.

Each endeavoring to throttle the other, they revolved so rapidly that the eye could hardly follow the successive phases of the struggle.

Suddenly they rolled against a rock, and the shock releasing their hold, both leaped to their feet. But neither flinched, nor gave back.

They sprang together again with demoniac fury, Juba’s huge eyes blazing out of the wild tangle of his hair, while his huge, shaggy arms resembled those of a bear rushing madly to the death-hug.

But Ingra was a foe worthy to encounter so formidable an antagonist. With amazing strength and agility, he hurled his assailant backward, and then, to my horror, I saw that he had his long knife in his hand, while Juba had no weapon.

Lowering his form as he sped to the onset, and with a wicked lunge, Ingra darted upon his foe. For an instant I thought that the blade had reached the vitals of his antagonist, for Juba staggered backward, but a second later Ingra shot away as if the walking-beam of an engine had struck him, and fell, stunned and motionless.

Juba’s mighty foot had been propelled against his chest, for, like a Frenchman, the creature fought with arms and legs alike.

“Now you have him!” shouted Jack, dancing with excitement, as Edmund swept the airplane toward the spot. “Pin him down! Don’t let him up!”

Juba sprang at his foe, but the latter had been driven so far away by the terrible blow that before Juba could seize him he had recovered, and was on his feet again.

“Don’t let him get away,” cried Edmund, leaping from the airplane as it touched the ground, and rushing, with Jack and me on his heels, to the scene of the encounter.

But Ingra was too quick.

Seeing his enemies swarming, he turned and ran with the speed of a deer.

In a second he had disappeared in the undergrowth.

18. We Find Another Enemy

After struggling and stumbling through the thicket for a few minutes, we gave up the chase sooner than we should have done on account of Edmund’s anxiety to return to Ala, who had remained where we first saw her, standing in the door of the car.

When he stopped, we all stopped; though Juba, whose blood was up, would have continued the pursuit if he had not been compelled to desist. He disregarded the rest of us, but obeyed Edmund’s call like a faithful hound.

It was a great disappointment that Ingra had escaped, but there was no help for it. We must face the consequences, and probably there was not one of us who did not feel an unuttered foreboding of disaster. We had made for ourselves a terrible enemy, and it was perfectly certain that as long as we remained he would pursue us with all the energy of his fiercely passionate nature and the resources of his acute mind.

Edmund expressed this when he exclaimed, on our hurried return to the car:

“That fellow and I cannot both live in this world. He will not let me alone, but I will never run from him.”

“Then why don’t you get out of his world?” said Jack, who sometimes expressed rather bluntly his suddenly conceived notion of right and justice. “You are the interloper, not he.”

“Am I an interloper,” replied Edmund, with flashing eye and flushed cheek, “when she”—pointing to Ala, who, having heard of our approach, came joyously to meet us—“calls upon me to defend her?”

Jack made no reply, but whispered in my ear:

“Jove! I don’t blame him. I’d die fighting for her myself.”

Ala’s beauty seemed tenfold greater in the flush of excitement that overspread her features. She greeted us with hardly less warmth than she bestowed upon Edmund, and the caressing touch of her hand on Juba’s hairy arm was a reward that the poor fellow plainly accepted in full compensation for the fearful risk he had run. And he deserved her thanks because, but for his presence, Ingra would have abducted Ala as soon as the car landed, and we should have arrived too late.

We had hardly reached the car again when one of the pursuing planes came up, and close after it followed several more. They brought a number of court officials and attendants, who were quite in the dark as to the meaning of this extraordinary escapade. For, it will be remembered, there had been no time to tell anybody of the presence of Ingra in the car when we arrived at the tower.

Ala explained the situation, and the excitement of her friends was laughable. They ran about in the underbrush, anxious to show their devotion, and possibly thinking that they would find the fugitive concealed close at hand.

But Ala recalled them; and, as more planes arrived, organized the search with a rapidity that increased my respect for her ability. There was one remarkable feature in her intercourse with her people that struck me with great force.

She was a queen, and she had the look and bearing of one when she chose to assert her authority; but there was no appearance of servility in the manner of those surrounding her, and she demanded none. If ever there was a democratic Queen, it was she. Everybody recognized her rank, but it was rather with evidences of admiration and love than of mere submission.

In a few minutes she had arranged her plan. Airplanes were sent scouting over the forest in all directions with orders to search every nook where Ingra might be in hiding. Then she turned to Edmund, and they communed together for a time, while we awaited the result of their consultation.

The decision, apparently somewhat against Edmund’s opinion, for he wished to aid in the search, was to return at once to the capital. Accordingly, we embarked in the car; and were soon speeding away from the wilderness, leaving a dozen of the planes to prosecute the search.

After our return to the capital a very different series of events began to occupy our attention.

Of Ingra we heard no more, for the present. One by one the airplanes that had been left to hunt him down returned unsuccessful.

It was certain that he had adherents in the city, as he had elsewhere, for his family was very old and powerful, and had always occupied an exalted position; but still we saw nothing to alarm us. Nevertheless, we never doubted that he was simply hiding his time and planning his vengeance.

To me the thought became an obsession, and sometimes I could hardly sleep on account of it. It was horrible to think of our being practically alone here in this distant world, among a people who knew nothing of our ways, and who treated us with respect only because in the first we excited their curiosity, and in the second place because Ala’s favor was our shield.

But I could not get away from the fear that when the novelty should be over the romantic attachment which their queen had formed for Edmund would cease to captivate the public’s fancy, and then the scale would incline against us. Whenever I broached the subject to Edmund, however, he pretended to treat my fears as purely imaginary.

Jack, always impressionable and erratic, quickly lost himself in the delights of life in the brilliant capital, and eould not be brought to think of the future. To Henry I dared not open my mind, for he was already only too much disposed to brood and to take the dark view of everything. If he had known my doubts he would have driven me mad by magnifying them.

For a while he tormented us with complaints and begged to be taken back to the earth, until Edmund turned upon him in such a fury that he never again ventured to open his lips on the subject.

In the meantime it was delightful to watch the gracious manner in which Ala sought to distract us.

She began by exhibiting the marvels of the capital. Thus far we had only seen the great throne room, the hall of justice, and one or two smaller apartments in the palace.

Now she conducted us through halls and rooms more splendid than I could have imagined to exist. The golden decorations were beyond belief in their richness, in the astonishing quantity of the precious metal lavished upon them, and in the delicacy and beauty of the forms.

Nothing interested Henry so much as this. It stirred his cupidity, which I must confess, although I liked him, was a prominent defect of his character.

“What a place for a Pizarro!” he exclaimed,

“Yes,” said Edmund, “but there is no cringing Atahualpa here. You need not dream of carrying off any of this wealth.”

“But you seem to be in a fair way of falling heir to it,” put in Jack with a laugh.

Edmund colored, but did not reply.

“For shame, Jack,” I said, “Can’t you remember that if Ala does not understand our language, she has a marvelous power of reading our thoughts?”

“That’s so,” said Jack. “Upon my word I feel rather uncomfortable In this world where a man’s mind goes naked.

“Why, a little while ago I was strongly tempted to steal a kiss from a pretty maid who was showing me a wonderful affair of gold and jewels. I don’t know whether it was an idol or what, and upon my word, before I could have made a motion—and, of course, I didn’t really mean to—she darted away from me as if she had been stung, and her winning smiles were changed for a black look that made me hang my head.”

After this we all became a little more circumspect in our comments, and tried to keep our thoughts to ourselves, unless, as was generally the case, they were such as our entertainers could only find pleasure in knowing.

I should have to write a book to tell you about all the surprising things that Ala showed us in the palace, and in the city—for we made a tour of that also.

The streets were wonderful, crooked as cow-paths, crowded with people, magnificent with shops filled with all sorts of curious objects, and bordered with thousands of aerial structures that towered up and up, glittering like a Jack Frost paradise at Christmas; while at all elevations airships and airplanes passed and re-passed, steering clear of one another; with the grace and ease of Venetian gondolas.

She took us through a great library, where we saw the printed books to which I have referred; but there was nothing to compare in strangeness with the visit which we finally made to a kind of temple, where we saw the most remarkable character in Venus, the “Head Medicine Man,” as Jack facetiously dubbed him.

But we couldn’t remain long in a facetious mood when in the presence of this personage. And, besides, he gave us a shock, the full nature of which I did not comprehend until long afterward, when if; came upon me with overwhelming force.

Jack’s title for him may have been sufficiently descriptive of his functions. He seemed to be a kind of masculine pythoness, and his gloomy, cavernous apartment in the center of the temple, strangely lighted with huge, dull-red electric globes, was apparently a Delphic shrine for the people of Venus.

It was our first introduction to any thing resembling superstition among these people, and to me, at least, it came as a great surprise, for in this world of light, beauty, and harmony, such a thing seemed strikingly out of place. The evident awe with which Ala regarded this high priest of mystery displeased me also.

Contrary to what one might expect, this man, who was of extraordinary stature, I should say nearly seven feet tall, showed no signs of age. He seemed to be in middle life, and very vigorous; and, as he sat on a kind of throne of some black, highly polished metal, with his elbow resting on a short pillar capped with a circlet of red jewels that blazed like living coals, his huge head and strong face were marvelously impressive.

I never saw such a face anywhere else. It was beardless, and as white as marble. Usually he allowed only his profile to be seen; and one could not look upon it without a creeping of the nerves. His nose was immense, resembling a great curved beak, and his deep-sunk eyes, roofed with projecting brows, were as black as jet, but curiously luminous as they gleamed sidewise out of their penthouse.

But when he turned his full face, even Edmund started back. He seemed to project his countenance toward us like a monstrous bird stretching out its neck, and his glowing eyes appeared to penetrate our inmost thoughts.

This lasted only for a moment; and then he turned his profile again and remained motionless.

Ala then had a long communication with Edmund, at the end of which he turned to us and said:

“This is the most remarkable thing that we have yet encountered. It seems that this is the center of their religious system, and that strange man is its head. It is, as far as I can make out, based upon a kind of sun-worship.

“At rare intervals the cloud dome opens overhead in a narrow rift, through which the sun appears for a few moments, as a vast, blinding ball of fire; larger and brighter, of course, than we ever see it from the earth. Sometimes a whole generation passes without this momentary opening of the heavens.

“Ala herself has never seen the vision of the bright god of the sky; but, like all her people, she regards it as a manifestation of a higher governing power, and every time that the phenomenon occurs there is an extraordinary outburst of enthusiasm, which arrests all other affairs, and the whole planet is swept by a wave of religious frenzy.

“This high priest is regarded as the mortal representative of the power above. Upon his death another, chosen by what I suppose may be called a council of augurs, takes his place. He has all the sacredness and influence of a Delphic oracle, and his utterances are considered as sure prophecies of future events.”

“I’d never come to him for a fortune,” broke in Jack. “I don’t like his looks.”

“Hush! But that’s just what you have come for,” replied Edmund with a smile. “And I don’t know how the thing is going to work out for us. Ala has brought us here to learn this priest’s opinion about—well, about me. You will understand. If he proves unpropitious, it won’t be well. I hope for a favorable oracle.”

This put an entirely new complexion upon the affair, and I began to regard the occupant of the black throne with an apprehension that I had not felt before. I could have wished our fate to lie in anybody’s hands but his. I quite agreed with Jack on that point.

I wondered why Ala had not consulted this authority earlier, if she did not feel free to make her own choice and act her own will. Now that we, through Edmund, were so deeply involved, the consequences could not but be very serious if another adverse influence besides that of Ingra was directed against us.

But I suppose the girl queen had simply followed the dictates of her heart at first, and then events had so crowded upon one another that there was no opportunity to take counsel.

We were not compelled to wait long to discover the trend of the oracle. The beaked face and the jetty eyes were turned upon us again, and without warning the gigantic form rose to its full height. One arm was thrown out toward us in a gesture of repulsion, while the eyes blazed from the out-thrust colorless countenance so fiercely that, in spite of all my efforts at self-command, I absolutely quailed before them.

Henry started back, and would have fled incontinently if Edmund had not seized his arm and detained him. Juba alone, to my surprise, remained totally unmoved. Either he did not understand, or else he had unwavering confidence in us, and so feared nothing.

Ala, for a moment, was overwhelmed with seeming disappointment and sorrow. Then she slowly raised her head, her cheeks reddened, her eyes shone with a determined look, and, meeting the glance of the great priest unflinchingly, she laid her hand on Edmund’s shoulder. I saw a mingled look of pride, love, and defiance pass over Edmund’s features; and then he faced the new enemy he had found with a firm glance.

“Now we are in for it,” whispered Jack. “If Edmund pulls us out of this, I’ll swear by him forever.”

But the immediate consequences were not so serious—at least, in appearance—as our fears had anticipated.

The priest, from his towering elevation, glanced scornfully at Ala; and then, in a low, monotonous tone, began a kind of chant. Only Ala, of course, understood him; but, as she listened, an expression of growing horror came over her face. The scene lasted only two or three minutes. When the chant was finished, the oracular speaker slowly sank back upon his throne and turned away his face, which had become once more as impassive as marble.

Ala could hardly remain upright. She leaned on Edmund’s arm, and, as I thought, sobbed.

Suddenly she straightened. The queenly look and manner returned. Her whole bearing and expression denoted resistance and resolution. Turning her back upon the black throne, without another glance at its occupant, but with a look at Edmund—in which her inmost soul shone forth in a way that there was no mistaking—she led us from the chamber.

When we were alone afterward in an apartment in the palace, Edmund told us the meaning of what had occurred.

“That the decision was adverse,” he said, “I need not tell you. We have got the religious head of the planet against us now. But his closing speech, which Ala has explained to me as best she can, was a queer medley—a sort of prophetic vision, it would seem—which greatly affects Ala, though for my part I only laugh at it.”

“But what was it?” urged Jack.

“Oh,” said Edmund, “only a crazy Mother Shipton jumble of nonsense. He talked about a grand conflagration and a general wiping out of things and persons that he doesn’t like. I snap my fingers at his divination, but without any mumble magic he can do us a lot of harm. If I could persuade Ala to go, I’d quit Venus within 24 hours. But I don’t believe she’d consent to go, and I won’t leave her, so that’s the end of it.”

Henry groaned in spirit, but Jack showed no white feather, and I don’t believe I did either.

“Bully for you, Edmund!” Jack cried. “Go in and win. We’ll stand by you, if we never see old New York again.”

Edmund smiled with gratification, and grasped us each warmly by the hand.

19. An Extraordinary Hunt

The significance of what had occurred in the temple gradually dawned upon me afterward, but it was never go clear in my mind as to produce more than an uneasy and growing foreboding.

Edmund did not mention the subject again, and there was no outward manifestation of the new opposition which had been set up against us. Naturally, it would require time to develop its force. It was a struggle between two opponents of equal power, for if the "Big Medicine Man," as Jack continued to call him, was supreme in religious affairs, Ala was nevertheless queen, and her popularity was a bulwark to her authority.

Besides, so far as we knew, the affair was a secret known only to the persons immediately concerned. There had been no witnesses of the scene before the black throne.

In the meantime, Ala showed as little anxiety as Edmund. She was almost continually with us, and the time glided away very pleasantly with the entertainments which she was constantly providing for our amusement.

Our attention was now once more turned to the mystery of the color music. It was perfectly clear, after what we had learned in the wildness, that the play of colors which had go astonished us furnished but a part of the esthetic enjoyment of these people.

Frequently there were whet I may call concerts in the palace, and on these occasions I became convinced that more than half of the effect produced by the dramatic harmonies that gushed in glowing waves of color from the great circles on the walls was due to the production of sounds inaudible to us.

Edmund, as I had anticipated that he would do from his remark in reply to Jack’s enthusiastic demand when the secret of the singing birds first burst upon us, attacked the problem by rendering this strange music audible to us. And he succeeded, as he always succeeded.

How he did it I cannot pretend to explain, but be said that it was as simple in principle as a telephone. After many experiments he constructed three little boxes, one for each of us, and when we had attached them over our ears we could actually hear the sounds produced by the colored undulations.

I can never describe those sounds. They thrilled the very soul. They had a strange serial quality, as if they were the voices of spirits floating in the air about us. The music that they produced reminded me, by the sweetness of its melodies, of an Æolian harp; but it was more measured, and infinitely more varied. Listening to it, we felt stirred to depths of our being of whose existence we had not dreamed.

We were exalted, and something beyond human capacities of enjoyment seemed to have been given to us. Yet Edmund said that the exquisite pleasure we were enabled to experience by the aid of his contrivances was only a rude, imperfect, mechanical reproduction of that which was enjoyed by the people of Venus. But we were grateful to him for affording us this glimpse into the possibilities of a transcendent development of the physical senses.

“It is the nature of Venus,” Edmund declared. “This world so near the sun receives from the great orb richer gifts than come to the earth. The atmosphere here is tremulous with vibrations originating in the sun, which impart a character to the physical organization of the inhabitants of this planet which we can hardly imagine. Their joys are at the same time more delicate and more intense than ours.”

We were never tired of tasting the new pleasure that had been partially placed before us, but Edmund’s restless spirit soon drew us away into fresh adventures.

He was determined to explore the torrid circle. He had learned from Ala that no one had ever been able to penetrate beyond the place where Ingra had left us to be devoured by the monsters of the great swamps; but with his car he believed that we could go wherever he chose, and he persuaded Ala, whose desire for knowledge and love of adventure were not less than his, to consent to a most extraordinary expedition.

In the preparations for this I believe that we all forgot the new danger that threatened us since the opposition of the Great Oracle had been declared.

Whatever might be the form that danger was to assume, if kept itself in the background and worked in secret. I had an uneasy feeling that in some manner Ingra would associate himself with it.

While the people, and even the high officials in the palace, apparently knew nothing of what had occurred, I felt certain that our archenemy would learn of it and remorselessly pursue the advantage that it gave him,

Again and again I was on the point of urging Edmund to leave the planet while there was yet time and take Ala with us, if she would consent to go, as he had himself suggested. He was so absorbed in his schemes, however, that I hesitated to disturb his thoughts.

In a short time all our preparations were made, and we set out on what I must regard as the wildest and most inconsiderate adventure that we had yet undertaken.

We started, as usual, from the great tower of the palace, our company consisting of eight persons, all that the car could conveniently accommodate. These comprised, beside ourselves, Ala, Juba, two maids chosen from Ala’s immediate attendants, and a high official of the palace—a sort of majordomo—a very intelligent person and of great physical strength.

Of course we had our weapons, both the pistols and the guns, with an abundance of ammunition and of provisions, We were attended by half a dozen airplanes, which were to accompany us as far as they could go, and were there to await our return from the unknown region.

We took the direction of the mines; and beyond them we entered the wilderness, and soon found ourselves involved in the zone of clouds and semi-darkness. Here, at a point where a curiously shaped mountain peak, rising just on the border of the twilight-land and pointing its told outlines against the strongly illuminated sky behind, served as a landmark which we could not miss on our return, the airplanes were ordered to await us, and we pushed on alone with the car.

Jack, of course, was all alive for this adventure, as he always was for anything promising excitement; but Henry didn’t like it, and would have stayed behind if he had had the courage to remain alone among strangers. For my part, my curiosity was greatly aroused; and, besides I found immense interest in watching the enthusiasm of Ala.

Her adventurous spirit was in its element; and, as far as appearances went, she gave no thought to future troubles. According to custom, the control of things at the capital had been left in charge of a sort of board of regency, which was a permanent institution, as I learned, Ala not being the first queen who was fond of visiting distant parts of the country, though she was the first who had shown a disposition to explore unknown regions.

On leaving the airplanes behind, we plunged deeper and deeper into gloom, and were compelled to use our electric lights. Among Edmund’s special preparations was a small searchlight, placed at the peephole in the front end of the car, and this was now brought into requisition.

It gave us startling views of the nature of the surface beneath.

First we ran for many miles above an area covered with vast swamps and bogs, with the oddest conceivable shapes of vegetation. We were keen to see some of the gigantic animals which we knew, from our first startling experience, inhabited this region, and it was not long before the light found one out.

We were about a hundred feet above the ground, and proceeding slowly, when Edmund, who had placed himself beside the searchlight and was peering through the opening, said quietly:

“There! Would you like to take a look?”

Ala was beside him in a moment, and she could not repress an exclamation, or refrain from starting backward, although in a second she recovered and laughed at her own nervousness. There was room for only one, beside Edmund, at the little window, and when Ala had satisfied her curiosity we each took our turn.

When mine came I was for an instant almost as much agitated as Ala had been.

Directly ahead of us, not more than 75 yards distant, there was a shallow pond, its banks thick with tangled bushes, and in the midst of it stood a monster on eight legs, tawny-colored in the electric light, seeming to bristle with stiff hairs all over its huge round body. Its head was relatively small, black, and apparently armored with polished jet, and faceted with innumerable eyes, which flamed in the brilliant beam poured upon them.

“Good Lord!” I could not but exclaim. “It is like a prodigious tarantula! Look! It is going to leap at us!”

“Upon my word,” said Edmund, “I think the fellow does mean fight. Get away a moment, and I’ll swing the car round. We’ll give him a broadside if he becomes too ugly.”

Accordingly, the car was swung into such a position that one of the side windows faced the creature, and Edmund brought the movable searchlight to the window, which he threw wide open.

“For Heaven’s sake!” cried Henry. “Don’t do that. He’ll get at us.”

“Don’t be alarmed,” Edmund replied, “He can do us no harm. We are 200 feet away.”

All of us crowded about the window, and it is unnecessary to say that the automatic guns were in our hands and the pistols ready.

During the few seconds that the streaming light had been removed the monster had changed his position; and now, as the glare fell upon him again, we were startled to find that he had approached us. He was within 40 feet of the car, standing in a grassy glade, having with inconceivable rapidity and agility clambered or leaped over the stunted trees and bushes surrounding the pond in which we had first seen him.

His huge spiky body seemed to bristle with anger, and his countless eyes blazed like so many great rubies in the piercing light. It was truly a heart-quaking sight!

Ala started back with a womanly cry of alarm; and Henry, I am almost ashamed to say, sank helpless upon a bench.

“I believe he is going to jump at us,” said Edmund quietly. “Aim for his head, and let him have half a dozen shots in quick succession.”

Before anybody could touch a trigger the awful creature bounded with lightning speed upon the car.

If you have ever seen a “hunting spider” leap upon a fly, you know the incredible rapidity of its spring and its stroke. This monster was no less swift in his action.

Through sheer nervous shock we simultaneously discharged our guns; but without aim, and, unfortunately, without effect.

The monster struck the car with a force that made it roll back, and two shaggy legs entered the window.

A yell of horror and terror broke from Jack’s lips, and in an instant he was dragged from the window, our terrible assailant dropping out of sight at the same moment!

Edmund sprang to the controllers, and the car sank swiftly to the ground. As we landed in a tangle of bushes, Edmund leaped out into them, calling to me to follow. Then the light streaming from the open window fell upon the most awful spectacle that a man ever lived to tell about.

The monster was within 2o feet of us, holding Jack high above the ground with the claws of two of its legs, and turning him round and round, as a spider prepares a fly for his meal.

The dreadful jaws were open to receive the morsel, when a stream of fire shot from Edmund’s gun, followed instantly by half a dozen more.

The animal reeled, and its legs gave way, thrashing the bushes as it tumbled on its side.

Jack dropped like lead, and I rushed to his side, while Edmund pumped more shots into the huge rolling body, whose struggles broke the intertwining branches with terrible crashes.

As I reached Jack he resembled a shapeless lump. Edmund rushed back as soon as he could to look at him.

20. In the Whirlwinds of Venus

But the case proved, on examination, not to be so bad, after all.

Jack was not dead, and the great beast was.

Still, the poor fellow seemed terribly injured. His clothing was ripped to shreds, and his face was disfigured. He had been rolled up almost into a ball; and I marveled when I saw him stretch out his legs, for I thought that every bone must have been broken.

His athletic training had, perhaps, saved him, his joints being supple and his muscles elastic.

“Just in time,” he muttered, trying bravely to smile. “He had me in his jaws once, but I kicked away.”

As we lifted him between us to carry him back to the car, Ala approached, pushing her way with anxious face through the tangle of weeds and shrubs. Juba, his great eyes shining like flames, was close behind her.

Ala uttered a cry of joy when she saw that we were safe, but her face was filed with pity as her eyes fell upon Jack. She helped Juba to open a way for us back to the car.

No sooner had we placed the injured man on the floor than she was on her knees beside him, striving to stanch the wounds on his face and hands. She and Edmund worked together as if they had been trained nurses.

They tore up garments to make bandages, and in a little while Jack looked like a patient in an emergency hospital. Fortunately, he seemed to have no internal injuries; and Edmund declared that, barring the possibility of poison from the fangs, there was no danger of a fatal result.

Nevertheless he said, we must start on our return at once.

“Not on your life!” Jack exclaimed. “See here, Edmund, I won’t go back. This expedition is not going to be ruined on account of such a little accident. It’s just beginning to get interesting.”

“But you may be poisoned,” said Edmund.

“Stuff and nonsense!” returned Jack. “There’s no poison about it. I tell you I won’t go back. I’m not going to be scared out by a beast like that. You’ve finished him, and that ends it.”

At first Edmund insisted; but Jack was so obstinate, and he really seemed so strong, that at length Edmund said:

“Well, we’ll go on a little way. If Jack seems to be the worse for it, we’ll put back again at top speed.”

So it was decided, and we kept on.

No one had any desire to examine the monster we had slain. But Edmund declared that in the interests of science he ought at least to photograph him with a flash light; and we did pause long enough for that, hovering over the place with the car, but the picture when developed showed nothing but a blur.

No other adventure happened at once, and we saw no more of the strange inhabitants of the fens, who had probably been scared off by the noise and the light.

For a long time we bore away in the darkness, without any guide except a general sense of direction. In that respect Edmund was the most remarkable person I have ever known. It seemed impossible for him to be lost. He could make his way through the air like a migrating bird.

After a long while it began to grow a little lighter ahead. I thought that we had inadvertently turned on our course and were approaching the temperate zone; but Edmund averred that he had not lost his direction, and that the light must come from some other source. Before the darkness around us had begun perceptibly to lift I happened to glance out of one of the windows, and noticed a strange fluttering in the air.

Huge inky shadows seemed to be flitting through the gloom.

Presently there came a smart blow against the car, and for an instant something covered the window. Everybody was greatly startled, and we looked out at both sides, but could see nothing, except the curious shadows that I had first noticed.

The air was misty around us; and the shadows, except for their blackness, resembled apparitions like the specter of the Brocken, cut upon the dark fog by moving objects, whose position we could not immediately determine.

“There is something odd overhead,” said Edmund at length, “and I’ll steer a little higher to see what it is.”

No sooner had the car started gliding on an upward slope than a perfect thunder of raps began on the outside, like heavy hail on a roof. At the same time both of the windows were covered by moving forms, the nature of which we could not determine, so fast did they flit by.

But it was evident that they were hitting the car and causing the noise. Suddenly the rapping ceased and the forms disappeared from the windows. But now again the ebon shadows began fluttering in the mist all about the car.

“What has become of those things, and what are they, anyhow?” demanded Jack nervously. Owing to his comparative helplessness, he was no doubt more startled and alarmed than he would otherwise have been.

“I don’t know what they are,” Edmund replied; “but I do know that they are overhead again, and I’m going to keep the car rising until I find out what the mystery means.”

“But what makes the shadows?” I asked. “Where does the light come from?”

“Of course it must come from above,” Edmund replied, “since the shadows are below our level and appear all around us. I take it that the sun is breaking through the clouds overhead. But what the objects are that cast the shadows I can’t guess. That they are very much alive, and that their name is legion, are facts which require no demonstration, after our recent experience.”

All this time we were rising, and in a few moments the strange phenomenon recurred. The thunder of blows again fell upon the car, and the indistinguishable rush by the windows was resumed. Ala turned slightly pale, her maids cowered together, Henry hid his face, and even Edmund seemed disconcerted.

“It’s very strange,” he muttered. “I’ll have to turn on the searchlight.”

This had been extinguished upon the closing of the glass of the window when we resumed our journey, Edmund not taking the trouble then to replace the apparatus at the forward lookout. He now put the light in its original position, and, as its brilliant beam sprang out into the darkness, placed himself close by the small opening. After a moment of intense gazing he looked back over his shoulder with a queer expression.

Catching my eye, he beckoned to me, and I went to his side.

“Look out there!” he said in a low voice.

As I did so I was unable to repress an exclamation. The shaft of light fell upon thousands of huge flapping wings, belonging to what I can only liken to enormous bats, which were whirling about the car and blindly striking by hundreds against it, as they rushed on in an endless procession.

Soon it became apparent that they were revolving in a vast circle; and their previous sudden disappearance was explained when, as if at a signal, they all turned their flight upward and rose again above the level of the car.

The things looked so uncanny that I shuddered at the recollection of the sight, while Edmund seemed lost in thought.

“What is it?” called out Jack impatiently from his bench. “What do you see?”

While I was trying to frame an answer Edmund spoke up in words that filled me with surprise.

“It’s the next step to Hades, I reckon,” is what he said.

Jack didn’t catch his drift, and I had to think; a moment I asked:

“What in the world do you mean?”

“I mean this,” replied Edmund, seizing one of the knobs and giving it a sudden turn. “We’ve got to get up out of here before the tempest strikes us.”

“You don’t think that they can harm us, do you?” I said, with my mind on the flying creatures.

“Not they, but what they announce. Hold on tight now, for I am going to make her spin.”

Before touching the knob again, he took Ala by the hand and made her sit on one of the benches, showing her how to hold herself firmly in position. Then he planted himself by his controllers, and a moment later we felt the car bound upward.

But the warning which Edmund had read in the conduct of the gigantic birds had come too late. We shot through their array, knocking them right and left by thousands as we rushed upward; but the deafening sound thus created was nothing to the awful uproar that immediately succeeded.

I turned dizzy as the car began to spin and plunge like a cork in a whirlpool.

We were caught in a tempest with a vengeance! It was getting lighter outside, but the light was more fearful than the darkness. It was a lurid red gleam that made the boiling clouds which surged against the windows resemble foam upon a sea of blood whipped to madness by furiously battling winds.

All that we had experienced in the terrible passage of the crystal mountains was child’s play to this!

The howling and shrieking of the wind was enough to drive one mad. It seemed to blow a dozen ways at once. The car rolled, bobbed, tossed, and plunged, and, despite all our efforts, we were flung upon the floor, striking against one another, grasping at supports, out of breath, helpless with terror, all shouting at intervals and nobody hearing a word in the hubbub of noises.

Edmund abandoned all efforts to control the car, and devoted himself to saving Ala as much as he could.

He held her in his arms, and braced himself in a corner where two of the benches running along the walls met. Even in that terrible excitement I noticed a look of confidence in her face as she fixed her eyes upon Edmund. Jack suffered fearfully from the shocks he received, and I did my best to aid him.

Once I caught Edmund’s eye, and he glanced meaningly upward, which I took for an intimation that the car was still rising, and that he looked for deliverance from our peril in that way. But there were certainly times when we plunged downward with fearful speed, for we would be almost lifted from the floor by the inertia.

This dreadful scene may have lasted an hour, or it may have lasted not more than 20 minutes; but it seemed endless. The change came with great suddenness.

One moment we were rolling and pitching, as usual, and the next—it was all over.

The car seemed to have been struck dead, it was so absolutely motionless. At the same instant the howling of the wind passed away in a dying scream. My ears rang still with the echo, and I was too dizzy to stand straight.

In a few moments it became evident that the motionlessness of the car was only apparent. We were still rising. Edmund gently placed Ala on a bench and went to the controllers. After turning a couple of knobs, he faced about with a cheering smile.

“We are out of it,” he said. “There is no more danger. The only thing there was to do was to keep on rising. We are now above the denser part of the atmosphere, and the cyclones are whirling far beneath us. I will bring the car to rest, and if I am not mistaken you will look down upon a scene that you will not soon forget.

“I cannot open the airtight glass shutters,” he continued, “because at the elevation where we now are the air is too rare especially for Ala and her friends—but by inclining the car a little to one side we can have a good view.”

There was an arrangement of movable weights sliding upon bars to produce an inclination toward one side or the other; and in a few minutes Edmund had the car, which was now practically at rest, so canted that one of the large windows afforded a view almost directly downward.

The spectacle beneath drove the memory of an awful experience, for the moment, from the minds of all. The sun was shining brilliantly overhead, and its light fell upon a raging sea of clouds, which, except at their edges, where they were torn into flying scud, looked aa dense as white molten metal.

A hundred tornadoes appeared to be whizzing at once, all turning in the same direction with sickening velocity; and where these whirlwinds came together, their peripheries moving opposite ways, it was as if two gigantic buzzsaws had met, each plowing the other to pieces and whirling the fragments round in the wildest confusion. The play of lightning was fierce and incessant; but when we were in the midst of it, it had passed unnoticed, the thunder being blended with the roar of the wind.

“Good Heavens!” cried Jack, holding himself painfully erect at the window. “Did we come through that?”

“Indeed we did,” replied Edmund, “and I don’t mind saying that I shouldn’t like to venture such a trip again.”

“But what does it all mean?” I asked.

“Its meaning is clear enough. In penetrating toward the torrid circle, where the unsetting sun is forever in the zenith, we have entered the zone of tempests that surrounds it. The heated air is always rising above the area enclosed in the central circle and flowing off above on all sides.

“Colder air rushes in below to take its place; and at a certain distance from the center, which we have reached, the contending currents come together with the results that you see.”

Ala, who had resumed all of her usual self command, was one of the most eager of the watchers of this spectacle, and Edmund and she communed together for a long time, pointing out and discussing the marvelous features of the scene.

At last I asked Edmund:

“What do you mean to do next? Go back?”

“No,” he replied. “At least, we’ll not go back the way we came. Having got so far, I think we’ll circumnavigate the planet and take a bird’s-eye look at it. Jack seems to be getting along pretty well, and by keeping near the upper limit of the atmosphere we can travel so fast that the whole trip will not occupy more than 24 hours.”

“That’s it,” cried Jack; “that suits me exactly. To go back the way we came would look as if we had been beaten.”

The talk of going back set my mind once more on the dangers that were probably gathering for us at the capital, and I could not refrain from saying quietly to Edmund:

“You know you ought to get back as soon as possible, for I am sure there are plots hatching that may have terrible consequences. Remember that the eagle beak on the black throne is against us, and our absence with Ala leaves him a free field. Ingra, too, is at liberty?”

But Edmund only smiled at my gloomy forebodings.

“You borrow too much trouble,” he said.

But neither he in his buoyant optimism, nor I with my half-defined suspicions, foresaw what was coming.

21. The Land of Night Again

Although the sun was now continually overhead and entirely unclouded, we did not suffer from its heat, because we were running at so great an elevation that the air was rarer than on the loftiest terrestrial mountain, and the rays that struck the outside of the polished car were reflected off without penetrating.

But on the planet below us, buried in its blanket of heavy air, the effect of the intense and unceasing solar radiation was terrific. We had already seen one of its results in the belt of cyclones, but as we passed over that and entered the central torrid circle, we beheld, if possible, still more dreadful indications of the merciless action of the sun.

When we had left the region of clouds and storms behind, the bare surface of the planet became visible, and Edmund kept one side of the car inclined downward to give us a better view from the window.

We were many miles above the ground, and the smaller details were not visible even with our binoculars; but we did not dare to drop lower because of the heat, which, in spite of our great distance, came to our faces, even through the thick glass, like the blast of a furnace.

Evidently, no life could exist on that scorched surface, and not a drop of water could stay there. Millions of square miles of land lay literally roasting, and its prevailing dark-brick color suggested the idea that it was red-hot.

There was no temptation to linger here, and in a short while we rose entirely above the atmosphere, in order, as Edmund said, to make it safe for him to turn the “interplanetary knob,” and set the car going at a speed of more than a mile a second. In this way the transit of the torrid circle, though it was thousands of miles broad, was effected in an hour, and upon approaching the opposite border we saw again the ring of swirling clouds that encloses it all round.

Jack, who was now rapidly recovering the use of his limbs, stood with us most of the time at the window; and as he saw the clouds passing far beneath, the thought seemed for the first time to strike his mind that in circumnavigating the planet we should once more visit the scene of our first adventure on the dark hemisphere.

“By Jove, Edmund,” he suddenly sang out, “we’ll have to cross those mountains again!”

“Of course we will,” said Edmund, “but it will be a simple matter now. We’ll go miles above their tops.”

“And, hooray! We’ll visit the caverns,” Jack went on, with rising spirits. “Juba, old boy,” slapping him on the latter’s hairy hack, “you are going to see your old home once more, do you understand? But we won’t leave you there. No, sirree! We can’t part with you. I want to see you in New York once.”

“But, if Juba should went to stay with his friends—” I began.

“Then, he’ll have to stay,” Edmund interrupted gravely. “And I am going to advise him to stay.”

“Aw, Juba won’t want to stay,” said Jack, laughing. “He likes our company too well.”

But Edmund’s words and manner set me to worrying again about what was going on behind our backs at the capital; and I was impatient to return and have it out, and then get away for good.

Edmund saw the trend of my thoughts—I believe he was beginning to acquire something of Ala’s power of mind-reading—and he said to me, in an aside:

“Don’t be so downhearted. It’ll come out all right. Keep your courage up, and help me with the others.”

We passed over the storm zone at high speed, and then came the temperate, or inhabited, zone; but the part of it now beneath our eyes was on the opposite side of the planet from the capital. It appeared to be dotted with villages; and occasionally the towers of a considerable city were visible. Ala, however, informed Edmund that this portion of Venus was mainly devoted to agriculture, and contained no great towers. We were so high that the airplanes in sight seemed to be crawling upon the ground.

Another belt of clouds ahead soon reminded us that we were rapidly approaching the borders of the night hemisphere, and our expectations became eagerly alive. Ala, especially, was nervously excitable over the prospect.

Now, at last, she was to enter that mysterious country which none of her people had ever succeeded in penetrating, and concerning which so many superstitions and traditions existed. The majestic majordomo, who had behaved with commendable equanimity through all of our adventures thus far, showed a little nervousness, I thought, when Ala explained to him what was about to happen. I watched Juba closely, but his face was impassive.

The night hemisphere, you will remember, is ringed outside the crystal mountains by another zone of tempests and a broad sea into which the rivers periodically formed by the melting ice pour. We were now so high that the storms did not trouble us; and we admired, at our leisure, the shining expanse of sea surface, whitened with foam, that showed through shifting breaks in the tempestuous clouds.

Presently, Edmund, who had been watching from the lookout, slowed down and swung the car halfway round.

“Now’s your chance,” he said. “Take a look at the mountains before we cross them.”

We all crowded round the window. There they lay, those terrific ice peaks, in a long glittering line upon the horizon. Their tops were wreathed in straggling clouds, through which occasionally darted a diamond-bright flash where the level sunlight was reflected from some smooth flank of pure ice.

“I wonder if we can see the place where we were imprisoned by the fall of the car?” said Jack.

“No,” Edmund replied. “That is over on the other side. Remember we are approaching the dark hemisphere at a point opposite to where we left it.”

“But the snow mountains seem just the same here.”

“To be sure. Why shouldn’t they be the same? The planet is completely ringed with them, for the moisture-laden air flows off equally on all sides of the globe.”

We were already at such an elevation that we could clear the mountains and the stormy air that raged above their heads; and Edmund, after 15 minutes stoppage, resumed the journey. Gradually a marvelous scene opened around us.

The air seemed to darken, and the stars began to appear. Theee grew brighter as the night deepened, and soon they glowed with incredible brilliancy. It was so long since my eyes had behold them, that I was astonished by their brightness and their multitude. But the effect upon Ala and her attendants was indescribable.

You must remember that none of them had ever seen a star before, and now suddenly they beheld thousands. They could not comprehend the meaning of the wonderful spectacle. It was such a revelation of the universe as they had never dreamed of.

When we had passed completely within the realm of darkness, with the crystal mountains once more flaming in fiery shapes behind us, Edmund brought the car to rest.

He had already started the electric heaters and clothed Ala in furs, and now the rest of us get out our arctic garments from the lockers.

“I am now preparing to drop down to the ground,” Edmund said, “in order to take our bearings. A few observations of the stars will enable me to orient myself, and then we can set out with confidence in search of the caverns.”

The descent was made rapidly, and then, in our warm clothing, we stepped out of the car upon the icy shingle.

Ala shivered at the touch of the glacial air, and her maids and the majordomo quickly fled back into the shelter of the car. But Edmund wished Ala to remain outside, and he doubled the furs covering her until she intimated that she no longer felt any discomfort from the cold. Then he got out his instruments of observation.

But first he pointed out the earth and the moon to Ala. That was a thrilling moment to all of us!

How splendid our old planet looked up there, and how proud we felt as we watched Edmund endeavoring to make his companion comprehend what it was that she saw. I think that he succeeded, at least so far that she understood that it was our world which shone so splendidly overhead.

“Do you understand what this means?” asked Edmund, suddenly turning to me.

“I understand that that is the earth, of course,” I replied.

“But, are you not surprised to find it still so high overhead here?”

Then the truth burst upon me.

“Why, yes!” I exclaimed; “it means that a whole year has elapsed since we arrived upon Venus. She has gone round her orbit, and come back into conjunction with the earth.”

“More than a year,” Edmund replied. “Some 580 days; for that is about the time from one conjunction to the next.”

“Do you mean to say that we have been here almost 20 months?” cried Jack.

“There is the evidence,” Edmund responded. “Astronomy doesn’t lie.”

“Well,” said Jack, “it’s the shortest 20 months in my experience.”

Henry, after his fashion, said nothing, but looked gloomy and disgruntled in the glare of the electric light streaming from the car.

Having finished his observations, Edmund announced that he now knew his course and could take us directly to the caverns of Juba’s people. But, before entering the car, he took Ala again by the arm, and they stood together for a long time, gazing up at the earth and the stars, while he communed with her, telling her, in that strange language, I know not what marvelous things which must have been revelations of enormous significance to her intelligence.

I can see them yet, standing there side by side, and I can recall the very expression of her beautiful eyes peering out of the hooding furs, as she drank in his thoughts, with a look of mingled love, and admiration, and confidence.

At length we reentered the car and, rising to a moderate elevation, resumed our journey at a rapid pace. The pathless frozen desert beneath us glittered occasionally in the starlight, and after a long time we caught aight of the well-remembered shafts of light rising from the ground.

“We are getting into the inhabited region,” said Edmund. “We shall have to search a little for landmarks,” he added, “because, of course, my observations are not as accurate as those of a geodetic survey, and I cannot locate the precise position of Juba’s caverns. But I can come very close to them, and I depend upon Juba himself to aid in finding the exact spot.”

Since our arrival in the dark hemisphere I had frequently studied Juba’s countenance, and I detected many signs of the interest that the poor fellow experienced in finding himself once more m his own land. Still, it seemed to me that Jack was right, and that Juba would prefer to stay with us than to remain with his people.

We passed over several groups of inhabited caverns, but we saw no signs of life except the light shafts issuing upward.

We now ran close to the surface, and kept a sharp outlook. Suddenly Juba slapped his hairy hands with an expression of delight, and pointed to a row of lights which he seemed to recognize.

“That’s it,” said Edmund. “I was sure he would know when he was at home.”

There was no mistake about it. Juba had recognized his own village, so to speak, probably by the arrangement of the shafts. In a little while, we ourselves became aware of a certain familiar aspect of the landscape, and, almost without hesitation, we approached the mouth of our own cavern. Then we came down softly to the ground, and the door was thrown open.

“Hold on,” said Jack, “let’s give them a surprise. Let’s fire a gun in salute.”

Edmund made no objection, and Jack, who had almost entirely recovered his activity, fired the signal.

As the sound rattled through the frozen air, we waited with great curiosity, standing within a few rods of the terrible altar on which I had nearly been sacrificed.

Presently, two of three hairy heads appeared at the cavern’s mouth. Juba immediately ran toward them. They disappeared like frightened rabbits, and Juba dashed down the steps in pursuit. We halted at the top to let him soothe the fears of his compatriots. In a short time he reappeared with a dozen companions.

Evidently he had explained the situation, and I was rather surprised at the apparent indifference with which they greeted us. We seemed much more glad to see them than they were to see us. I recognized several well-known faces among them.

Then, accompanied by Ala and her attendants, we descended, escorted by Juba, who seemed to take great pride in leading us. Arrived at the first underground apartment, we found a great crowd of the hairy natives assembled.

The women were more cordial in their greetings than the men, and seemed especially interested in Ala and her maids. I expected to see some indications of concern over the fate of those who had been lost in the flood, but I observed none; and I do not really know whether or not any explanation of their absence was given by Juba.

While most of our party remained in this chamber, Edmund took Ala and the majordomo on an exploration of the deeper parts of the cavern. Ala expressed the greatest interest in everything she saw. Edmund told me that he showed her the coal mines, the blacksmith shop, and all the curiosities of the place.

But there was no reason for lingering there, and, as soon as Edmund had completed his circuit, preparations were made for our departure. Then Edmund took Juba aside and tried, as he had said he would, to persuade the fellow to remain with his own people. But Juba was deaf to all arguments; and at last Edmund, throwing up his hands, said:

“Well, it’s no use. Juba is determined to go back with us; so we’ll have to take him.”

Poor Juba!

I often think of him now. How infinitely better it would have been for him if he had not been so fond of the strangers who had dropped into his gloomy world out of the starry sky!

22. At the Capital

I need not detain you with an account of our return trip.

Edmund again laid his course by the stars, and running at a high elevation we passed over the crystal mountains and their warring tempests, believing that we could recognize with our glasses the huge jeweled peak that had once so nearly wrought our destruction. Edmund pointed this out to Ala, as she clung to his arm; and then we crossed the sea where we had first met her, and were soon coursing under the great cloud dome in the land of filtered sunshine.

Upon reaching the capital, the same scenes of jubilation were renewed; but there was great surprise at our reappearing from exactly the opposite direction to that in which we had been expected. An airplane was at once despatched to recall those who were waiting for us on the border of the twilight zone.

There can be no doubt that the forebodings which had so long occupied my mind tended to color my judgment, yet I would have sworn that I detected a change in the moral atmosphere of the capital. Our greeting from the people was hearty, as usual, but there were faces which seemed to me to wear a half-concealed scowl; and I caught, occasionally, an unfriendly glance in the crowd.

These things impressed me so deeply that again I warned Edmund.

“The current is beginning to run against us,” I told him. “I am sure of it.”

This time he did not laugh at my fears. On the contrary, he said:

“Yes, I believe you are right. But I am not afraid. We have weathered worse storms.”

“But, what will you do?”

“Let events take their course, and watch them.”

“Then you may be too late. Listen to me. Prepare the car, get Ala’s consent to go, for I believe she would follow you anywhere, and start for the earth at the earliest possible moment.”

Edmund mused a little while; then he said:

“The day after tomorrow.”

“The day after tomorrow?” I replied impatiently. “Why trifle thus? You know that there are no days and tomorrows in this kind of endless light.”

Edmund smiled.

“Count 48 hours by your watch,” he said. “and at the end of that time, I promise you to start.”

This promise heartened me immensely. But I did not know what that “day after tomorrow” had in store. The blow was nearer falling than I could have suspected.

It was hastened without doubt, by an occurrence which nobody could foresee or govern, and which, if it had happened at the time of our first arrival, would probably have had no mischievous consequences for us.

But, since that fatal interview in the temple, all was changed; and an event more disastrous for us than that which now occurred, Ingra himself could not have devised.

It was the opening of the cloud dome!

I have already told you that at certain unpredictable times a rift appeared in the pearly vault of the heavens, and the sun for a few minutes blazed down through the opening in unclouded splendor. So many years had elapsed since the last occurrence of this phenomenon, that for the younger generation it was only a tradition; yet it was a tradition on which the pagan religious system—of which the eagle-faced sphinx in the red-lighted temple was the head center—was based; and its influence upon the ignorant and superstitious multitude was unbounded and irresistible.

This terrible priest, whose hatred of us had, of course, been stimulated by Ala’s open defiance, had, as I feared, occupied the time of our absence in poisoning as many minds as possible against us; and his sacred character had enabled him to spread the venom of religious prejudice with amazing rapidity. Even if we had not wasted time on our unfortunate expedition, I do not know that we could have done much to counteract his pernicious influence; but then, at least, we should have been ready at an earlier date to escape from his clutches,

And who knows what Ala, with her great popularity might have accomplished if she had been on the ground? I did not doubt for a moment that Ingra was in the capital, and thick in the plot.

The opening of the dome came very suddenly. It was announced by a great shout—a rare occurrence—from the people who happened to be on the outer platforms of the palace tower.

We were all with Ala at the time, Edmund being engaged in trying to decipher the curious characters in a large book which she had brought him.

Upon hearing the shout, we all ran out.

The scene was one of the most unforgettable things that occurred in our whole expedition. Excited people were crowding the platforms, jostling one another, jabbering, pushing, and pointing upward; some already on their knees, others with looks of the utmost consternation, throwing their arms wildly above their heads, while hundreds of airplanes were circling like frightened birds above the towers.

I glanced upward, following the direction of thousands of eyes, and was momentarily blinded by the fierce glare of the sun, pouring its unmitigated rays straight down through a narrow rift in the cloud dome.

The gold and jewels that decorated the tower made it blaze with a splendor like that of a huge frost-gemmed tree struck by the morning rays after a winter night’s ice storm. It was too dazzling to look upon.

Then there was a movement in the vast throng, a space cleared itself, and the gigantic augur, wearing a great black miter flaming with circles of rubies and carbuncles, appeared, his strange beak projecting ominously and his black eyes aglow.

Thousands instantly dropped on their knees as he slowly advanced. With one long arm carrying a sort of crozier, he pointed aloft, while he muttered a chant that fell like a charm upon the superstitious multitude.

I glanced at Ala.

She did not stir; and I felt my heart give an exultant bound, with the conviction which flashed over me that her active, penetrating mind had flung off the burden of this superstition. How much Edmund had been able to teach her, I do not know; but I gave him all credit for the change.

Soon the terrible priest directed his menacing glance upon us, as we continued standing after all the others had abjectly fallen before him.

If his eyes had glared before, they turned to living flames now. With a majestic stride, he advanced toward Ala; and I thought for a moment that he meant to strike her down with his staff. Edmund pushed her behind him; and I shall never cease to thrill at the recollection that I, with a boldness that surprised and gratified me afterward, sprang instantly to Edmund’s side, with Jack—brave old Jack at my elbow.

What we should have done next I do not know for our enemy hesitated.

Whether he was cowered by our menacing aspect, or whether he thought it unbecoming his dignity to attack us physically, at any rate, he stopped short. Then, towering to his full height, he made one vast sweep with his arms, and covered us, I suppose, with a withering anathema.

As far as he was concerned, that apparently ended it.

He paid us no more attention after that than if we had been so many sticks, but directed his gaze straight at the sun. I saw its rays sparkle in the corner of his black eyes, which never winked; and I hope I may be forgiven for wishing, as I did, that his god would strike him blind on the spot!

As I glanced around, I caught side looks from the prostrate worshippers which boded no good.

Suddenly a cold hand seemed to have been planted over the pit of my stomach, for there, lifting his head above the kneeling crowd and staring at us with a wicked grin, was Ingra! An instant later, and before I could speak to Edmund, he was gone.

This capped the climax of my apprehensions. The mere fact that Ingra dared to show himself here attested the change that had occurred in our situation. After a moment’s thought, I determined not to tell Edmund at present what I had seen.

The spectacle of the opening of the dome ended as unexpectedly as it had begun. The rift closed, and then, for a few moments, the contrast between the unclouded brilliance of the sun and the soft glow that succeeded had an effect as if we had been plunged into night.

Finally, objects became clearer, there was a great movement of the closely packed throng, the people rose from their knees, and the black priest had gone as mysteriously as if he had been snatched up into the sky.

23. The Blow Falls

After the scene that I have tried to describe in the last chapter, events hurried on with a rapidity which was not apparent upon their surface.

I believe that Edmund with all his perspicacity, failed to appreciate their meaning. In fact, he was himself responsible for giving them an impetus toward the inevitable crisis, which, but for the premature step that he and Ala took, might have been delayed considerably.

But I shall come to that in a few minutes.

As the excitement of the crowd died down, the people began to move about in groups, communing together about the marvel that they had witnessed.

The unfavorable attitude toward us was spreading among them.

It was plain that it had grown enormously in strength since the scene with the augur, and the impression quickly reached those who had not been near enough to see for themselves.

I could not speak immediately to Edmund, because he was continually in conference with Ala; but getting Jack aside, in order not to alarm Henry, who was already in a pitiable state of moral collapse, I opened my mind to him.

“Jack,” I said, “Edmund has promised to get away soon.”

“Well, that’ll be a good thing, I reckon,” was the reply.

“What do you think of the sentiment of this crowd?”

“I shouldn’t like to trust myself alone in it. But, say! Didn’t we back the old medicine-man down in great shape?”

“I don’t think we backed him down at all,” I replied. “He has better ways of ruining us than by attacking us with a big stick.”

“Humph!” said Jack. “I’d have had the drop on him, if he’d made another move.”

“But you are in favor of our getting away at the earliest possible moment?”

“Oh, yes; I think we’d better go. I’ve had enough of Venus. But I’m not for backing down. If Edmund can take Ala along, all right. That’s a little romance that’s got to go through.”

“We’ve got the religious sentiments of these people against us now,” I said, “and we can’t afford to stay an unnecessary minute.”

“Their religious sentiments be hanged!” exclaimed Jack. “What’s their religion? A set of pagans! But, by Jove, these girls of Venus are great. I only wish I could have had Edmund’s luck.”

“He may not be as lucky as he seems,” I replied. “But, come, Jack, I want you to help me persuade Edmund to start even sooner than he has promised—in fact, right away."

Jack stared at me a moment.

“See here, Albert,” he said. “I’m with you in thinking that the sooner we’re off the better, but I’m not for budging a step until Edmund gives the word. He knows his affairs and Ala’s.

“When they’re ready, off we go, as far as I’m concerned. But that girl has got to be left to choose her time; and, if Edmund wants to stay and become King of Venus, I’m not the man to coax him away.”

There was no more to be made out of Jack. I thought it would do no good to tell him that Ingra was here, for probably he would be all the more eager to stay and fight it out.

At the first opportunity, however, I brought Edmund back to the subject of getting away. He saw what was in my mind before I could speak.

“What does your watch say?" he asked good-naturedly. "Is it day after tomorrow yet?”

“No, of course not; but listen, Edmund. Don’t you see how the peril thickens around us? I protest that I am no coward; but it would be defying fate to stay here any longer. Can’t you persuade Ala to go at once?”

Edmund paused a minute before replying; and then he said, with some embarrassment of manner:

“I promised you to start in 48 hours. I thought that it could he managed, else I shouldn’t have promised; but things have taken another turn, Ala refuses to go; and you know,” laying his hand on my arm, “that I can’t leave her.”

“But what do you propose, then; to stay here all your life?”

“That’s it!”

There was no trace of regret in his tone. It was plain that henceforth this, and not his mother earth, was to be Edmund’s world.

Before I could say anything in reply, he went on:

“But, of course, I don’t mean to keep you and Jack and Henry here. I am going to show you exactly how to manage the car; and I feel sure that you can navigate her home as well as I could myself.”

The idea of parting from Edmund, of leaving him alone on this distant planet while we returned to the earth, had never crossed my mind. Now, coming so suddenly, it quite overwhelmed me.

I had long ago forgotten to feel the least resentment because he had practically kidnapped us and brought us way off here against our knowledge and against our will. It seemed to me like desertion to leave him, and I could not reconcile myself to the thought.

I felt a lump rising in my throat; and it would not surprise me if there were tears in my eyes.

“But, Edmund,” I finally managed to say, “you can’t stay, you know, and Ala can’t stay. The lives of both of you will be sacrificed. Your enemies are too numerous and too powerful.”

“No,” he replied cheerfully. “We shall run no great danger. Ala believes that she can stem the tide; and I believe it, too, for there never was another such a woman! She proposes that we meet the machinations of the chief priest with a counterstroke.”

“What sort of counterstroke can you deal?”

“You know how popular Ala has always been, and you know also how charmed the whole population was with the news of our romance. It is the ingrained nature of these children of the sun. They passionately love the romantic and the beautiful.

“We believe that we can overcome the opposition of the superstitious element and rouse enthusiastic devotion to ourselves, by publicly proclaiming our betrothal, and celebrating our nuptials at the earliest possible moment; and we are going to do it.”

I was struck dumb—the thing was so unexpected and, to my mind, so preposterous.

“Why, Edmund,” I at last managed to say, “that’s the very thing to bring your enemies down upon you.

“If you are determined to stay here on Venus, all right. For Heaven’s sake don’t take a step so openly defiant as that which you propose. Keep in the background, and get Ala to try her arts of persuasion until the storm blows over.”

Nothing that I could urge moved him. He and Ala had made up their minds, and that was the end of it.

He wound up the discussion by asking me to go at once to the car, in order that he might instruct me in the management of the controllers. Ala, as well as Jack, Henry, and Juba, accompanied us.

The mere knowledge of Ingra’s presence was sufficient to make Edmund wish to have Ala continually under his eye; and the others followed where they saw us going. The lesson was not long, for already I had a general idea of the management of the machinery; but it was rendered a little difficult by the tacit understanding between Edmund and me that Henry should not be told what was in the wind.

He would be glad enough to go home, but we were sure that he would oppose anyone acting as engineer except Edmund. The affair was managed without exciting Henry’s suspicions. Afterward, I got Jack aside and told him the whole story.

As I expected, he adopted Edmund’s view at once.

“Just the thing to do,” he declared. “But, I tell you what, I’m more than half disposed to stay here myself, if Edmund does.”

“Do as you like, Jack,” I replied; “but I’m going to get away just as soon as I am certain that Edmund and Ala cannot, after all, be persuaded to go, and that they are in no immediate danger.”

You are not to suppose, from what I have said, that Ala was deserted by her people in the midst of the serious trouble in which she and we had involved ourselves. Her self-confidence, as exhibited in the plan which she had formed with Edmund, was alone a sufficient indication that she had plenty of friends left, and that her rank and character still protected her.

As soon, then, as she had informed these friends and faithful supporters of her design, they loyally aided her to put it into execution. At a less anxious moment I should have eagerly examined into all the details of the singular ceremony by which the betrothal of the queen to a stranger of another race and from another world was to be proclaimed to her people. As it was, my mind was too full, and only the culminating scene was stamped on my memory.

The immense palace-tower and hundreds of other towers all over the city were decorated as we had never seen them before. The display of color was amazing, even after our experience.

Most beautiful of all, I thought, was the spectacle presented by the thousands of airplanes and airships in gala dress. They spiraled about, so countless and so brilliant, so swift and so graceful in their mazy circlings, that one seemed to be plunged into the midst of a vast swarm of the most gorgeous butterflies.

So dazzling and fascinating a spectacle was never conceived by the most ingenious inventor of carnivals and ballets.

But even while I stood admiring it I could not drive away the thought that this wonderful display was, in itself, simply a defiance to our enemies, the waving of the toreador’s scarlet flag, and I shuddered at consequences which I could not foresee.

The hour for the final ceremony was now close at hand, and we were all to take a conspicuous part in it, standing with Ala and Edmund to receive the congratulations of the people, after a priest, whom Ala had won over to her side, had publicly proclaimed their betrothal.

Ala, beautiful as I had never yet seen her, was already habited in white garments glittering with diamonds, and Edmund had been fitted out in appropriate dress which splendidly set off his magnificent figure, with a jeweled fillet resting amid his dark curls.

While we waited thus in one of the upper apartments of the palace-tower an irresistible impulse came to me to examine the car, which had been removed to a neighboring tower. I do not know why I suddenly felt this desire—it may have been some suspicion of possible meddling by Ingra—but, at any rate, I immediately yielded to it.

I had a key to the chamber in which the car was locked, and I said to Edmund, who was in high spirits:

“I want to run over to look at the car.”

“All right,” he replied, “but you must be back in a quarter of an hour, without fail.”

“I’ll be back,” I responded, and summoned an air-boat waiting at the landing.

Jack and Henry at once expressed a desire to accompany me, and I consented. We were not a minute in crossing the space separating the palace from the adjoining tower, and while Jack and Henry remained on the landing of the latter, admiring the scene before them, I approached the locked chamber containing the car. As I put the key in the door I asked myself:

“What am I here for? I’m hanged if I know. But, anyhow, I’ll take a look.”

I opened the door and entered. The car was apparently all right, and, while I was looking it over with no particular design, I heard Jack’s voice raised in great excitement.

I ran to the door, and a gush of heat smote me in the face. A single glance showed me that the palace was in flames! Vast tongues of fire were leaping up from its lower stories, licking the innumerable brilliant balconies, which burst into flame as if they had been so much tinder.

Stunned for an instant by the awful sight, the next moment I leaped into the air-boat, pushing Jack and Henry before me, but even as we did this the material of the boat caught fire, and its engineer sprang back upon the platform of the tower.

“Quick!” I shouted. “We must get the car out.”

We dashed into the apartment containing it, and now the value of Edmund’s recent instructions was shown. But for them I should never have been able to manage it in such an emergency.

Madly we pushed it out into the furnace of heat, for our own tower had caught fire, and, as we sprang inside, I turned on the power. We rose like a shot out of the flame and smoke.

Immediately I swung round on the other side of the palace opposite to that where we had been. Here, as I hoped, the flames had not yet mounted to the level that they had attained on the other side. But a sight met my eyes that, for a moment, drove me mad with rage.

There, with a single steersman in an air-boat, was Ingra, torch in hand, spreading the conflagration! Forgetting in my fury what I had come for, I drove the car straight against him. He turned with startled eyes, and saw us bearing down upon him. He read death in my face, and his own grew pale.

Desperately he endeavored to evade the encounter, but the steel car struck his boat like a ram, crushed in its side, and sent Ingra and his unfortunate companion spinning into the flames below.

I exulted over the deed! I felt an unholy joy in having at last wrought vengeance upon this monster.

Then the thought of the time I had lost flashed upon me like an accusation.

“In Heaven’s name!” I cried. “We must save Edmund and Ala!”

“And Juba!” shouted Jack.

I turned the car, and sped for the platform on which I knew that they must be.

We saw them! But—Heaven forgive me!—we were too late!

My vengeance had been purchased at an awful price. A minute earlier we might have saved them, but now they were in the midst of the flames. Edmund had Ala in his arms, and Juba, his long hair catching the sparks, stood resolutely beside them.

Edmund saw me, and, as I live, he smiled. He opened his lips, but in the awful roar of the fire I could not hear his voice.

Then he raised his hand, and seemed to be waving us off. He pointed upward, as if commanding us to go.

“I’ll save them yet!” I yelled between my set teeth, and rushed the car into the flames.

But at this instant the whole vast structure of the tower gave way.

It crumbled like a pile of ashes, and they were gone.

24. The Earth

For a few minutes after this terrible consummation none of us spoke a word. Henry had swooned. Jack stood motionless by my side. Where the tower had been, and the leaping flames had raged, was a vast vacuity, with wreathes of smoke rising from far below.

The conflagration was now spreading all over the splendid city. A hundred towers were burning fiercely on all sides, the pointed flames licking the sky, and thousands of planes and airships that had also caught fire were dropping like flaming brands into the furnace.

The sight filled me at once with pity and with horror. I saw one large plane, filled with people, driven, in spite of the exertions of its engineers, directly over a burning tower. A long spire of flame reached up and touched it. It seemed to shrivel like a moth in a candle, and down it went with all its living freight.

“Get away from here!” cried Jack, at last recovering his voice.

I turned the car and we sped away.

For hours we rushed on, not particular to choose our direction. Our only thought was to escape from this dreadful place. At last I slowed down to take our bearings.

We had left the doomed capital behind the horizon, and only the well-known expanse of land beneath, with a few airplanes sailing about over it, and the cloud dome above our heads, reminded us that we were still on the planet Venus.

I brought the car to rest and sat down with Jack to consult. We looked at each other for a time in silence. Then we both burst into tears.

When wo recovered ourselves we got out some provisions and set the little table on which Edmund had served our first morning meal after leaving the earth. We were ravenous with hunger, but it was a sad repast.

Henry had to be forced to eat a few mouthfuls, for he was yet out of his head and kept up his strange mutterings. When the meal was finished Jack and I decided upon our course.

“There is no reason for staying here another hour,” I said. “We must start at once for the earth.”

“But are you sure that you can manage the car in open space?” Jack eagerly inquired.

“Yes; Edmund told me everything that needs to be done,” and my eyes filled with tears as I spoke.

“Then let us go,” said Jack solemnly.

We rose swiftly through the cloud dome, and once more the magnificent spectacle of the great white globe was before us. As rapidly as possible I accelerated the speed of the car, and the huge planet seemed to sail away into space.

Once above the atmosphere the heavens turned black and the stars sprang out to view. There was the earth again shining brilliantly, with the moon close at her side, and I set our course for them.

After a while the indicator showed a speed of 20 miles a second.

“I hardly dare to work it up higher,” I said, “but since Venus and the earth are now again in conjunction, the distance we have to travel is only about 26 million miles, and we can make it in a little over 11 and a half days.”

“And the meteors?” suggested Jack.

“We shall have to trust to luck,” I replied.

Oh, what a trip that was!

Our hearts were rilled with sadness, for, upon my word, we thought more of Edmund and Ala and Juba than of the home to which we were returning.

Henry added to our trouble, for his mind became every hour more clouded. At length he grew violent in his insanity, and sometimes we were obliged to use force to prevent him from injuring himself.

We had arrived, according to my calculations, within a quarter of a million miles of the earth, and already we could begin to see many of its geographical features, when a crisis arose in Henry’s case.

He had been quiet for a long time, and we had ceased to watch him as carefully as we should have done, when, quite unexpectedly, he was seized with a maniacal fit, and before a hand could be laid upon him he had thrown open one of the windows and precipitated himself out of it.

He leaped with such force that he shot several yards away from the car. I realized in a flash that he had gone to his death, for we could not recover him before his breath would be exhausted. It was necessary instantly to close the window, because the air was rushing out, and in a few seconds it would be all gone, and we could not replace it. The apparatus which Edmund had provided automatically purified the air in the car, and rendered it fit to be breathed over and over again for an indefinite time, but there was no means of making more air.

Already in the few seconds that the window had remained open the larger part of our supply of air had escaped, and the moment we had slammed the window back into its airtight settings Jack and I gasped and sank almost helpless on the floor.

For several minutes we were unable to rise. At last I struggled to my feet and looked out of the window.

There floated Henry’s body, accompanying us in our flight!

“Oh, Jack!” I said faintly. “I cannot bear this!”

“What is it?” he managed to whisper, painfully lifting himself to the window.

The instant he looked out he dropped back to the floor with a groan.

The thought of Henry following us was too horrible to be entertained. Desperately I turned a guiding wheel, and the car moved away on a different course. But with fascinated eyes I continued to watch the body of our friend until, a mere speck, it faded into the blackness of the sky.

Poor Henry! He had chosen a strange tomb, as deep as the heavens and as lasting. I shuddered at the thought that there he would continue to float forever, imperishable in germless space, unless, perhaps, his mother earth should draw him at last to her bosom, when, flashing for an instant with meteoric fire, his ashes would be scattered unperceived through the wide atmosphere.

The desperation of the situation in which I now found myself it is impossible to put into words. Jack, whose stoutness doubtless served to diminish his breathing capacity, continued lying on the floor, gasping and half asphyxiated. I myself was as weak as a child, yet I had to guide the car.

Without thought of anything but the necessity of reaching the earth, or at least of getting within the limits of the atmosphere, at the earliest possible moment, I recklessly increased the speed. A few minutes’ time saved might mean life for Jack. When I spoke to him he could not reply, but I saw that he was still breathing.

How that car did spin!

Before I was aware that we were so near I suddenly perceived a vast dark mass filling all the sky that was visible from the window. The earth! At last we were almost there. We must be at the upper limit of the atmosphere, and I dared not continue this speed any longer.

I slowed down as rapidly as I could, and not a minute too soon, for I could feel heat coming through the walls of the car, and at the same moment the stout glass in one of the windows cracked with a loud report. We were already in the rare upper air, and the friction of our swift rush through it had begun to inflame the steel.

In a few moments more, I thought, I could throw open a window and let in fresh air to revive Jack and to restore my own strength.

But alas! Jack was already beyond all help. When I had opened the window and drawn one refreshing breath, I turned to him and found him pulseless.

It is a wonder that I did not go mad myself, I had brought the car almost to rest, and now it slowly settled until it lay motionless. I was at home at last—but what a homecoming!

Long I sat, discouraged and desperate, with bitter thoughts, and Jack lying there before me. Finally a soft breeze stealing into the open window roused me.

The electric lights were glowing in the car, but as I opened the door I found that it was night outside. I turned back and looked once more at Jack.

He lay as peaceful as a sleeping child. I could bear it no longer. I turned off the light and emerged from the car.

It had landed in a swamp. Straggling trees covered with wild grapevines were all about.

Heedless of where I went, I began to run. Several times I fell headlong, but, recovering my feet, went on. After several hours I found a hunter’s deserted hut and entered it. Tired out, I lay down there and slept until the morning sun awoke me.

It is needless to detail all that followed. I found out that the car had come down in the very heart of the Adirondack wilderness. I occupied a whole day in walking to an inhabited clearing. When I arrived there I had made up my mind what to do. I would keep the secret.

As soon as I could reach New York I hunted up Church. His amazement upon seeing me was boundless. He had long believed that we were all dead. But he agreed with me to keep the secret. Together we went to the Adirondacks, found the car after a week’s search, buried Jack’s body under a great pine tree, and labored for two whole days to sink the accursed car forever from the sight of men in the mud of the swamp.

Now at last I have told the story, and the world knows what a genius it lost in Edmund Stonewall.