CHAPTER XVIII
A red sky burned over Egypt,--red with deep intensity of spreadingfire. The slow-creeping waters of the Nile washed patches of dullcrimson against the oozy mud-banks, tipping palms and swaying reedswith colour as though touched with vermilion, and here and there longstretches of wet sand gleamed with a tawny gold. All Cairo was out,inhabitants and strangers alike, strangers especially, conceiving itpart of their "money's worth" never to miss a sunset,--and beyondCairo, where the Pyramids lifted their summits aloft,--stern points ofwarning or menace from the past to the present and the future,--a crowdof tourists with their Arab guides were assembled, staring upward in,amazement at a white wonder in the red sky, a great air-ship, which,unlike other air-ships, was noiseless, and that moved vast wings up anddown with the steady, swift rhythm of a bird's flight, as though of itsown volition. It soared at an immense height so that it was quiteimpossible to see any pilot or passenger. It hung over the Pyramidsalmost motionless for three or four minutes as if about to descend, andthe watching groups below made the usual alarmist prognostications ofevil, taking care to look about for the safest place of shelter forthemselves should the huge piece of mechanism above them suddenlyescape control and take a downward dive. But apparently nothing wasfurther from the intention of its invisible guides. Its pause above thePyramids was brief--and almost before any of the observers had time torealise its departure it had floated away with an easy grace, silenceand swiftness, miraculous to all who saw it vanish into space towardsthe Libyan desert and beyond. The Pyramids, even the Sphinx--lostinterest for the time being, every eye being strained to watch thestrange aerial visitant till it disappeared. Then a babble of questionand comment began in all languages among the travellers from manylands, who, though most of them were fairly well accustomed toaeroplanes, air-ships and aerial navigation as having become part ofmodern civilisation, found themselves nonplussed by the absolutesilence and lightning swiftness of this huge bird-shaped thing that hadappeared with extraordinary suddenness in the deep rose glow of theEgyptian sunset sky. Meanwhile the object of their wonder andadmiration had sped many miles away, and was sailing above a desertwhich, from the height it had attained, looked little more than a smallstretch of sand such as children play upon by the sea. Its speedgradually slackened--and its occupants, Morgana, the Marchese Rivardiand their expert mechanic, Gaspard, gazed down on the unfoldingpanorama below them with close and eager interest. There was nothingmuch to see. Every sign of humanity seemed blotted out. The red skyburning on the little stretch of sand was all.
"How small the world looks from the air!" said Morgana--"It's not worthhalf the fuss made about it! And yet--it's such a pretty little God'stoy!"
She smiled,--and in her smiling expressed a lovely sweetness. Rivardiraised his eyes from his steering gear.
"You are not tired, Madama?" he asked.
"Tired? No, indeed! How can I be tired with so short a journey!"
"Yet we have travelled a thousand miles since we left Sicily thismorning"--said Rivardi--"We have kept up the pace, have we not,Gaspard?--or rather, the 'White Eagle' has proved its speed?"
Gaspard looked up from his place at the end of the ship.
"About two hundred and fifty to three hundred miles an hour,"--hesaid--"One does not realise it in the movement."
"But you realise that the flight is as safe as it is quick?" saidMorgana--"Do you not?"
"Madama, I confess my knowledge is outdistanced by yours,"--repliedGaspard--"I am baffled by your secret--but I freely admit its power andsuccess."
"Good! Now let us dine!" said Morgana, opening a leather case such asis used for provisions in motoring, set plates, glasses, wine and foodon the table--"A cold collation--but we'll have hot coffee to finish.We could have dined in Cairo, but it would have been a bore! Marchese,we'll stop here, suspended in mid-air, and the stars shall be ourfestal lamps, vying with our own!" and she turned on a switch whichillumined the whole interior of the air-ship with a soft brightradiance--"Whereabouts are we? Still over the Libyan desert?"
Rivardi consulted the chart which was spread open in his steering-cabin.
"No--I think not. We have passed beyond it. We are over the Sahara.Just now we can take no observations--the sunset is dying rapidly andin a few minutes it will be quite dark."
As he spoke he brought the ship to a standstill--it remained absolutelymotionless except for the slight swaying as though touched by wave-likeripples of air. Morgana went to the window aperture of her silken-lined"drawing-room" and looked out. All round the great air-ship were theillimitable spaces of the sky, now of a dense dark violet hue with hereand there a streak of dull red remaining of the glow of the vanishedsun,--below there was only blackness. For the first time a nervousthrill ran through her frame at the look of this dark chaos--and sheturned quickly back to the table where Rivardi and Gaspard awaited herbefore sitting down to their meal. Something quite foreign to hercourageous spirit chilled her blood, but she fought against it, andseating herself became the charming hostess to her two companions asthey ate and drank, though she took scarcely anything herself. For mostunquestionably there was something uncanny in a meal served under suchstrange circumstances, and so far as the two men were concerned it wasonly eaten to sustain strength.
"Well, now, have I not been very good?" she asked suddenly ofRivardi--"Did I not say you should fly with me to the East, and are younot here? I have not come alone--though that was my wish,--I have evenbrought Gaspard who had no great taste for the trip!"
Gaspard moved uneasily.
"That is true, Madama,"--he said--"The art of flying is still in itsinfancy, and though in my profession as an engineer I have studied andworked out many problems, I dare not say I have fathomed all themysteries of the air or the influences of atmosphere. I am glad that wehave made this voyage safely so far--but I shall be still more gladwhen we return to Sicily!"
Morgana laughed.
"We can do that to-morrow, I dare say!" she said; "If there is nothingto see in the whole expanse of the desert but dark emptiness"--
"But--what do you expect to see, Madama?" enquired Gaspard, with livelycuriosity.
She laughed again as she met Rivardi's keen glance.
"Why, ruins of temples--columns--colossi--a new Sphinx-all sorts ofthings!" she replied--"But at night, of course, we can see nothing--andwe must move onward slowly--I cannot rest swaying like this inmid-air." She put aside the dinner things, and served them with hotcoffee from one of the convenient flasks that hold fluids hot or coldfor an interminable time, and when they had finished this, they wentback to their separate posts. The great ship began to move--and she wasrelieved to feel it sailing steadily, though at almost a snail's pace"on the bosom of the air." The oppressive nervousness which affectedher had not diminished; she could not account for it to herself,--andto rally her forces she went to the window, so-called, of her luxuriouscabin. This was a wide aperture filled in with a transparent,crystal-clear material, which looked like glass, but which was whollyunbreakable, and through this she gazed, awe-smitten, at themagnificence of the starry sky. The millions upon millions of worldswhich keep the mystery of their being veiled from humanity flashed uponher eyes and moved her mind to a profound sadness.
"What is the use of it all!" she thought--"If one could only find thepurpose of this amazing creation! We learn a very little, only to seehow much more there is to know! We live our lives, all hoping,searching, praying--and never an answer comes for all our prayers! Fromthe very beginning--not a word from the mysterious Poet who has writtenthe Poem! We are to breed and die--and there an end!--it seems strangeand cruel, because so purposeless! Or is it our fault? Do we fail todiscover the things we ought to know?"
So she mused, while her "White Eagle" ship sailed serenely on with aleisurely, majestic motion through a seeming wilderness of stars.Courageous as she was, with a veritable lion-heart beating in herdelicate little body, and firm as was her resolve to discover what nowoman had ever discovered before, to-nig
ht she was conscious of actualfear. Something--she knew not what--crept with a compelling influencethrough her blood,--she felt that some mysterious force she had neverreckoned with was insidiously surrounding her with an invisible ring.She called to Rivardi--
"Are we not flying too high? Have you altered the course?"
"No, Madama," he replied at once--"We are on the same level."
She turned towards him. Her face was very pale.
"Well--be careful! To my mind we seem to be in a new atmosphere--thereis a sensation of greater tension in the air--or--it is my fancy. Wemust not be too adventurous,--we must avoid the Great Nebula in Orionfor example!"
"Madama, you jest! We are trillions upon trillions of miles distantfrom any great constellation--"
"Do I not know it? You are too literal, Marchese! Of course I jest--youcould not suppose me to be in earnest! But I am sure we are passingthrough the waves of a new ether--not altogether suited to the averagehuman being. The average human being is not made to inhabit the higherspaces of the upper air--hark!--What was that?"
She held up a warning hand, and listened. There was a distinct andpersistent chiming of bells. Bells loud and soft,--bells mellow anddeep, clear and silvery--clanging in bass and treble shocks of risingand falling rhythm and tune! "Do you hear?"
Rivardi and Gaspard simultaneously rose to their feet, amazed.Undoubtedly they heard! It was impossible NOT to hear such a clamour ofconcordant sound! Startled beyond all expression, Morgana sprang to thewindow of her cabin, and looking out uttered a cry of mingled terrorand rapture... for there below her, in the previously inky blacknessof the Great Desert, lay a great City, stretching out for miles, andglittering from end to end with a peculiarly deep golden light whichseemed to bathe it in the lustre of a setting sun. Towers, cupolas,bridges, streets, squares, parks and gardens could be plainly seen fromthe air-ship, which had suddenly stopped, and now hung immovably inmid-air; though for some moments Morgana was too excited to noticethis. Again she called to her companions--
"Look! Look!" she exclaimed--"We have found it! The Brazen City!"
But she called in vain. Turning for response, she saw, to her amazementand alarm, both men stretched on the floor, senseless! She ran to themand made every effort to rouse them,--they were breathing evenly andquietly as in profound and comfortable sleep--but it was beyond herskill to renew their consciousness. Then it flashed upon her that the"White Eagle" was no longer moving,--that it was, in fact, quitestationary,--and a quick rush of energy filled her as she realised thatnow she was as she had wished to be, alone with her air-ship to do withit as she would. All fear had left her,--her nerves were steady, andher daring spirit was fired with resolution. Whatever the mischancewhich had so swiftly overwhelmed Rivardi and Gaspard, she could notstop now to question, or determine it,--she was satisfied that theywere not dead, or dying. She went to the steering-gear to take it inhand--but though the mysterious mechanism of the air-ship was silentlyand rapidly throbbing, the ship did not move. She grasped thepropeller--it resisted her touch with hard and absolute inflexibility.All at once a low deep voice spoke close to her ear--
"Do not try to steer. You cannot proceed."
Her heart gave one wild bound,--then almost stood still from sheerterror. She felt herself swaying into unconsciousness, and made aviolent effort to master the physical weakness that threatened her.That voice--what voice? Surely one evoked from her own imagination! Itspoke again--this time with an intonation that was exquisitely soothingand tender.
"Why are you afraid? For you there is nothing to fear!"
She raised her eyes and looked about nervously. The soft luminancewhich lit the "White Eagle's" interior from end to end showed nothingnew or alarming,--her dainty, rose-lined cabin held no strange orsupernatural visitant,--all was as usual. After a pause she ralliedstrength enough to question the audible but invisible intruder.
"Who is it that speaks to me?" she asked, faintly.
"One from the city below,"--was the instant reply given in full clearaccents--"I am speaking on the Sound Ray."
She held her breath in mute wonder, listening. The voice went on,equably--
"You know the use of wireless telephony--we have it as you have it,only your methods are imperfect. We speak on Sound Rays which are notyet discovered in your country. We need neither transmitter norreceiver. Wherever we send our messages, no matter how great thedistance, they are always heard."
Slowly Morgana began to regain courage. By degrees she realised thatshe was attaining the wish of her heart--namely, to know what no womanhad ever known before. Again she questioned the voice--
"You tell me I cannot proceed,"--she said--"Why?"
"Because our city is guarded and fortified by the air,"--was theanswer--"We are surrounded by a belt of etheric force through whichnothing can pass. A million bombs could not break it,--everythingdriven against it would be dashed to pieces. We saw you coming--we weresurprised, for no air-ship has ever ventured so far--we rang the bellsof the city to warn you, and stopped your flight."
The warm gentleness of the voice thrilled her with a sudden sympathy.
"That was kind!" she said, and smiled. Some one smiled in response--orshe thought so. Presently she spoke again--
"Then you hold me here a prisoner?"
"No. You can return the way you came, quite freely."
"May I not come down and see your city?" "No."
"Why?"
"Because you are not one of us." The Voice hesitated. "And because youare not alone."
Morgana glanced at the prostrate and unconscious forms of Rivardi andGaspard with a touch of pity.
"My companions are half dead!" she said.
"But not wholly!" was the prompt reply.
"Is it that force you speak of--the force which guards your city--thathas struck them down?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Then why was I not also struck down?"
"Because you are what you are!" Then--after a silence--"You areMorgana!"
At this every nerve in her body started quivering like harp stringspulled by testing fingers. The unseen speaker knew her name!--anduttered it with a soft delicacy that made it sound more than musical.She leaned forward, extending a hand as though to touch the invisible.
"How do you know me?" she asked.
"As we all know you,"--came the answer--"Even as YOU have known theinside of a sun-ray!"
She listened, amazed--utterly mystified. Whoever or whatever it wasthat spoke knew not only her name, but the trend of her earlieststudies and theories. The "inside of a sun-ray"! This was what she hadonly the other day explained to Father Aloysius as being her firstexperience of real happiness! She tried to set her thoughts inorder--to realise her position. Here she was, a fragile human thing, ina flying ship of her own design, held fast by atmospheric force abovean unknown city situate somewhere in the Great Desert,--and some one inthat city was conversing with her by a method of "wireless" as yetundiscovered by admitted science,--yet communication was perfect andwords distinct. Following up the suggestion presented to her she said--
"You are speaking to me in English. Are you all English folk in yourcity?"
A faint quiver as of laughter vibrated through the "Sound Ray."
"No, indeed! We have no nationality."
"No nationality?"
"None. We are one people. But we speak every language that ever hasbeen spoken in the past, or is spoken in the present. I speak Englishto you because it is your manner of talk, though not your manner oflife."
"How do you know it is not my manner of life?"
"Because you are not happy in it. Your manner of life is ours. It hasnothing to do with nations or peoples. You are Morgana."
"And you?" she cried with sudden eagerness--"Oh, who are you that speakto me?--man, woman, or angel? What are the dwellers in your city, if itis in truth a city, and not a dream!"
"Look again and see!" answered the Voice--"Convince yourself!--do notbe deceived! You are not dreaming--
Look and make yourself sure!"
Impelled to movement, she went to the window which she had left to takeup the steering-gear,--and from there saw again the wonderful scenespread out below, the towers, spires, cupolas and bridges, all lit withthat mysterious golden luminance like smouldering sunset fire.
"It is beautiful!" she said--"It seems true--it seems real--"
"It IS true-it IS real!"--the Voice replied--"It has been seen by manytravellers,--but because they can never approach it they call it adesert 'mirage.' It is more real and more lasting than any other cityin the world."
"Can I never enter it?" she asked, appealingly--"Will you never let mein?"
There was a silence, which seemed to her very long. Still standing atthe window of her cabin she looked down on the shining city, a broadstretch of splendid gold luminance under the canopy of the dark skywith its millions of stars. Then the Voice answered her--
"Yes--if you come alone!"
These words sounded so close to her ear that she felt sure the speakermust be standing beside her.
"I will come!" she said, impulsively--"Somehow--some way!--no matterhow difficult or dangerous! I will come!"
As she spoke she was conscious of a curious vibration round her, asthough some other thing than the ceaseless, silent throbbing of theair-ship's mechanism had disturbed the atmosphere.
"Wait!" said the Voice--"You say this without thought. You do notrealise the meaning of your words. For--if you come, you must stay!"
A thrill ran through her blood.
"I must stay!" she echoed--"Why?"
"Because you have learned the Life-Secret,"--answered the Voice--"And,as you have learned it, so must you live. I will tell you more if youcare to hear--"
An inrush of energy came to her as she listened--she felt that theunseen speaker acknowledged the power which she herself knew shepossessed.
"With all my soul I care to hear!" she said--"But where do you speakfrom? And who are you that speak?"
"I speak from the central Watch-Tower,"--the Voice replied--"The Cityis guarded from that point--and from there we can send messages allover the world in every known language. Sometimes they areunderstood--more often they are ignored,--but we, who have lived sincebefore the coming of Christ, have no concern with such as do not orwill not hear. Our business is to wait and watch while the ages goby,--wait and watch till we are called forth to the new world.Sometimes our messages cross the 'wireless' Marconi system--and someconfusion happens--but generally the 'Sound Ray' carries straight toits mark. You must well understand all that is implied when you say youwill come to us,--it means that you leave the human race as you haveknown it and unite yourself with another human race as yet unknown tothe world!"
Here was an overwhelming mystery--but, nothing daunted, Morgana pursuedher enquiry.
"You can talk to me on the Sound Ray"--she said--"And I understand itspossibility. You should equally be able to project your own portrait--atrue similitude of yourself--on a Light Ray. Let me see you!"
"You are something of a wilful spirit!" answered the Voice--"But youknow many secrets of our science and their results. So--as you wishit--"
Another second, and the cabin was filled with a pearly lustre like thevapour which sweeps across the hills in an early summer dawn--and inthe center of this as in an aureole stood a nobly proportioned figure,clad in gold-coloured garments fashioned after the early Greek models.Presumably this personage was human,--but never was a semblance ofhumanity so transfigured. The face and form were those of a beautifulyouth,--the eyes were deep and brilliant,--and the expression of thefeatures was one of fine serenity and kindliness. Morgana gazed andgazed, bending herself towards her wonderful visitor with all her soulin her eyes,--when suddenly the vision, if so it might be called, paledand vanished. She uttered a little cry.
"Oh, why have you gone so soon?" she exclaimed.
"It is not I who have gone,"--replied the Voice--"It is only thereflection of me. We cannot project a light picture too far or toolong. And even now--when you come to us--if you ever do come!--do youthink you will remember me?"
"How could I forget anyone so beautiful!" she said, with passionateenthusiasm.
This time the Sound Ray conveyed a vibration of musical laughter.
"Where every being has beauty for a birthright, how should you know memore than another!" said the Voice--"Beauty is common to all in ourcity--as common as health, because we obey the Divine laws of both."
She stretched out her hands appealingly.
"Oh, if I could only come to you now!" she murmured.
"Patience!" and the Voice grew softer--"There is something for you todo in the world. You must lose a love before you find it!"
She drew a quick breath. What could these words mean?
"It is time for you now to turn homeward,"--went on the Voice--"Youmust not be seen above this City at dawn. You would be attacked andinstantly destroyed, as having received a warning which you refused toheed."
"Do you attack and destroy all strangers so?" she asked--"Is that yourrule?"
"It is our rule to keep away the mischief of the modern world"--repliedthe Voice--"As well admit a pestilence as the men and women of to-day!"
"I am a woman of to-day,"--said Morgana.
"No, you are not,--you are a woman of the future!" and the Voice wasgrave and insistent--"You are one of the new race. At the appointedhour you will take your part with us in the new world?"
"When will be that hour?"
There was a pause. Then, with an exceeding sweetness and solemnity theVoice replied--
"If He will that we tarry till He come, what is that to thee?"
A sense of great awe swept over her, oppressive and humiliating. Shelooked once more through her cabin window at the city spread out below,and saw that some of the lights were being extinguished in the tallerbuildings and on the bridges which connected streets and avenues in anetwork of architectural beauty.
The Voice spoke again--
"We are releasing you from the barrier. You are free to depart."
She sighed.
"I have no wish to go!" she said.
"You must!" The Voice became commanding. "If you stay now, you and yourcompanions are doomed to perish. There is no alternative. Be satisfiedthat we know you--we watch you--we shall expect you sooner or later.Meanwhile--guide your ship!--the way is open."
Quickly she sprang to the steering-gear--she felt the "White Eagle"moving, and lifting its vast wings for flight.
"Farewell!" she cried, with a sense of tears in her throat--"Farewell!"
"Not farewell!" came the reply, spoken softly and with tenderness--"Weshall meet again soon! I will speak to you in Sicily!"
"In Sicily!" she exclaimed, joyfully--"You will speak to me there?"
"There and everywhere!" answered the Voice--"The Sound Ray knows nodistance. I shall speak--and you shall hear--whenever you will!"
The last syllables died away like faintly sung music--and in a few moreseconds the great air-ship was sailing steadily in a level line and ata swift pace onward,--the last shining glimpse of the mysterious Cityvanished, and the "White Eagle" soared over a sable blackness of emptydesert, through a dark space besprinkled with stars. Filled with a newsense of power and gladness, Morgana held the vessel in the guidance ofher slight but strong hands, and it had flown many miles before theMarchese Rivardi sprang up suddenly from where he had lain lost inunconsciousness and stared around him amazed and confused.
"A thousand pardons, Madama!" he stammered--"I shall never forgivemyself! I have been asleep!"