*CHAPTER III.*
*STRANGE VISITORS.*
Gerald, resting almost spell-bound upon his seat in the boat, withdifficulty repressed a gasp of astonished admiration as his gaze fellupon the stranger, whom he could see very clearly, even down to thesmallest detail of his dress, in the soft but intense light which issuedfrom the opening behind him.
Gerald saw before him a man, tall and commanding in stature, yet soexactly proportioned as scarcely to look his real height--muscularwithout being stout, light and graceful in carriage without being thin.His refined, clear-cut features, which were free from any trace of beardor moustache, were those of a man in the very prime of life. The skinwas smooth and clear, and as light in hue as in the average Englishtype. The mouth was delicately chiselled, and very expressive; and thehigh, massive brow had a character all its own, conveying an idea oflofty serenity. Beneath, as it were, were traces of an irresistiblewill and a certain sense of latent power, which were somehow felt by thespectator rather than openly declared. The eyes were large, dark, andluminous, and their gaze searching and penetrating, appearing to becapable either of winning gentleness or the most terrible sternness.
Altogether, Gerald decided, a man to be loved and trusted, or hated anddreaded, according to whether he were a friend or an enemy; a bornleader of men, a being of indescribable majesty and dignity in generalappearance, yet possessed of a singular simplicity and charm of manner.
As to the dress of this attractive stranger, it is more difficult todescribe, for the reason that Gerald perceived at once that the materialwas unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was a long tunic,with a belt of gold, and a very picturesque head-dress not unlike thatin vogue in England in the days of Henry the Eighth; while the arms andlegs were encased in garments which fitted closely, showing the figureclearly. That much was plainly to be seen. But what the dressconsisted of was a puzzle, for it seemed to have a sheen of its own, asort of shimmer which did not appear to be altogether reflected light.There were several little ornaments here and there, such as buckles onthe shoes and another on the shoulder; but the chief embellishment was alarge star upon the breast, which flashed and sparkled and seemed to beworked in diamonds.
Behind this regal figure were three or four others, who stoodrespectfully in the background, evidently in attendance upon him.Suddenly, while Gerald still gazed in ever-increasing wonder upon theunexpected scene, the stranger reeled as though suffering from an attackof faintness. He put his hand to his breast, and appeared to be pantingfor breath. Blood showed upon his face and ran off on to his dress, andthe next moment he staggered and fell off the platform into the sea.
Gerald did not hesitate. He guessed that the man must have fainted; heknew that the spot where he had fallen in was outside the ledge on whichthe supposed 'meteorite' was resting; that it was of unfathomable depth,and that, therefore, his danger was imminent and deadly. Throwing offhis jacket, therefore, Gerald dived into the water, and that with suchpromptitude that the second splash followed closely upon the first.
But the stranger had fallen from a height, and the impetus carried himdown faster than that gained by Gerald's dive from the boat, so that hefailed to grasp the fainting stranger, and was compelled to swimdownwards in the hope of finding him.
Down, down, ever down, he went, clawing at the water with fierce energy,and battling his way with feverish determination, knowing that, withthose awful depths beneath him, the stranger's one and only chance oflife lay in his--Gerald's--overtaking and gripping him.
It was a long and terrible struggle--long, that is, comparatively--andthe pressure of the water became oppressive, when, at last, just as theplucky diver felt he must give up and return to the surface, his handtouched something. His fingers closed at once upon it, and he felt thathe had secured his prize.
A few seconds later he had regained the surface, and found himself,panting, and all but exhausted, close to the boat, from which Clinch waswatching for him. The sailor was aiding his search upon the watersaround by throwing on them the rays from the dark lantern, which hadbeen lighted and placed ready to hand in the stern.
A stroke or two brought the boat close enough for Gerald to get a holdupon it with one arm, while with the other he supported in the water thestranger's insensible form.
'Wait, sir; wait an' get yer breath!' counselled the old sailor. 'Takeit easy, Mr Gerald! I 'll hold on to t' other chap, never fear! Youlet go on 'im, an' get yer breath!'
So Gerald loosed his hold upon the one he had rescued, and a littlelater had recovered sufficiently to be able to scramble into the boat.Then he gave his aid to Clinch, and between them they lifted thestranger in also.
'Where to now, Mr Gerald?' asked Tom, a little dazedly. All thesesudden happenings, as he afterwards phrased it, had been 'a littletrying to the works of the upper story, an' had set 'em spinnin'.' Inother words, his brain was in a whirl.
Gerald looked round, and saw that a ladder had been lowered from theplatform; and seizing the oars, he rowed the boat to the place. Twostrangers were waiting on the lower part of the ladder. To Gerald'ssurprise they wore masks upon their faces, and he noted that all theother strangers were now masked also.
As the boat came alongside, and Tom raised the inanimate form in hisarms, the two on the ladder seized it, and carried it up the ladder,across the platform, and out of sight. A moment or two later the ladderwas drawn up in very sudden fashion, the platform was run in, and thenthe doorway closed up completely, leaving nothing to mark the placewhere it had been.
The great mass lost its luminous appearance, and the two in the boatfound themselves in complete darkness.
'Well, I 'm sugared!' exclaimed Tom, or words to that effect. 'If thatdon't take the cake! Never so much as a "good-bye," or "thank yerkindly," or---- Well!' He gave a great gasp, words altogether failingto explain his feelings.
'You forget, Tom, that they probably don't know our language, and weshouldn't understand theirs,' said Gerald. 'You must remember that theyare foreigners--er--that is--h'm!--strangers, you know, fromanother'----
He hesitated, and broke off. For what could he say? Strangers thesepeople certainly were; but foreigners? Well, that depended upon thepoint of view--travellers from where? Another world? The suggestionseemed monstrous--preposterous! Yet where else could they have comefrom? If it seemed impossible--incredible--to think of them astravellers from another sphere, it was certainly no less impossible toregard them as inhabitants of the Earth. No mortal upon our globe hadyet succeeded in manufacturing an affair like this 'meteorite,' andtravelling about in it; that much was certain. To conceive it possiblewas to imagine a miracle quite as wonderful as to suppose that thisextraordinary flying-machine--for something of that sort Gerald now feltcertain it must be--had come from another planet.
However, Gerald realised that he was not in a state of mind to be ableto think clearly or logically about the matter at all. His brain, likehonest Tom's, was in a whirl; and he tried in vain to collect andmarshal his thoughts. The whole affair was too puzzling, tooextraordinary for sober thought.
'Tom, row me ashore,' he said abruptly. 'This is too much for me. I'mgoing to bed.'
'Ay, ay, sir; I can unnerstan',' said Clinch, wagging his headhelplessly. 'I feels jest the same, Mr Gerald. Lawks! To think as Ishould ever 'a lived to see this day!'
Gerald went ashore, but was far too excited in mind to really go to bed.He passed the remaining two or three hours of darkness in restlesspacing up and down between the dwelling-house and the bluff, whence hecould keep observation upon the cause of his wonderment, as it layplacidly in the water below.
Great was the astonishment of his friends when, in the morning, herelated to them the adventures of the night. It is scarcely to bewondered at that they were--Jack certainly was--disposed at first toregard it all as an extraordinary hallucination which had seized uponthe relater. But there was Clinch's confirmation; a
nd in the end theysaw that there was no room left for doubt.
'Then it comes to this,' said Jack, 'we have to face the fact that wehave here, close by us, some people who are paying us a visit fromanother planet! Phew! What a wake-up for our scientists! What a snubfor those wiseacres who have declared that the planets could notpossibly be inhabited! But why have our visitors shut themselves upagain? It's rather churlish after your saving that johnny fromdrowning! What do they mean by it? And what was the matter with him?'
'I read it this way,' said Armeath thoughtfully. And it may as well behere stated that after-events fully proved the correctness of hisdeductions. 'These people from another world either cameinvoluntarily--that is to say, by accident--or they made some mistakewhich resulted in their being landed upon the Earth in a fashiondifferent from that which they had intended. They narrowly escapeddestruction, which would certainly have come to them had they struck theground--this island for instance, instead of the sea--or if they hadfallen in the sea at a place where it was shallow.
'Even as it was, I imagine, their method of arrival came very near tobeing a disaster. In all probability something has gone wrong withtheir engines or machinery--whatever they may be--and also, probably,some of the voyagers were injured by the shock, and required time torecover from it. This would explain how it is that they have not shownthemselves outside sooner.'
'It's a far-reaching sort of guess, sir,' said Jack reflectively; 'butit seems to fit the situation. It scarcely explains, however, why thebeggars should have gone off without signifying their thanks in someway. It appears pretty certain that Gerald saved that chap's life.'
'Yes,' said Armeath slowly; 'Gerald certainly saved his life. Let ushope that the circumstance is of good augury; that it may lead to theirbeing friendly when the sufferer has thoroughly recovered, and theyventure out again.'