"Trouble not yourselves; for I will guide ye a few hours' journey hence, and put ye in the path that leads thereto."
"I am afraid, worthy Kios, we shall never be able to repay you," said the Doctor.
"Ye saved my life; it is but well that I should seek to save yours in return. Besides, I aim Perodii a blow, through ye—and it is always sweet to strike one's enemies. Know ye, I was rich and noble once, with rank and dignity almost as high as he. Through his knavery and wickedness, I am degraded to the calling of a hunter to the palace, banished from my home in Edos, and owe what little I now possess—even my life itself—to the clemency of the King. Some day the truth may prevail, and I be restored to my rights. Had Perodii honour enough left to speak, he could accomplish this in few words; yet he remains silent; and I suffer, because I resented the great wrong he did me. But we waste time in needless words. Get ye ready, and let us hasten hence; for the path is heavy, and the way is long."
We reluctantly left our comfortable quarters, and started off with Kios through the darkness. The night was calm and beautifully fine—just one of those delicious evenings that make the tropics of Earth so sweet, when the broiling heat of the day is spent. Kios led us by a circuitous route down the wooded hillside; and we passed so near to Pamax, that the roar of its machinery sounded clearly in the night, and the glow from its thousands of furnaces shone against the sky like a mighty conflagration.
"The men of Pamax work late," remarked Temple, with a manufacturer's instinct, and thinking of his own noisy looms at home on Earth.
"The wheels of their machinery are never still," answered Kios. "The worker's lot is hard, but they are a cheerful community, if their greed of gain is great."
We soon passed Pamax, with its noise and fire, and reached the calm, quiet country again. At last the forest was left behind us, and we walked for an hour across a wide prairie, on which grew herbs of singular odour. Then we followed the banks of a wide river, and after passing through a dark and dangerous swampy jungle—something like the forest of reeds in which we first descended—Kios stopped and said:
"Men of Ramos, here I must leave ye. The night will be nearly spent ere I get back to the woods of Theloth, and there are those who must not see me return. Look ye at yonder group of stars," pointing, as he spoke, to a constellation something like Ursa Major, the Great Bear, in our own heavens. "Mark ye them well; keep them straight before ye; and in two hours' march ye will reach the sea. Strike north along the coast a short day's journey, until ye come to a rocky creek. Follow the stream that falls therein, skirting the base of a spent volcano; and in three days' more easy travelling, ye will sight the great observatory of Helmath, standing on a high hill on your right hand. Behind that hill is the city itself. Advance ye with caution; and hold no converse with the men of Gathma until ye reach Helmath; or swift and certain ruin will overtake ye. Now haste away, and fare ye well."
Without waiting to hear our words of thanks for all his kindness, Kios waved his hand to us in farewell, and walked away into the gloom. We travelled slower without his guidance, for the way was rough; and sometimes clouds obscured the stars, which were our beacon light, and we had oft to wait until they had drifted by. Instead, therefore, of reaching the coast in two hours, we were nearly six; and the day was breaking as the grey waters of the Gathma sea spread far and wide before us. We were both tired and hungry; and so amongst the rocks on the beach we made a fire, and had our breakfast. Then we sat and rested for two hours before beginning our march along the coast.
After crossing some four miles of level sand, we reached a dense forest, which extended from the margin of the water inland beyond the range of our vision. Here the curious vegetation was so dense that the sun failed to penetrate the canopy of foliage; but the ground was bare of brushwood, and walking was easy and pleasant. Some curious trees, shaped like a mighty fungus, or an open umbrella, excited our wonder. They bore no leaves, but threw out a thick, unbroken canopy, of the colour and texture of an aloe plant, which curved downwards nearly to the ground; and above this, from the centre of the stem, shot a spike of crimson flowers, a yard or more in length. Each tree formed an admirable tent; and many of them seemed to be of vast age; the canopy being furrowed as with the growth of centuries, the edges torn into dry and withered ribbons, and the stems of enormous girth. At first we really took them to be the habitations of human beings or beasts; and it was not until we had examined them closely that we ascertained they were really trees.
As we went farther into the forest these curious trees increased in number and in size; indeed, in some places they covered the ground so thickly, that it was difficult to walk amongst them; and we found it best and quickest to make a detour. In passing one of these groves of vegetable umbrellas, we were startled by a perfect tumult of chattering cries, and scores of strange beings hurried out from under them and surrounded us, skipping and hopping about, running to and fro like fiends in the dusky light of the forest. Had we not seen these singular beings with our own eyes, we should never have believed in their existence. They were fashioned much like ourselves from the feet to the shoulders, the arms, however, being proportionately much shorter—but there all outward resemblance ceased. Neck they had none, the shoulders gradually tapering away to the head, which was free from hair, and the face was intermediate in expression between that of a man, and the higher or Simian race of beasts. Their bodies were entirely naked, and of a chalky-brown colour, and they averaged perhaps five feet in height. So fierce and threatening did these curious creatures become that we fired our rifles off to frighten them, which had the desired effect, and they fled in chattering terror, grinning and grimacing into the trees, and we saw them no more. Whether they were gifted with greater than brute intelligence we know not; we were too startled and alarmed to make a closer acquaintance with them. Dr. Hermann himself was visibly disconcerted; and the rest of us were glad when they vanished from our sight, Sandy especially so—-perhaps he dreaded the Doctor sending him in quest of one of these curious creatures. Even our dog refused to go near them, and lay down trembling with fright.
SCORES OF STRANGE BEASTS HURRIED OUT FROM UNDER THEM.
SCORES OF STRANGE BEASTS HURRIED OUT FROM UNDER THEM.
It seemed incredible that such a race of animals could exist, so near to so mighty and populous a town as Pamax; but we were in a world of surprises, and things that appeared unnatural to us, were rational enough, no doubt, to the dwellers on the land of Mars.
All day we passed through this wonderful forest, now catching a glimpse of broad daylight as the trees grew less closely together, then entering a world of shadows and steamy gloom as the canopy became denser once more. We saw trees that were nothing but bare poles, tapering to a point far up in the sky, without branch or leaf, except a little green cup at the summit; others were draped in curiously-curled foliage; others, yet again, decked in noble, fan-shaped leaves a dozen feet across. Some put us in mind of the earthly tropics; but the great majority were entirely new, both in growth and form. The vegetable wonders around us made us forget our fatigue, and even our hunger. We never once thought to halt and rest throughout the livelong day; and we continued walking on and on through the forest until we reached the creek which Kios had told us we should find at the end of our day's journey.
It was a wild, lonely spot, enclosed with tall cliffs on either side, and perhaps half a mile across. The forest continued on the other side at the top of the rocks, as it ceased on this. We had little trouble in finding a suitable camping-place by the side of a tiny stream which tumbled over the cliffs in a shower of spray into the creek below, and furnished us with fresh water, that of the sea being salt and bitter to the taste. Here we formed a rude hut of branches, made our fire, and cooked some of the dried meat that Kios had insisted we should take when we left his forest-home the previous evening. To-night we decided that one of us should keep watch while the others slept, in case of our retreat being discovered by enemies. But the night passed uneventfully away, nothing occurring to disturb our slumbers or to break our peace.
We were moving early, and off on our way by sunrise. For the first hour or so we followed the creek through the depths of the forest; but when we reached the river the aspect of the country changed considerably. It was now an undulating park-like land, with groves of scarlet-foliaged trees.
Far away on the horizon loomed the towering heights of the exhausted volcano, round whose base was the path we had to follow. The scenery was very beautiful, but somehow we had not the heart to admire it, for we felt like fugitives flying to a castle of refuge, through a land teeming with unknown perils and hidden enemies. We left the river, as the banks were too steep and uneven to follow, and gradually ascended the lower spurs of the mountain, that being by far the easiest route. By noon we halted under the towering crest of the dead volcano. The sides were steep and rocky, though covered with many kinds of vegetation, notably a large tree with leaves and flowers like a rhododendron. Here a deep hollow had become a small lake, fringed with curious rushes, over whose placid waters a large troop of white, legless birds, similar to those we saw before, were disporting themselves.
Here we made a fire, and cooked some food. As we were quietly eating our meal, we were startled by an exclamation from Graham.
"Look! look!" he cried in an excited tone. "The troops! the troops from Edos! We are discovered, surrounded!"
The peril of our position was only too true. Stealthily our pursuers had spread themselves in a wide semicircle from the river, extending their flanks round either side of the mountain; and, though still nearly a mile away, they were closing upon us with frightful haste.
"Leave all but the firearms and ammunition, and follow me," shouted the Doctor, leading the way up the hillside amongst the dense brushwood. Our movement was noticed at once by the approaching soldiers, and with a lusty shout they came on in hot pursuit. But the way was rough and steep, and we had the advantage of being much higher up the mountain slope than they. For quite two miles we struggled on, without losing ground or gaining it, until we reached a part of the mountain-side which was strewn with huge boulders of pumice. Here we lost sight of our pursuers, although we could hear their shouts and trumpet-calls below us, and sank down to rest a moment and get our breath. We had not tarried here for more than half a minute, when Sandy's practised eye caught sight of a hole in the ground, twenty paces lower down the hill. We went to examine it, and found that it was a crevice in the side of the volcano, just large enough at the entrance to squeeze our bodies through, but soon becoming much larger inside.
"Quick!" said the Doctor, "help me to roll this block of pumice to the entrance. We can hide in this hole; at any rate, it is a chance—our only chance. We will place the stone so that, once inside, we can roll it over the opening, and by this means conceal the hole from view, should the soldiers happen to pass over the spot."
The huge mass of pumice was exceedingly light, and we found no difficulty in doing what the Doctor had suggested. One after the other we scrambled into the hillside crevice, and then Graham, he being the strongest, managed to pull the stone over us, and we were immediately in darkness. Now, for the first time, we missed poor Rover; in our anxiety and excitement we had not noticed him near us for some time; nor did we ever see the faithful old dog again!
Here for half an hour we remained motionless, huddled together, and not daring to speak in voices higher than a whisper. We heard shout after shout from the troopers, and signal after signal from their loud-mouthed trumpets, and we knew our enemies were baffled, for we whom they sought so eagerly had utterly vanished! We heard them clambering over the boulders and dislodging the smaller stones as they wandered hither and thither round the place where we were concealed: and once a big warrior, panting for breath, actually came and leaned against the block of pumice that concealed our hiding-place, and then went his way! At last, all became still near at hand; we could hear our enemies in the distance, but the sound they made grew fainter and fainter, and then ceased altogether. They were gone, and for the present, at least, we were saved!
Meantime we had not been idle. As soon as we dared move without the possibility of the soldiers hearing us, we began to explore our refuge. The rift extended downwards and inwards towards the centre of the mountain, but the jagged rocks and the darkness made our progress most perilous, and at last we had to give up in despair. We struck a few wax-vestas Graham chanced to have in one of his pockets, but their feeble flame only served to render the surrounding darkness more hideous and profound. There was nothing for it but to return to the entrance, and there we waited and waited all the afternoon until sunset, fearful to go out until the night should cloak our movements from the view of any enemies still lurking near. As the short twilight was coming to an end, the Doctor said in a low tone:
"One of us must go back to the camp by the lake, for our knapsacks. We must have food, if by any possible good fortune these troops have left our things undisturbed. The rest must stay here; for I think we could not find safer quarters for a day or so, until our enemies have grown weary of the search, and depart to try elsewhere. I am ready——"
"No, Doctor," broke in Graham. "I will not hear of what you were about to propose. I volunteer the task of going back myself. You are far from strong yet, and the fatigue is too much for you."
"But I am willing to go," said Temple.
"Let me go, Doctor! I can be back in no time, I am more used to the hills than any o' ye," pleaded Sandy.
"Enough, comrades; the task, after all, is a trivial one. You remain here; I will go," Graham answered; and pushing the block aside as he spoke, he scrambled out into the evening gloom, and we heard his cautious footsteps sounding fainter and fainter as he went his way.
He picked a path down the steep hillside, and struggled through the thickets, every now and then stopping to listen. In half an hour he reached the lake; but, owing to the darkness, he had mistaken the path and gone nearly a mile to the east of the spot where our camp had been. Perhaps it was fortunate that he did so; for across the water he saw the blazing fires of a great encampment, and dusky figures passing to and fro before them. So the troops of Edos had not given up the search so readily; and Perodii, evidently, was determined on revenge. Cautiously Graham made a detour, and reached the big rock where we had eaten our last meal; and there to his joy he found our knapsacks by the side of the blackened ashes of the fire. Strong man as he was, he did not feel able to carry the four heavy packages. He therefore hid two under a heap of pumice stones, and trudged off back up the hill with the rest. He experienced great difficulty in getting back again, and even more in finding the block of stone that concealed our retreat. Indeed, it is doubtful if he ever would have found it at all, had we not heard him stumbling about the stones, and guided him to the cave by our signal whistles.
We were glad Graham had got back safely, and to see that he had brought so much of our belongings; but the news that he had seen the camp-fires of our enemies sank like cold despair into our hearts. We had a bitterly relentless foe to deal with, and our situation seemed growing more and more hopeless.
"I am very glad you brought my knapsack, Graham," said the Doctor, "as it contains my electric lamp. We will now go further into the cave, as it is important that we should know the extent of our resources when the hour of need comes."
By the light from wax tapers, burnt one after the other, we got the package undone, and soon had the lamp in working order. Its brilliant rays lit-up the cavity so well that we could see many yards before us. The Doctor led the way, lamp in hand, and following him, we climbed down deeper and deeper, and further and further, into the very bowels of the dead volcano. The cavern now began to reach an enormous size, and our light was powerless to pierce the great blackness around us, comparatively speaking, for any distance. At first the lamp illuminated the rugged walls of this ancient furnace, and the rocks, in every conceivable fantastic shape, looked grim and ghostly in the blue electric light; but as we went on and on these jagged cliffs, moulded by the molten fires of long-passed ages, gradually receded from the penetrating light, until at last the rough ground beneath us was all that was visible, and the vast immeasurable dome of the extinct crater loomed in dark weird mystery around us, our lamp but as a feeble star within its profound unknown depths. We must have travelled nearly a mile into the mountain, when we were surprised beyond measure to see the starry vault of heaven through a vast rent in the top of the cavern, thousands of feet above our heads. The crater, the entire mountain, was hollow, and the hole in the shell above us had been the vent for its now long-ago burnt-out fire! We were actually in the very core of a volcano. We proceeded but a few more steps, when the rays from our lamp revealed a vast yawning chasm before us, the light reflecting on a gulf of blackness, and not being powerful enough to illumine the furthermost edge of the pit. We shuddered as we looked at the awful abyss, and pictured to ourselves our ghastly fate if we had by some fatality walked over its terrible edge. An immense block of stone, that Graham and Sandy rolled down the steep declivity which led to the actual chasm, pitched into the blackness, and we heard it thundering down into the dizzy depths, first striking on one side, and then on the other, as it rebounded in its awful leaps like a mere pebble, the sounds echoing and re-echoing through the hollow dome around us. Then the blows sounded fainter and fainter to our ears, and finally died completely away, as if the boulder had leaped into another vaulted cavern still lower down, or been ground to dust by the force of its fall, and we heard no more!
Here under the very crest of the mountain, amongst the very roots of this rugged volcano, we lay down to rest; but not one of us could sleep. The grandeur of the surroundings kept us awake, even though we had put out our lamp, and the only ray of light in the pitchy darkness was the opening above us to the sky. All night we lay here watching the scintillating stars, like fiery gems, until one by one they became wan and indistinct with the coming dawn, and gradually the space around us was illumined as with a twilight brightness. The sun had risen, and the outer world was bathed in warmth; yet only a sickly reflection of the day penetrated into our magnificently grand, if cold and dismal refuge!
Anon the sun in his course across the sky shone down the mouth of the crater, and the light became stronger. We seated ourselves in the circle of his rays, and here we ate our cheerless meal—the remainder of the flesh we had had from Kios, and a few biscuits. Fortunately, our water supply was ample; the precious liquid dropped incessantly from far up in the rugged heights of the hollow mountain's roof; it trickled along the ground, and accumulated in little pools among the pumice stones at our feet. As we ate our meal, and tried to warm our chilled bodies in the faint sunshine, a great mass of rock came hurtling down from the very summit, and leaped with an awful rushing sound into the chasm, and for long we heard its terrific progress into the uttermost depths of the volcano. We looked up in terror and sprang to our feet, expecting each moment to be our last, and that the mountain itself was going to collapse and bury us like moles beneath its tottering ruins!
But even a worse fate than that threatened us, for boldly outlined against the sky, with helmets glinting in the sun, peering down into the gloomy depths were several of the troops from Edos, in the very act of hurling another piece of rock upon us. We started back in horror, and hurried out of the focus of that death-dealing aperture, burying ourselves from sight in the surrounding gloom.
"So our hiding-place is discovered, and we may expect no mercy from the bloodhounds," said Graham.
"We will fight for liberty this time," rejoined the Doctor, in a cool and resolute voice. "Fight, and die fighting," he continued, "rather than fall into the power of those merciless, cold-blooded people of Edos again."
Temple and Sandy were equally determined to fight to the last, and we began to prepare ourselves for the coming fray. We again turned on our electric lamp, and retreated into the darkest depths of the cavern in search of some spot where we might advantageously fight our foes. We discovered a small mound of broken rocks on the floor of the mountain, and on the summit of this we built up a rough rampart, behind which we might find some shelter when firing. Then, by the light of the lamp, we carefully examined our rifles and revolvers, and made ready our ammunition. We agreed that Graham and Sandy should fire, they being the best shots, and that the Doctor and Temple should load and hand the weapons. If we came to close quarters, each was to use his own revolver as best he could.
Before we had finished all our preparations, the great mountain vault began to echo with the steps of advancing troops. Clearly they knew of this wondrous cavern, and must have been aware of other and easier ways of entrance than the one we had chanced to discover. They were searching every nook and corner of the mountain as they came, and we could now form some idea of the vastness of the cavern by the length of the advancing line of troops. What astonished us most was their method of illuminating their path through the darkness. As seen from the distance of a mile, the movements of the coming troops were marked by a line of little fire-balls, irregularly dancing and bobbing to and fro; and as the soldiers came nearer we saw that each one had what appeared to be an incandescent lamp attached to his left ankle, which lit up the ground before him for a few yards! We held our breath in our great excitement, and curiously watched the foe. Then Sandy and Graham each took their trusty rifles and knelt behind the rough rampart, ready to fire the moment a good opportunity occurred. It was no use waiting until the troops advanced, because discovery was certain; their line of coming searchers were bound to cross the hill on which we were entrenched!
Our hiding-place was still undiscovered, and the troops were not more than two hundred yards away. We watched the line of lights break into two and circle round the yawning gulf; we saw a few troopers advance into the subdued light below the crater's mouth, and then disappear again into the darkness. Then Graham covered one of the dusky forms, and after taking careful aim, pulled the trigger and missed! The line was unbroken. A second afterwards, Sandy's piece went off with no better luck, the light being too uncertain for accurate aim. The awful echoes that our exploding rifles raised are beyond the powers of language to describe them. The vast vault seemed to be cracking in twain, and the reverberations appeared never going to subside. For a moment the troops were filled with panic; but we heard voices as of commanders cheering and encouraging their faltering men, and a moment after we were literally blinded by a vivid flood of brilliant light which gleamed out from behind us. Dazzled and blinded though we were, we saw at once that we were surrounded by enemies, another detachment having surprised us from the rear. We were now as exposed to view as if we had been in the open air, under the blazing sun of noonday, and before one of us could recover from his astonishment and fire a shot in defence, our position was stormed, our rifles and revolvers wrenched from our hands, and we were helpless as babes in the power of our enemies.
What the light really was, whence it came, or how it was produced, we knew not, but it continued burning until we and our captors reached the open air. The wild, savage scene of grandeur, revealed when the hollow mountain was made to disclose its hidden splendour by the penetrating light, can never fade from our memory. Though captives, and bowed down with hopeless despair, we were compelled to look, nay, even to admire! The misery of our position was forgotten in the glory of that cave, whose appearance bore eloquent and silent testimony to the stupendous forces of volcanic action. The brilliant light lit up even the very highest parts of the lofty mountain dome, showing hollows, and jagged points, and enormous icicle-shaped masses of gold and silver, and other richly-coloured but, to us, unknown metals, which had formed there as the molten interior of the volcano had suddenly cooled in rest. Some of the half-burnt rocks scintillated with unconsumable crystals; others were ground smooth as marble by the troubled action of a seething sea; and great masses formed of a dozen different metals were to be seen here and there, wedged in between the ruin of rocks. So rugged and loose was the roof in some places, that it looked as if the very echoes of our footsteps would dislodge acres of boulders and send them tumbling down in mad confusion. But we were marched as quickly as possible out of the mountain, and, in spite of our cruel fate, in our hearts we were thankful to leave this terrible chasm behind us, and once more to find ourselves under the canopy of heaven, in the full and blessed light of day.
We were immediately manacled, and conducted to the camp by the lake, where, in a spacious tent, Perodii sat in state. A gleam of intense hatred passed over his dark and savagely handsome face as we were marshalled into his presence. All Graham's courageous spirit seemed to return as he looked once more upon his rival and his enemy, and he returned Perodii's glances with a look of withering and defiant scorn.
"So, man of Ramos, with all thy cunning and with all thy magic arts thou hast fallen once more into my power," said Perodii in a sarcastic voice, addressing Graham alone, and seeming not to notice the rest of us at all. 'We shall meet again,' thou saidst at Remagaloth, and we have done so. And now thou shalt bitterly repent thy insolent behaviour, and to ME shalt thou cry aloud in thy woe for mercy. Thou shalt beg for death, yet shalt not die; thou shalt crave a speedy doom, yet shalt linger on and on in burning pain; but I will laugh at thy agony and scoff at thy prayers, thou low-born knave, thou seed of evil, who hath sought to steal the favours of the woman I desired."
"You speak the words of a coward! Strike off these cursed chains, I say, you lying scoundrel, and let fair combat decide between us. I fear no braggart such as you, who can only heap insults upon a fettered and a helpless man. Strike off these chains, I say, and then——"
"Hold thy peace! or I will have thy noisy tongue cut out," Perodii answered, stung by Graham's bitter words. "Back to Edos shalt thou go; and the lake of Melag shall be a couch of flowers compared with the bed of thorny agony on which thou now shalt slowly die. Perodii hates thee: and—take heed of what thou sayest—hates thee for thy cursed interference with the woman he would have favoured, and might have wed!"
"Wife! Wife! Volinè your wife! Know that she despises you as much as she loves and favours me, and long has she known your designs of evil upon at least one maiden's innocence. You, a scoundrel such as you, whose name is but another word for villainy throughout all Edos, take Volinè to wife!—--"
"Take heed of what thou sayest, or thy death shall be made more terrible than the one I have already planned for thee," said Perodii, starting to his feet in rage, and half drawing the heavy knife which hung sheathed from his girdle.
"My words are true, as you will know," continued Graham, his voice getting louder as he went on. "Volinè is mine! Coward, do you hear me?—is MINE! Behold this ring—her ring—upon my finger, a pledge and token of her love, and a talisman to preserve its wearer from a violent death!"—and as he spoke he held out his fettered hand, in triumph, to show his treasured gift.
"Then, when she weds thee, she shall have a corpse for her groom. Ha! Ha! Methinks Volinè, much as thou sayest she loves thee, will shun thee in death! Death is but a sorry mate upon a bridal couch!"
"Your threats are but empty words. My comrades' lives and my own are in the King's keeping. He speaks, and we may die; he says the word, and we go free. Already Echri's displeasure has been shown by our miraculous escape from Remagaloth. The King—yea, even the King—will not tempt his holy wrath a second time!"
"For little I would strip this ring from off thy hand."
"You dare not! Know you not that he who seeks to take it by force, or by stealth, is cursed? And braver men than you would hesitate before risking their souls' damnation!" said Graham calmly.
"Faugh! I want not thy paltry bauble. Old Echri is but a woman's comforter, and turns their pretty heads with his ghostly nonsense."
"So long as I wear it, Perodii, it is beyond your power to harm me, try as you will——"
"Enough! I forget myself in holding argument with such as thee," retorted Perodii, who then, addressing the guards standing round us, said:
"Take this boasting fool from my presence, or by my eternal soul I may repent me my hatred, and by slaying him at once, cheat myself of the pleasure of witnessing his lingering agony."
"Perodii, the boasting is all with you——"
Graham's sentence was never finished, for he was hurried from the tent at once, and we quickly followed, surrounded by guards. Graham was manacled heavier than the rest of us, stooping under the weight of his brazen fetters, and was confined by himself in the watchful keeping of a double guard. That night we were taken some distance across country, perhaps thirty miles, until we reached a large building standing by itself on an open plain. In this was a deep shaft which we descended by a winding stair; and there at the bottom we found waiting for us a curious carriage which passed through a tunnel or tube, fitting tightly as a piston-rod in a cylinder. This was worked either by some system of pneumatics or by electric currents, we could not say which, as our departure was so hurried. In two hours, as near as we could judge, travelling through this tube at a speed which put us in mind of theSirius, we reached another and similar building, and, ascending a spiral stair, came to the surface. To our utter astonishment we had reached Edos, and were marched through the silent, deserted streets in the dead of night, back to our old prison in the King of Gathma's Palace!
Heavily chained and without food we were left in our old quarters until morning, not even the benefit of a light being vouchsafed to us. For this harsh treatment we had only Perodii to thank; indeed, it was highly improbable that the King had been apprised of our return, as we arrived at so late an hour. We passed the remainder of the night in miserable suspense, listening to the regular tramp of the guards outside, and saying little to each other.
"I hope, Graham, you now see the folly of your foolish intrigue with this woman. Had it not been for her we should never have incurred the anger and the hatred of this Prince Perodii; the King would have overlooked our killing Osa, and we should now be free," said the Doctor, with more irritation in his voice than we had ever heard before.
"Come, come, Doctor," answered Temple, "it's no use reproaching Graham; and this scoundrel of a Prince Perodii may yet go a little too far."
"But how can that help us? How can his downfall shake off our fetters? How can his evil fortune bring our release from captivity, or save us from death?" continued the Doctor, with a dogged determination to stick to his opinions on women in general.
"I'll back a woman's wit to find a way," Temple went on. "Volinè's dislike for this Perodii, and her partiality for Graham, will act as irresistible incentives to triumph over the man she despises, and save the other whom she loves."
"We have not had much evidence to confirm what you say, Temple," said the Doctor, as obstinately as ever.
"True," answered Temple; "but you cannot suppose that this girl has remained idle. Depend upon it, her royal father has had to put up with a good deal of coaxing and entreaty on behalf of her lover. She will be sure to take advantage of our escape from Remagaloth, and make the most of her time, unless she is very different from the girls of Earth. Perodii's absence from Edos, too, favours her efforts, and she will have had a clear field. Then there is this Echri——"
"Pray draw the line at the supernatural. This ring affair is not worth serious words—a lot of humbugging duplicity, shielded by religion. No! you will never convince me, Temple. As I said before, so I say again, women are the root of all mischief; and it is a thousand pities this Volinè ever became mixed up in our affairs."
"Well, well, Doctor, we won't argue further, it only makes unpleasantness."
All through this controversy Graham never uttered a word. He sat still in the darkest corner of the room, and only the occasional jingle of his brass fetters told us that he was awake. Secretly he enjoyed this conversation about his dear one. It was untold joy to him to be back again under the very roof that sheltered her, to be so close to her; and the hope of seeing her again gave him strength, and brightened the dark hours of his captivity. He never lost confidence in the beautiful girl who had made him happy by giving him her love; and he knew that he and his companions would neither be forgotten nor forsaken in their need. He would not provoke discord in their little band by argument with his good and worthy friend, Doctor Hermann, on the only topic on which they were bound to disagree. He preferred to sit in silence through the night, with glad thoughts of Volinè for his company. He had escaped what looked like certain death, he was back near the woman who was all-in-all to him; the very garden in which they had met and tasted the secrets of love was but outside the prison window; the dark hopeless future, which had appeared but a stormy plain of wild despair, stretching away, away unto death, seemed already tinged with the dawn of happiness! He knew Volinè's ring had already delivered him twice from great peril; and he felt, whatever danger might betide, the secret of salvation therefrom circled round his finger a sacred charm against death. That he could impart a little of this confidence in the virtues of his treasure to his comrades was his constant wish—not for his own sake, but for theirs. Yet all that he could say had been already said. The Doctor continued to pooh-pooh its efficacy; Temple was wont to smile and listen, half incredulous, yet impressed considerably by his earnestness. Each, however, required more palpable proof than that already given. "They forget," Graham continued to muse, as he lay listening to the Doctor and Temple talking, "that they are in a new world, beyond all earthly influence; and that the power of this holy Echri is mysterious and unnatural, only because it is new and strange to us. Were it rendered familiar to us by earthly custom and every-day experience, we should look upon it as a most natural thing. We must be prepared for all kinds of surprises here. If a great and holy man of this world possesses a power which is invested solely in God in our own, why should we marvel?"
As he sat musing thus the ring upon his finger suddenly glowed with great heat, and made him cry out in agony.
"Why, Graham, what is the matter?" said all three of his companions together.
"Nothing; it was a sudden spasm. I must have been dreaming. I am all right, I assure you," he answered, resolving to conceal the actual cause of his transient pain. "It seems like some manifestation of Echri's," he mused. "Well, I believe in his power, and have faith in his ring. I cannot help myself, I am compelled to do so." Then, speaking aloud, he continued:
"I hope you are not very greatly inconvenienced by these cursed fetters, my friends. The night is nearly spent, and I hope daylight will bring release."
"Mr. Graham, ha' ye no chance o' breakin awa'?" said Sandy. "These chains are uncommon heavy and tiresome."
"None this time, Sandy—I don't feel up to it; besides, they are stronger than they were before. Be patient till the morning, and then we shall see what turns up. Something good, I hope, for all our sakes."
Beyond a word or two of enquiry, first from one and then from another, as to how each was bearing up in misfortune, the remainder of the night was passed in silence. Sometimes we dozed, and woke again with a start of alarm, wondering where we were; then we lay and listened to the guards pacing to and fro outside our door, or the noise of the distant fountains in the garden of Siccoth. The time passed slowly enough, and by the dawn we felt terribly cramped and sore, owing to our being compelled to remain almost in one position the livelong night.
The sun had been up several hours before our prison door was opened, and food brought to us. Perodii came with the guards, and was again most insulting in his language.
"Let loose these dogs of Ramos for a little season, until they have eaten," he commenced, addressing the guards standing at the half-open door. Then turning to us, he exclaimed:
"Perodii hopes ye have all passed a pleasant night; they sleep safely who repose in chains. Now up and to your victuals; but methinks ye will not find them such dainty fare as when the traitor Kaosp provided them. By my soul, we will have no more of such nonsense! Prisoners ye are; and as prisoners shall ye be treated, so long as Perodii hath the charge of ye. And hark ye, no more shall that wanton wench, Volinè, or her gifts and favours, be admitted here! Guards, heed well my words; that man shall die who admits that forn——"
"Perodii! how darest thou utter such words concerning me, the daughter of thy King?" said Volinè, and she pushed the trembling guards aside and walked into the room, her cheeks scarlet with burning indignation, her eyes aflame with anger, and her hands clenched tightly to control her passion.
"What doest thou here, Volinè?" exclaimed Perodii, starting violently, and evidently ill at ease, but preserving with a mighty effort his usual air of bravado. "Meddle not with my affairs, or, by the living God, I will acquaint the King with thy brazen interference."
"What do I here? That is no business of thine. I come to set these prisoners free, and to conduct them to my father's presence, not as his captives but as his guests! Strike off those bonds and chains this instant, or the King's just wrath shall overtake thee. Guards! in the King's name Volinè commands ye! Strike off——"
"Stay!" shouted Perodii in a voice of rage, and pointing to the door. "Volinè, this is no place for thee! Get thee hence to thy apartment, and there wait thy father's pleasure."
"Braggart, hold thy peace! Volinè is no child, to be chid by thee. Thou hast enough to answer for! Go! The daughter of thy King hath bidden thee go!"
"And what if I refuse? These guards are my servants, and await my orders."
"Thy servants! Say the King's, thy master! Now guards, advance, and do my bidding——"
"Let a soldier stir, and he shall die!" shrieked Perodii, beside himself with passion.
"We obey thee, Volinè, even as we obey the King," said their captain, leading forward his men, and in a moment our fetters were struck off and we were free. Perodii, without another word, walked away, his face livid with rage and hatred.
"That mon bears us na guid-will, Mr. Graham," muttered Sandy, as we watched the discomfited prince hurry away.
Our lives had been full of eventful surprises, from the moment that we had descended upon the surface of this strange world, and this last unexpected change in our fortunes seemed one of the most wonderful of all. As yet, Volinè had not addressed a single syllable to any one of us; but a smile of ineffable sweetness stole over her handsome face, and blushes like as the tints of an opening rose glowed all unbidden on her cheeks as she glanced at Graham for an instant, and met the look of admiration and pleasure with which he was lovingly regarding her—her, his dear one, from whom he had been ruthlessly torn asunder and had now rejoined.
"Good Himos, thyself and thy comrades may now depart," said Volinè, addressing the captain of the guard. "I will myself conduct these men of Ramos to my father's presence. Thou hast nought to fear from thy disobedience of Perodii. From this hour must thou cease to take commands from him, until such time as it may be the King's, thy master's, pleasure to order otherwise."
Bowing low, Himos gave the word to his troops, who marched away, led by him, from our prison-chamber along the corridor, but in an opposite direction to that taken by Perodii. Volinè then advanced towards us with hands held out in welcome, and smiling sweetly said, in a voice from time to time trembling with emotion:
"Men of Ramos, no words that I can speak can say the sorrow that I feel for all the indignities and hardships ye have suffered since entering our royal city, Edos. My soul doth grieve within me at your unjust treatment from the hands of the King, my father; but his mind hath been poisoned and biassed against ye by him who brought ye here in chains, and sought your ruin, to gratify his own feelings of revenge. Since ye were so miraculously delivered from death at the crag Remagaloth, the King hath doubted the wisdom of his judgment on ye, and ye would at least have been free to go your way unmolested, had not Perodii prevailed upon the King to be allowed to take ye captives, to bring ye here again, and then to carry out the awful sentence of the Supreme Court himself! So far hath he been favoured, but his villainy is now unmasked; wiser counsel hath prevailed with the King. In bestowing upon ye, O distinguished and learned strangers from Ramos, his royal pardon, he offers ye his hospitality and protection, so long as ye may make this our world your home. But come now with me to his royal presence, and hear words of welcome and of freedom from his own lips. He waiteth to break his morning bread with ye.
"Stay thee: no thanks are asked or needed," continued Volinè, with upraised finger, as Temple began to speak, "for methinks it is I that have brought much trouble on ye. Besides, ye must be full of weariness and hunger, and it is not fitting or seemly that I should keep ye longer here." And as she spoke Volinè placed a tiny whistle, wrought in fine gold and set with gems, between her lips, and blew three times, short and shrill, thereon. In a few moments two court-marshals, dressed in quaint and costly garb, and with long white wands tipped with crescents of crystal, appeared, together with four of Volinè's female attendants, and stood in respectful silence by the doorway, bowing low as the King's fair daughter passed out, beckoning us to follow her.
"We hear from this Volinè only a few fragments of the reason for this change of opinion in our favour. She has left much more untold," whispered the Doctor to Temple, as they walked along side by side behind the marshals.
"True, Doctor," answered Temple in an undertone, "but I have no doubt that this royal maid has been pleading our cause with her old father, and that her strong attachment to Graham has lent eloquence to her oratory. The complete story of our pardon is reserved for his lucky ear alone."
"Say unlucky—most unlucky, Temple; for that woman's toils are creeping round him, and too late he will feel them hampering his ambition and retarding his progress."
"Doctor, I must really give you up as an incurable. Your ideas on women are out of all focus. Still, you must admit that a woman has rescued us from a terrible position——"
"Into which she alone plunged us. No, no, Temple. We shall never agree upon it—never!" and he relapsed into silence for the rest of the way.
We walked along corridor after corridor, through lofty halls, and up and down wide staircases crammed full of curious and costly gems of art, until it seemed as though the colossal palace was an endless maze of enchantment and voluptuous grandeur. At the foot of the last staircase Volinè and her maidens passed away through a lofty archway on the right, waving us a smiling farewell as she went, and we continued to follow the two marshals alone.
At the top of this last flight of stairs we reached another archway, hung with soft and heavy draperies, on either side of which stood a guard, so still and inanimate that he looked carved out of the stone itself. As we crossed the twenty paces or so of the landing, these sphinx-like soldiers, with a common impulse, flung the curtains wide apart, and we passed through into a magnificent banquet-chamber. The scene before us dazzled us with its splendour. We had thought to meet the King alone, perhaps with his daughter; but, instead, we saw him sitting at the head of a table, round which a hundred male guests were also seated, to whom a sumptuous feast was evidently about to be served. Five vacant seats, two on one, and three on the other side of the King, were empty, and to these, all travel-stained and grimy from the fight in the cave, we were conducted.
"Men of Ramos, we meet more happily than we parted. Welcome to our morning feast. Eat and refresh yourselves, and having done so we may then speak together," said the King, bowing and smiling graciously.
We each kept silence, but acknowledged the old King's cordial greeting with a respectful bow. Then the meal commenced, and was continued in solemn silence, course after course, until the last dishes had been removed, and huge bowls of wine-like liquid had been placed upon the table. Now the attendants withdrew, and shortly afterwards, from some hidden chamber, strains of sweet ravishing music poured in subtle cadence, and women's voices were heard singing a dreamy madrigal. Then came a solo in a woman's voice, more entrancingly beautiful than all the rest, rising and falling in matchless compass—a song that had for its theme the birth and trials and triumph of Love. Was this last sweet, hidden singer Volinè? And did she sing the story of her own tender passion? One of us at least was certain that the voice he heard was that of his beloved, and the words that wandered through the banquet-hall, like a hymn from Paradise, were addressed to him. Stirred to his soul's depth's, he listened, entranced, with throbbing pulses, to the message that was sung to him by a woman who was fashioned fairer than the cunningest conception of earthly man could picture!
At last the music ceased, the singer's voice was hushed, and amidst a death-like silence, which held the assembled guests in thrall, the King addressed us:
"Strangers from the star-world Ramos, having now broken your fast, it is my duty, here in the presence of my faithful Ministers of State, to explain to ye the reason of your welcome here as free men and honoured guests. All the terrible indictment against ye, with the exception of the killing of Osa, hath been proved to be false! I am satisfied that my daughter's honour and fair fame are as untarnished now as before ye came to Edos, and that a noble of our Court, by name Perodii, hath lied. The High Priest, Echri, hath also spoken favourably of ye, and your cause hath been ably pleaded by the wise men that dwell in our good city Helmath. My philosophers are learned in the science of the heavens, and they have said that the wondrous tale ye tell bears stamp of truth, and none of sorcery. That being so, we grant our royal pardon for the slaying of our subject Osa, believing that, as ye have already said, he brought his fate upon himself, and in expressing our sorrow for the great misery and hardships we have caused ye, we welcome ye as friends and brothers, and bid you remain in Edos as our guests so long as ye may have the wish. We regret we did not heed the words of the men of Helmath sooner, but Perodii's cunning made us ignore their counsel—and nought can kindle a father's wrath so readily, or feed its flame so well and warp his judgment, as the dishonour of his child. Perodii's guilt was only proved to me at yesternight; hence his treatment of ye. He now is deep in our displeasure, and his seat at our royal board is empty. Ye need fear him no more. Our heralds shall proclaim your pardon, and your entrance into royal favour, throughout all Edos, and then may ye wander in safety at your will."
"My comrades and myself rejoice heartily at the words you have spoken, O King of Gathma," said the Doctor. "Let peace and unity prevail between us, so that we may labour for the common weal of the children of your world and of ours. Glorious possibilities are before us; and that the intercourse between the peoples of two sister-planets, when once fairly established, may bring forth nothing but good, I feel sure will be echoed as heartily by your majesty and your people as by my companions and myself. We thank you, King of Gathma, for your clemency, and for the friendly sentiments you have just expressed, and will do our best ever to merit your friendship, your protection, and your hospitality!"
The Doctor's words were received with a salvo of applause from the brilliant gathering around us, and shortly afterwards the King left his seat, saying as he retired, followed by his Court, that he would meet us again in a few hours, after the business of State was over.
As soon as the King and his ministers had gone, servants arrived and conducted us to a suite of luxuriously fitted baths, where we made ourselves more presentable. Fortunately, each had donned an entirely new outfit before we deserted theSirius, so that our task was by no means a difficult one. We were discussing our altered fortunes, after completing our toilet, when a marshal entered and, walking up to Graham, said with a low bow:
"Art thou Harry Graham?"
"I am; what is your pleasure?" he answered.
"Then Volinè would see thee. Follow me, and I will show thee to my mistress."
"Go and enjoy your well-deserved happiness," said Temple, in English; but the Doctor muttered something by no means complimentary to Volinè. Graham was too full of joy to feel angry with his old and eccentric friend, and thanking Temple for his good wishes, turned and followed his conductor. Once more he must furnish this portion of our narrative himself:—
"Leaving the saloon of baths, I followed my stately guide along a wide corridor, on either side of which was ranged statuary of priceless value, until we came to the wide staircase up which we had passed on our way to the banquet-chamber. Through an archway at the foot of this, I knew the way led to Volinè's apartments. At the bottom of this spacious stairway we met two of Volinè's maids, and here the marshal bowed and left me. These maidens then stepped forward, and each taking one of my hands, they bade me come with them, and so I was led into Volinè's presence.
"I found my darling in a magnificent chamber, where every luxury that art and ingenuity could devise assisted in making the whole harmonious and splendid. She was reclining on a low couch, draped with rich dark furs of silky softness, her flossy hair falling all free and unrestrained around her bust and shoulders, one shapely arm resting along the back of the couch, the other pillowing her lovely head. What incarnation of female beauty! was my single thought as I beheld her there in all her splendour; and for a moment I stood upon the threshold of her room, spell-bound between my maiden guides, dazzled and bewildered by the vision of perfectness before me. With a smile for which any man would cheerfully have sold his soul, she rose into a sitting posture, saying:
"'Cyni, thou and thy sister may now leave.'
"Neither of us spoke nor moved further until the two maids had gone, leaving me standing as in a dream, watching the sweet picture before me. Then Volinè rose to her feet, and with smiles and blushes lending an added charm to her countenance, came towards me, murmuring my name! The spell was broken; and oblivious to aught else, I ran forward and clasped her in my arms again.
"'Oh, Volinè, Volinè! my darling; this is rapture indeed. How good of you to send for me thus!'
"'Happy do I feel to have thee with me again,' she answered, as her head sank nestling on my breast.
"We kissed each other's lips, and together we drank the cup of our joy to the dregs in one long, intoxicating draught, without a single drop of bitterness to taint its sweetness.
"But why dwell on the ecstasy of our embrace and of our meeting, after so much terrible sorrow? I led her unresistingly to the couch she had so lately left, arranged the fallen furs around her, and sat me down by her side. There, with one arm around her waist, and with my eyes feasting upon the beauty of her face and form, we conversed of all that had befallen us since last we talked together and parted in the garden Siccoth, on that dreadful night before Remagaloth. We talked those lovers' trifles, so sweet and apt when spoken, yet so cold and passionless and uninteresting when read by others unconcerned.
"Then Volinè told me of all that had happened on the night we parted, as we thought for ever. How all her efforts were in vain; how she had visited Echri and been comforted in her despair; how he had promised to intercede with the King. How he came too late; and how she spent the time that we were at Remagaloth praying fervently for our salvation. She told me of her joy when the news of our wondrous escape was brought to Edos; of Echri's visit to the King; and of how the high and mighty priest had exerted his power, and delivered us from an unrighteous doom!
"'Daily since then, dear Harry,' she told me amidst sobs and smiles, 'have I pleaded thy cause with my father; beseeching him to spare thee and thy companions; to discredit Perodii's words, and to lend ear to the utterances of the great and good Echri, and the men of Helmath. I besought him to let ye go your way in peace, and not to cherish feelings of revenge and hatred unworthy of a mighty king. But all I could say availed me nothing definite. He felt keenly the disgrace and humiliation in the Hall of Justice, and his heart was still hardened towards ye, although I could perceive his mind was wavering, until driven to desperation I told my father the naked truth.'
"'And what may that truth have been, darling?' I whispered, seeing her hesitate, with heart beating fast within me, and with the long-cherished hope that she had told the King of her love for me, and that royal favour had smiled upon my suit.
"'Dost thou press me to answer, Harry?'
"'Indeed I do, my bonny one.'
"'But, mayhap, my words will cause thee pain!'
"'Not more than the suspense and anxiety I now suffer, until I hear them, sweet one,' I answered, with faltering hope, dreading, yet eager to hear her reply.
"'Then hearken to my words, and interrupt me not until I have told thee all. I doubt me not that thou hast remembrance of Perodii's conduct in Siccoth, and of the lying words he then did speak. From that night, until the day of thy trial and sentence, he used his knowledge of our stolen interview as a power of evil and annoyance against me. His threats to make my honour the common gossip of the streets of Edos bound my tongue to silence, for we women of Gathma dread to have our fame tossed to and fro upon the breath of scandal. And so he forced his unwelcome attentions upon me. I bore them, Harry, for thy sake; for he gave me solemn assurance that my meeting with thee should be told to no man, and that he would seek to save thee!'
'Darling! by the——'
"'Nay, interrupt me not, Harry,' she continued, placing a finger on my lips. 'Thou knowest how he broke faith with me, and lied before my father and a hundred thousand dwellers of Edos, and what woe his words have wrought. He lied because his passion found no favour in my sight, and because the King seemed in clement mood towards ye; and well dost thou know the evil of his words. I told thee of my father's wrath, and how he heard me without relenting, when last I met thee in the garden. After thy trial and sentence, Perodii sought by threats to make me yield unto his wish, and mate with him, but rather would I spill mine own blood than be his wife. He even dared to attack me yet a second time, on the night of thy escape from Remagaloth, and by cunning artifice entered my chamber, where I prayed for thee! Cyni, by great good fortune, chanced to be with me——'
"'By the living God, Volinè, Perodii shall answer to me for this,' I said, in a voice that echoed the anger and hatred burning in my soul.
"'Hush! and hear me on. I have but little else to tell thee. Seeing that he had been witnessed by Cyni he sped away, telling me that he was starting from Edos that night to take thee prisoner again, and carry out himself the sentence that had been pronounced upon thee. I held my peace, hoping that some evil might overtake this Perodii in his search, and praying that his quest might be vain; until I heard from a hunter noble, by name Kios, that ye had struggled valiantly near Helmath, yet had been overcome, and were being carried back to Edos. Then I told my father all, and proved my words by good Cyni's aid. Great was his wrath at the manner in which Perodii had duped him, and quickly did he take steps to protect and befriend ye, as ye have already seen.'
"'But why not have told your father all this long ago, darling?'
"'My father hath many cares, and much business of State to do, and I did not like to add to his troubles.'
"'But this Perodii; what punishment will be meted out to him? Surely, he merits death for so insulting the daughter of his King.'
"'Harry, our laws are not thy laws; our customs in Gathma are not like those in Ramos—Earth, as it is called by thee. Know thee, that even the King hath no power to put to death a noble of Perodii's rank. He can but depose him from Court——'
"'But Kios, whom we met near the city of Pamax, told us that for some offence he had been condemned to die, and only saved his life through the clemency of the King.'
"'Ah! I also heard yesterday from worthy Kios of your stay with him in the woods of Theloth, and wish him well. But Kios was not of such noble rank as Perodii, who in station is next to the King.'
"'That shall not prevent his reckoning with me, Volinè. The day shall yet come when I will make him confess as publicly that his words were lies, as when he spoke them in your father's Judgment Hall.'
"'Heed him not, O Harry; let him go his own evil way. Cross not his path a second time, or he may do thee harm, and I——'
"'Should what, dear one?' I asked as I kissed her forehead.
"'Should never cease to grieve for thee; she answered, nestling closer to me, and gazing into my face with her splendid eyes.
"'But I have no fear of such a coward as he; and by the customs of the Earth I long have left, I swear he shall answer for his added insults on you.'
"'Harry, Harry, dost thou not care for me enough to obey me? Thou dost! Then let Perodii rest in the deep disgrace into which he hath already fallen. By the customs of Edos, methinks no greater punishment could be given him. And now thou must leave me.'
"'But when may I see you again, darling? To-night? Yes, say to-night, and in the garden Siccoth, by the arbour where you first met me.'
"'Well, thou hast my promise. Now haste thee to thy comrades, for the hour hath arrived when my maids do come to me.'
"'May the hour soon come, my darling, when we shall never have to part again,' I said to her, unable longer to control my feelings.
"'What meanest thou?'
"'I will tell you, my precious one, in Siccoth's arbour, where, at sunset, I shall wait in weariness until you come,' I answered, as I kissed her again and again, before tearing myself away from her white, encircling arms.
"Once more three blasts were blown by Volinè upon that golden whistle, and almost immediately Cyni and her sister entered, and conducted me to the foot of the staircase, where I found the marshal waiting to escort me back to my companions.
"I found them in one of the smaller rooms of the Palace, happy enough, and full of what they had been doing during the morning that I had spent with Volinè. Temple had been amusing himself in wandering from room to room of this wonderful Palace, passing his time in admiring the costly and beautiful works which adorned its interior; all of them new and strange, and like nothing to be found in the palaces of Earth. The Doctor and Sandy had walked abroad into the streets and squares of Edos, and were full of the curious scenes and customs they had witnessed, and the strange types of architecture they had seen. Everywhere they had been treated with respect, although much curiosity was excited by their appearance and movements."
"I was just telling Temple that Edos would scarcely suit a man of his commercial instincts," remarked the Doctor to Graham as he entered the room. The Doctor had quite recovered his good temper, and the walk abroad had put him in the best of spirits. "What do you think of a city where there are no shops, nor marts of business? Edos is a centre of luxury—a dwelling-place of the noble and those of high degree. None of its inhabitants toil or trade therein. It is an ideal city; smokeless, noiseless—a repository for the best and brightest results of the brain and genius of a world, and a gathering-place for its cultured people," continued the Doctor, led away by his enthusiasm. "I want a hundred hands, Graham, to chronicle all I have seen. My one regret is that my life will not be long enough to do justice to this glorious world, or to describe its endless wonders."
And so the afternoon slipped away in pleasant, entertaining chat, varied by a light meal, which was served to usal frescoby two of the Palace servants. In the early evening the Doctor, Temple, and Graham dined with the King—another sumptuous feast, at which the old monarch made himself especially agreeable, and never seemed to tire of hearing us recount our journey across the heavens, and tell of the world we had left. Curiously enough, no ladies were numbered among the guests; but this and the morning feast, we learned afterwards, were State banquets, at which it is not etiquette for females to appear. Graham—unknown, of course, to all the rest—chafed exceedingly under the long and almost endless interrogations of the King; for he thought of the tryst he had to keep with Volinè. Already the sun was sinking low in the western sky; and he was all impatience to hasten away. At last the meal was finished, and the brilliant gathering of nobles and ministers rose from the table, and separated into groups to carry on a friendly conversation. In the confusion Graham managed to slip away unobserved, but took Temple into his confidence before doing so, who promised to make excuses for him, if his absence chanced to be noticed by the King.
"I left the banquet-hall just as the King and the Doctor were eagerly engaged in a discussion upon the civilised forms of government on Earth, slipping out unperceived, and hurrying along the corridor towards the staircase that led down to a lower corridor, to which I knew there was an entrance to the garden of Siccoth-trees. I was just about to open this door, stooping down to examine the fastening thereof, when the hated voice of my rival, Perodii, hissed into my ear the following words:
"'Spawn of evil, we meet again! How often more art thou going to cross my path and live? Beware, or by my eternal soul I will slay thee even here.'
"'Prince Perodii, I desire to have no further intercourse with you, and I waste precious time in answering your vulgar words.'
"'So, so; that wanton wench, Volinè, waits thee. My curse upon her for meddling——'
"Perodii never finished his sentence, for without thinking of the consequences of my act, and forgetting in my passion what I had promised Volinè, I gave the Prince a stunning blow full in the face with my clenched hand, and sent him reeling to the ground.
"'Take that; and may it teach you better manners,' I said, as I delivered the blow straight from my shoulder. 'And, hark you,' I continued, as he lay half-stunned upon the mosaic floor, 'if you ever dare to speak one more insulting word in my hearing, about the woman I love, may your worthless blood be upon your own head, for I will slay you as I would a brute beast.'
"The Prince by this time had recovered his feet, and stood mad with pain and rage, half blinded by the blow I had dealt him, and unsheathing the long knife that dangled in a jewelled scabbard from his waist. What the end would have been it is difficult to conjecture, but at that moment our good friend Himos came along with a posse of troops, at sight of whom Perodii sheathed his weapon and walked away, saying as he did so:
"'The hour of my revenge is yet again delayed; but I will wait, aye, wait for centuries yet to come, if need be, and wipe out all thy insults in thy blood.'
"Nodding to Himos, I sped through the doorway into the garden, and hurried along between the rows of curious shrubs and flowers towards the arbour where Volinè had promised to meet me. Already the sun was dipping behind the distant hills, and I feared that my darling might have come, and not finding me there, had gone away again.
"The arbour was empty, and just as I saw it on that fateful night that seemed already sunless ages gone. I sat me down on the seat where we had embraced; then I walked to and fro along the path that her dear feet had trod, scarcely able to control my impatience as the day fell slowly into night and Volinè came not. Had harm befallen her? Then terrible thoughts of Perodii's mad vengeance floated through my brain, and I cursed myself for not killing him outright, and thus preventing him from working her evil. At last my ear caught footsteps sounding on the pathway, clearer and clearer in the still evening air. Then she for whom I waited came from out of the shadows towards me, and in another moment my sorrow was changed to joy as I folded her in my arms.
"'I fear I have kept thee waiting, but a disturbance in the Palace has caused me delay. Perodii hath lodged complaint against thee for striking him without cause, and my father is annoyed and angry that such a vulgar fray should have taken place under his roof. Perodii now hath no business within our royal house, and my father refused to hear more of his words. Harry, why didst thou not keep thy promise to me, and leave this man alone?'
"'Volinè, he is a coward and a liar. He alone is in the wrong, and thrust himself upon me as I came hither. He insulted you, and I struck him to the ground in my passion; but I am sorry now, for I have offended you. But pardon and forgive me, dear one, and let nothing come to mar our happiness. I will see the King anon, and tell him the simple truth. Come! kiss me, and make me happy again.'
"'Thou dost not deserve it, Harry; but there—' and as she kissed me she continued, 'And now heed my wishes better in future, or my forgiveness will be more slowly given, I promise thee.'
"And so this little cloud above our happiness drifted away, and we enjoyed all the sweets of each other's company to the full. I was determined now, to-night, to ask Volinè to be my wife. In spite of our differences of race, and inequality of rank and station, I resolved to tell her of my passion, and to hear my fate.
"'Volinè,' I whispered, as I drew her gently and yet closer to me—'Volinè, do you not know that I love you more passionately than ever mortal man has loved before? Do you not know that you have brought brightness into my life, and have taken that place in my heart which only one woman can ever fill?'
"'But wilt thou always love me so?'
"'Always, darling; always—until the race of my life is run, and all power of loving is stayed by the hand of death. Here, in this arbour, I swear it. By my home world yonder, and all that I hold dear thereon—see you, glimmering as a star above the tree-crests in the southern sky—I pledge to love and to worship you, Volinè, so long as I have life to love, and breath to speak it. Volinè, you are all in all to me; my first love and my last. Without you, life is but another name for pain; with you, bright and radiant joy for ever. I am yours, and you are mine. Volinè, be my wife. Crown my happiness to-night by saying "Yes."'
"'Stay, Harry; thy last words have brought a strange and unknown pain to my heart, and revealed the misery that is now before me whichever way I answer thee. Harry, the sweets of wifehood with thee are a joy which I may never hope to reach. There is one barrier that must ever stand between us, which maketh impossible a union between a son of thy world and a daughter of mine. It hath been so ordained, and therefore we cannot alter it to meet our will. This barrier of which I speak is the span of life. Here, as thou knowest there are old men amongst us who have seen five hundred summers whiten into winter. Four hundred years are the men of Gathma's usual span, even as thou hast told me but seventy are the limit of the men of Earth and thine. I am but five and twenty summers—comparatively in childhood, yet—and for fifty summers more I shall enjoy the sweets of youth. Thou art in the middle of thy tiny course, and in a few more years will reach the close of thy allotted span. Think then of my time of endless widowhood, sadly mourning for thee; yearning for the love I tasted, only to lose. Were I to wife with thee, my short happiness would ever be clouded by its early end! It must not, cannot be!'
"'Volinè, your words blot out all brightness from my heart, which now feels turned to stone. All now is dismal woe again—woe without a ray of hope, and there is naught but death before me to free me from my pain. Without you I cannot, will not, live, for life would be but a living death of dark despair. Is there no hope for me? No hope, Volinè dearest? Am I but to review this promised land of happiness from afar off, only to turn my face away from its green pastures for ever? Ah, no, it is too horrible!'
"'My poor Harry, it is as hard for me as for thee; for I love thee as a woman only loves when she doth love, that is with all her soul. No hope can lighten our darkness or leaven our sorrow. Yet, stay! There is one way—one only; but, alas! it is all too terrible—too terrible to speak.' And here she burst into a passionate fit of sobbing, and clung tightly to me, stricken down with grief.
"I soothed her as best I could, and dried her hot tears with my own parched lips, sighs of agony meanwhile breaking unbidden from my own heart, and big beads of sweat rolling off my forehead like drops of molten pain.
"'Speak, my darling, speak unto me,' I implored. 'Give words unto your thoughts, and let me know and share them. Volinè, speak? or my heart will burst with its heavy weight of woe.'
"Then, mingled with her sobs and moans of anguish, she spoke to me thus:
"'Harry, thou canst purchase happiness, but the price thou wilt have to pay is as costly as it is terrible! I have heard that Holy Echri hath the power of prolonging life, of endowing mortal man with forces that rejuvenate. The ordeal is awful. It is one of fire! To him who would so prolong or purchase life, the penalty is that he shall suffer all the horrors of death by fire. I know not the secrets of the mystic rite; but I will question Echri on the morrow. Doth it not seem unholy? And yet; and—yet—love—is—sweet——'
"'Volinè, your words bring new hope to my heart. If Echri possesses this wondrous power, then will I prove my love for you in his fires. His furnace shall but burn the dross of my love away, but refine it into a yet purer passion!'
"'Oh, Harry; how brave and how noble thou art! Thy calmness gives me confidence. If thou hast will and courage to pass through this fire for me, then surely shalt thou be rewarded by calling me thine own—that is, provided my father hath no obstacle to urge against our union. But, brave one, the hour is already late, and we must return. Meet me here to-morrow even, at setting sun, and I will bring thee news from Echri. Until then, adieu.'