JACK was so much dazed by what he had seen and heard that he could find nothing to say to Lamara, or to Aunion either. The slope from the amphitheater led down to the beach, where a boat was in waiting. Lamara, who had been conversing apart with Aunion, now addressed Jack.
“I must leave you in Argon’s care. We shall soon meet again. We, no more than you, know what is to come. We cannot promise that what you wish will come to pass; but we sometimes live to be thankful for hopes unfulfilled. The spirit always gives us what we need. You have friends; have patience!”
The ominous purport which Jack was prone to put upon her words was somewhat counteracted by the smile which accompanied the touch of her finger-tips in farewell. She and her minister boarded the craft, and Jack and Argon were alone.
“I don’t know that I shall ever be wise enough to comprehend all this,” Jack remarked; “but I shall never be quite the same fool that I was before. I feel, without knowing why, that what seemed cruel in your speech was love and mercy. As for Lamara, she lives and speaks in a world and a language beyond me. And yet I believe that something in me deeper than my mind understands her. Perhaps I’ve never known myself, and that is why I know nothing.”
“The best generally comes last,” said Argon. “I’ve lived twenty times as long as you, but what small light I have comes from others, and with difficulty. What I said to-day was born of the thinking of men wiser and better than I shall ever be. What I wanted was to take that poor child in my arms and comfort her. But, thanks to the spirit, and to Lamara, and to the societies, I was able to rise to a higher love of her than that!” “What will Zarga do?” Jack inquired.
“I think the shock she got from that sapphire charm of yours began a vital alteration in her, which events happening afterward confirmed and gave direction to,” said his friend. “She had been in a morbid state. I doubt if she really cared for you—in that way—at all. Your adventure in coming here stirred her imagination, and the impulse of rivalry with Miriam roused her vanity and ambition. Then, no doubt, Torpeon led her on. Probably, too, some indiscretions on your part and Miriam’s helped the conspirators. But nothing irrevocable, so far as I know, has happened yet.”
Having none of the vanity of amorous conquest, Jack was relieved to learn that Zarga’s infatuation might be unsubstantial. But he returned to his question.
“No one can foretell her plans,” was Argon’s answer. “But I’m sure she’ll never be content with anything less than trying her utmost to undo the mischief she has done. And in spite of her light manner, she really is a girl of remarkable qualities. Lamara, as you heard, gives her her full confidence and unrestricted liberty. I dare say she is at work already. For that matter, there’s no time to lose; and we must realize that the situation is serious. Torpeon will go all lengths!”
“I hope I needn’t tell you that I had sense enough to understand from what Lamara said to-day, that forgiveness of the enemy is not only your belief, but your practise. That implies that I ought to forgive Torpeon. But if evil be our only enemy, then it is his as well as mine; and if I can take a hand in preventing the evil he intends, I shall be doing him a friendly service. Of course, it won’t be easy to bear in mind the distinction between his evil and himself; but I’ll promise to try my best! I won’t try to kill him; I’ll go no further than to use every means possible to get Miriam away from him; and then, if he puts his evil away, I’ll forgive him with all my heart! It seems to me Lamara herself shouldn’t ask more! And I don’t see that I can ask less.”
The candor of this plea tempted Argon to smile; but he put a hand affectionately on Jack’s shoulder and replied: “I agree with you!”
“That’s a comfort!” rejoined the other. “Now, as it seems plain I can do nothing here, can’t you give me a lift over to Tor?”
“That is not for me to decide,” Argon answered. “I know only in part the present state of things; but I know that several forces are working together in behalf of Miriam and you. They are powerful forces; humanly speaking, they could hardly be more so. On the other hand, Torpeon is putting forth his whole strength, which is very formidable, and no scruples will restrain him. But neither you nor I know the plan of campaign on either side; so that if we were to break in on our own account, we might happen to do more harm than good. Just as a parallel example, suppose Miriam had carried out that experiment a while ago!”
Jack reddened. “A woman in extremity has a right to the protection of death.”
“That lies between her and the spirit,” said Argon.
“May not the spirit work through me?”
Argon was silent.
“I don’t know what other plans there may be,” Jack resumed. “My plan is to be with her, to save her if I can; if not, to die with her. Who else is so much concerned as I?”
He was speaking with the utmost energy, but with self-control. Argon was conscious of an increase of moral stature in him; he felt the contagion of his mood and the justice of his argument. But yonder swung the red planet, beyond the reach of either of them. The young Saturnian had no power at his personal disposal to bridge the distance. Such adventures could be undertaken only by cooperation of larger means. He recalled Lamara’s words at parting, “The spirit gives us what we need!” With all his heart, at that moment, he shared his friend’s longing for light and aid.
They were standing but a few rods from the entrance of the amphitheater. Argon, whose eyes were turned in that direction, saw some one emerge from the portal who did not at once move toward them, or seem to be aware of their propinquity. He appeared to be contemplating the great structure, and thoughtfully estimating its architectural qualities and proportions. He rested a hand upon one of the huge pillars of the entrance, and examined a design wrought upon it by the unknown artist who had taken part in the erection of the only building in Saturn which was permanent. Argon himself had often studied this design, executed in low relief and representing a flowering rose-bush growing out of a skull. The stranger traced the outlines with his finger. Argon had never fathomed the meaning of the symbol, which belonged to an era removed immeasurably from the present. Who could this stranger be who interested himself in Saturnian problems of archeology? He was not a Saturnian; his dress was unfamiliar, and he bore the insignia of none of the great societies.
The man now turned his face seaward, and perceived the others. He made a courteous gesture of salutation, but remained where he was. Jack, who now observed him for the first time, was seize with an unaccountable curiosity or interest. The aspect of the unknown was so cordial and inviting that the two youths were insensibly drawn toward him.
He was of commanding stature, with a light and lofty carriage of head and shoulders, and a grace of posture and movement which indicated the vigor of manhood in its prime. He wore an undergarment of a lustrous tissue woven of gold and white threads, reaching half-way down his thigh, and a short, white cloak with a deep-violet hem. Sandals were on his feet; his head was uncovered, except by the wavy curls of his yellow hair. The smile in his eyes stirred also the corners of his lips, and his whole countenance conveyed an impression of good fellowship, intelligence, and effectiveness such as made impossibilities seem easy and discouragement absurd. Life, in his companionship, would be uninterrupted achievement and delight; and this was so obvious at the first glance that he immediately wore the guise of a tried and familiar friend, though neither Jack nor Argon could recall having ever before seen him.
“You have an admirable building here,” he remarked, “and I’m glad to see it is still in use. It belongs to a date when the earth and man used to work together in a way rather different from now. You have made improvements since then, and yet some interesting secrets have been forgotten. This carving now—can either of you young men explain its use and significance?”
He looked from one to another with an expression so bright and pregnant as to have the effect of an overflowing fountain of wisdom, ready to irrigate and render fruitful all the world’s deserts of ignorance. Jack offered no reply, though he was possessed by the conviction that he and this wonderful stranger could not have met for no purpose, so profoundly intimate and kindly was his regard, and so great withal was his moral and intellectual ascendancy. He was a king of men, but democratic and simple as a boon comrade.
“I have puzzled over it many times,” Argon answered; “but neither I nor our wise ones could solve it. The secret was lost, as you say, many thousands of lives ago.”
“Nothing truly done or thought is ever lost, however,” rejoined the stranger. “The secret waits in its place till the need for it returns. As for this particular enigma, I happened to know the sculptor who wrought it well; and he and I helped each other in turn to place this section of the shaft. Apparently it’s never been opened since!”
“You!” exclaimed Argon in a reverential tone. “You are an immortal, then!”
The other glanced up with a laugh. “Why, so are we all! But I’m one of the travelers. When I was a little fellow I used to stare up in the sky at night, and tell myself that some time I’d visit those bright places up there and make friends with the folks that lived in them. Well, there are a good many of them, and I’m still in the early stages of my journey; but there are persons worth knowing in all of them, and my circle of friends is enlarging! One of these days, if you like,” he added, turning to Jack, “I’ll take you about a little and introduce you. But as to this design: it stands, of course, for a word in the universal language, but you would probably be more interested in seeing the thing that it covers. Let’s try if these old joints and hinges are still in working order.”
The pillar was a massive monolith, of a diameter twice the height of a man. He laid hold of it, seizing it in both arms, and put forth his strength to drag it toward the left. The broad muscles of his chest and arms rounded out under the skin, but for a moment the column did not yield. Jack was about to offer his aid, though the enterprise seemed utterly impossible; but just then the great shaft started, and slid smoothly and noiselessly on its base, disclosing an aperture in the plinth below. The whole column had been swung aside.
The stranger stepped back, turning a pleased smile upon the onlookers, like a boy successful in a feat of strength or skill.
“We were pretty fair workmen in those days,” he observed; “our rule and square were true! Now, what do you say—shall we have a look inside?”
Jack started forward, his heart on fire with anticipation of some good event, he knew not what. Argon followed. In the cavity of the plinth there was the shining of a box finely wrought in gold; it was covered with work in high relief, but of what design could not be discerned in the obscurity of the receptacle. The stranger grasped the box by the corners and lifted it out into the clear daylight.
It was foursquare, about a cubit in height, and half as much on the side. The lid was pyramidal, with a winged figure on the apex. The entire surface of the object was carved over with a representation of a clambering rose-vine, amid the interstices of which were numerous little golden skeletons, some of them caught in the snare, other forcing their way actively between the branches. There was enough conventionalism in the treatment to preserve its dignity. The effect was grotesque, but grave.
The stranger now turned back the lid on its hinge, revealing a tall beaker, with panels of clear crystal set in gold and enriched with precious stones. He took it out of the box and set it down on a corner of the plinth. It bore a cover, and was half filled with some transparent liquid which sparkled like melted diamonds.
“There is a draft which few living men would venture to swallow,” the stranger remarked with an enigmatic smile. “The recipe for its making has been sought by many since then, but was never recovered. It is said to possess the property of enabling the drinker to win the desire of his heart; but if there be any doubt or falsehood in him, it will destroy him forever. Would you care to taste of it?”
His eyes were upon Jack as he spoke. There was a challenge in them, and yet warning. As Jack met the look, he knew who the stranger was. Solarion was come to offer him all he loved and longed for in life, but at the risk, should he prove unworthy, of death. It was the choice which, in some form, is submitted to every human creature at some epoch in his career. Jack laid a hand on the handle of the beaker, but paused.
“There’s no doubt in me of my love for her,” he said, addressing this mysterious messenger with a certain stateliness of manner not customary with him, but befitting the solemnity of the occasion. “But I’m a man, and no angel. There are things I’ve thought and done which I wish had been otherwise. Tell me this: if I fail, what will become of her?”
“I cannot answer,” replied Solarion. “But God deals with us all alike.”
Jack turned the words over in his mind. “I’m content!” he said at length.
He uncovered the beaker, from which rose immediately a marvelous fragrance that dispensed itself in the air about them. He had a glimpse of the troubled face of Argon, and exchanged a mute farewell with him.
The last thing he saw was Solarion, who stood in a meditative posture, one hand resting on the golden box, and his eyes fixed unswervingly upon him. Then, with the image of Miriam filling his soul, he raised the cup to his lips and drank.
TORPEON, after receiving the signal that Miriam wished to speak with him, was on his way down the main staircase of the castle when he met a servant hurrying in the opposite direction. The man, at the sight of him, stopped and made his obeisance. He was panting and evidently frightened.
“Well,” said Torpeon, with a note of stern interrogation.
“Gracious prince,” faltered the man, “it has fallen into the river!”
Torpeon was silent for a moment, frowning upon the messenger. “What is this?”
“No. 19, Supreme One! The bank fell in and the laboratory went with it!”
It may be observed that the castle stood on a high point of ground on the broad delta between the two largest rivers that emptied into the Bitter Sea. On streets radiating from it were the houses of the capital city of Tor; they were of uniform design and moderate size; each enclosed a central court, in which the inhabitants spent their days and pursued their occupations; the rooms were used for sleeping only. All the dwellings were connected by a system of vibratory transmitters, centering in a receiving-station in the basement of the castle, enabling Torpeon to issue orders to any household or to obtain information of its activities when he pleased. Beyond the circumference of the city proper, which was of no great area, were the laboratories, twenty-seven in number, constructed along the banks of the two rivers, and isolated from the approach of any person not employed in them. They were carefully guarded, and the nature of the industries carried on in them was never allowed to transpire. The precautions taken made any intrusion upon the workers, or interference with their operations, practically impossible. So, at least, Torpeon had believed.
Of these laboratories No. 19 was at this time engaged in an important part of the complicated scheme which Torpeon was prosecuting. Outwardly, it had the aspect of a dome, or hemisphere, of steel, with foundations in the solid rock. Such strength was required, not so much for protection against attack from without, as to secure it against disturbance from the experiments carried on within. Some of these would have shaken to pieces any building of ordinary design and materials.
“You know the penalty for false reports?” said Torpeon quietly.
The man’s teeth chattered. The form of torture referred to was searching enough to deter the most reckless liar. But he stuck to his story.
“It is truth, Mightiness,” he quavered. “The rock was undermined, and—”
“Come with me,” Torpeon interrupted. “Speak to no one. If you are confirmed, I will promote you; if not—” He made a gesture sufficiently explanatory.
He led the way back to his private chamber, postponing for the time his conference with Miriam. A glance at the pentagonal plate as he entered the room was enough to show him that the report had been no flight of imagination. He seated himself at the table and concentrated all his faculties upon the situation.
The indicator for No. 19 was wavering loosely back and forth, and responded to no efforts to extract information. He tested No. 20. After a short interval the sign of attention was received. “Has anything unusual occurred?” he asked, in a tone which he divested of any emotion.
Rapidly and confusedly the message was poured into his ear from the annunciator:
“Assistant on the way with full details. The collapse was sudden and complete. No. 19; also a shock in No. 7 and instruments displaced. Does not appear to be seismic. Sheer cleavage of rock between us and No. 19. Building overset in bed of river. Operators drowned. No explosive sounds. Guards report no one seen in neighborhood. Selections of stations indicates design. Circuit interrupted. Fear further disturbances. No. 5—” There was a break, and then, faintly and agitatedly, “Your presence seems urgent.”
Torpeon rose from the table. He moved a lever, which disconnected the plate and closed the annunciator. His bearing was composed, and he smiled nonchalantly upon the trembling servant who had been standing beside the doorway.
“You were partly correct,” he said adjusting his mantle and taking up a short truncheon from a shelf beside the table. He detached from it a metal ring, stamped with the device of a triangle within a square. “Take this to the captain of the guard—it is your warrant of authority—and tell him to hold a hundred men in readiness. The matter is of slight importance, but we may have to enforce a little discipline. After delivering the order, return here, and keep watch outside this door till I come back. If any one attempts to enter, put him under arrest. If he resists, kill him. Give no information and answer no questions. Have you understood me?”
“Yes, gracious prince!”
Motioning the man to precede him, he closed the door behind them; the messenger hurried away on his errand, and Torpeon departed with a leisurely step down the corridor.
Never before, however, had the Prince of Tor felt such consternation as now. He was being attacked by an enemy who seemed to be cognizant of his plans, and who was able to overcome his precautions and produce inexplicable results. He could not doubt that Lamara must be the unseen power behind the attack, and that she meant to defeat his great enterprise. How she had divined his purpose he could only conjecture; and he was amazed that she had so far departed from traditional Saturnian custom as to undertake offensive operations. He had not counted upon such an innovation, and could not estimate her resources. That they might prove superior to his own seemed not improbable. She had already annulled the painfully devised measures by which he had believed his undertaking could be secretly carried out, and he be beyond reach of pursuit or hindrance before it was discovered.
Nevertheless he would not admit failure. If he were prevented from prosecuting his first plan, there was yet a desperate alternative left. Nor would he surrender Miriam. If the end of all things earthly were to come for him, she would perish with him. And perhaps, with her as a hostage, he might be able to parley with the enemy, and obtain terms which his unaided power was inadequate to secure. But, at best, the outlook was dark.
He left the castle by a private way, and was conveyed by an instantaneous subterranean route to the scene of the disaster to the laboratories. The spectacle was even more sinister than he anticipated.
The volume of water rushing down the river-bed was much greater than ever before, dark in color, and sweeping with it huge masses of drift and wreckage. Whirlpools had been formed at various points, which sucked in and again tossed aloft fragments of buildings and bodies of animals, some human ones among them. The ruins of No. 19 formed a sort of island in the midst of the headlong stream, against which it raged like a snarling wild beast, gnawing at it with its foaming fangs, and ever and anon tearing shreds of it away. The rocky headland on which No. 20 stood had been partly undermined, and the structure was held at a slant, threatening momentarily to subside altogether. Nos. 7 and 5 were out of sight round a bend of the river, but there was no reason to suppose that their plight was better than the others. The long-sought results of Toridian science were brought to naught.
The wild-looking figure of a man appeared round the headland of No. 20, and came running in Torpeon’s direction, tossing up his arms and shouting insanely. He was half naked, bony and hairy, and swung a sling in his hand. On catching sight of Torpeon he halted, and at first turned to flee; but, taking courage, faced about again, and snatching a sharp-cornered stone from his girdle sent it whizzing at the prince from his sling. Torpeon raised the truncheon that he carried, and the stone was deflected from its course and fell harmlessly. The man started to escape, but the truncheon, pointed at him, took the power from his legs, and he fell to the ground.
Torpeon went up to him as he lay groveling, and turned him over with his foot.
“So this is my friend, Krotox!” he said with a low chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to meet with you again so soon!”
“Sublime prince, spare me!” whimpered the creature. “I have done nothing. I will reveal all I know!”
“I should be sorry to give you that trouble,” Torpeon replied. “But I am looking for reports from No. 19; I will send you to hasten them.”
He took up the wriggling wretch by a leg and arm and carried him to the brink of the torrent. Krotox shrieked and chattered like a hyena. The prince swung him to and fro and far out into the turmoil of waters. The current snatched him, and in a moment dashed his head against an abutment of the steel dome. Torpeon watched the dead body drift downward, revolve in an eddy, and pass out of sight.
“Can it be Lamara who uses such instruments?” he muttered. “If this be a mere insurrection of the exiles, there is more hope than I feared.”
He turned and strode away toward No. 20.
JIM ducked his head in a delighted greeting to Miriam and performed a wave of salutation with his crutch. “Dey can’t lose us, miss,” he remarked.
Miriam regarded him with increasing pleasure and cordiality. Here was a creature, absolutely trustworthy and highly intelligent, come to her at a moment when she was most in need of precisely such a person. “Did you come alone?” was her instinctive question.
“Don’t let dat worry yer, miss,” was his reply. “I’s John de Baptis’, hollerin’ in der wilderness; de rest of de bunch mebbe don’ know where deir goin’, but dey’s on de way! We’s goin’ to clean up dis here back yard, an’ den we’ll prepare de chamber for de bridegroom! As fer honeymoon, how’d N’York suit yer? Dere’s more moons ’n honey round dese diggin’s!”
“But what news of Jack? Any message? Is he well?”
“Say, miss; wait till yer lamps him! De boss is fine—he’s out er sight! ’Bout de las’ I seen uv him he was feedin’ his face wid de best roast p’easant ’tween dis an’ Delmonniker’s, an’ washin’ her down wid de right juice, believe me! Sure, he’d a message all fixed up fer yer, pink goods, an’ smellin’ like a Fif’ Av’noo drug-joint; but me, I meets up on a suddint wid dat dere shiny gink—you knows him, de front name uv him is Sol—an’ he stakes me for de trip dat quick I didn’t git no time fer ter grab de billydux. Mebbe yer’ll have it by der reg’lar post!”
Having thus avouched his fitness for diplomatic interludes, Jim cast an approving look around him, and congratulated the lady on the homelike aspect of her surroundings. “Dis here come-an’-go stuff gits my goat,” he observed with feeling, “I dassent go fer to sit on a chair fer fear some guy’ll t’ink it away from me! An’ de scenery dey rings in on yer—say, don’ it swat yer between de peepers? De sky gits too busy wid itself, what wid moons an’ rings an’ truck like dat! No, miss, Broadway was never like dis! An’ de gals—well, not presumin’ ter speak uv yerself, miss, dat Jenny ain’t no half-tone—she’s de stuff!”
After reassuring her visitor as to the stability of her chairs, Miriam seated herself opposite to him, and begged him to disclose his plans.
“Fust off, I’ll put yer wise to meself,” he began, dropping his voice to a confidential undertone. “Dis here Sol geezer, he’s a dead-game sport an’ no come-back; he sizes up what I’s goin’ ag’inst, an’ he dolls me up wid a new suit o’ interplex, an’ manipperlates me ol’ hobble-stick inter a Paggysis an’ de Empire State Limited, an’ I dunno what nex’; but when I needs it, I has it! Wid dis stick in me han’, ol’ Torpy’s got nuttin’ on us, miss, an’ I gives yer dat straight!”
Miriam had already noticed signs of peculiar animation in the crutch, and she lent an interested ear to what was to follow.
“Lissen here, miss,” Jim continued, hitching his chair nearer. “Torpy, he ain’t no back-number, at dat; an’ he fixes up a play dat would beat us sure, on’y fer de Sol outfit an’ anudder t’ing or two. I’s been romancin’ roun’ dis ranch, quiet like, as me nater is, an’ I’m onter his curves. Dere’s just one trouble wid you, miss, speakin’ as frien’s, you’s too much of a good-looker, an’ you sure gits Torpy dat nutty on yer he’d bust up de hull universe sooner’n lose yer; an’ me, I ain’t sayin’ yer ain’t wort’ it!”
“Jim, your compliments are wonderful,” said Miriam; “but please—”
“In course, miss. It’s like dis—Torpy’s figgerin’ to slip de hawser o’ dis here dinky lil moon o’ his, an’ go cavortin’ roun’ de solar system, unhitchin’ all de odder eart’s as he sails by, an’ fetchin’ up at de sun. He changes cars dere—de sun ’d be some too hot fer my tastes, but likely he takes a cooler along—an heads de process’un fer O’Brien’s belt an’ de milky way! A sort o’ Cook’s tour, puss-nel conducted, see? An’ you along, eatin’ ice cream an’ chattin’ sociable like: ‘Gimme a new batch o’ stars ter-morrer, Torpy,’ you says; ‘dis lot is some tarnished, an’ outer fashion, anyway,’ you tells him. ‘Right-o!’ he comes back. Down goes de clutch, an’ ho, fer de boun’-less main! Dat’s Torpy!”
Miriam shook her head and smiled sadly. “I’ve seen something of what magic and do, Jim,” she said; “but I think you have been deceived. After all, there is such a thing as reality!”
“Magic, nuttin’!” retorted Jim; “dis here game is sci’ntific! Torpy’s been coachin’ up on de gravitation stunt; he’s had his sci’nce sharps workin’ overtime dese five years on de job to fix up a counter to it; an’ dey gets de hull t’ing ready ter touch off at sunup ter-morrer! Ain’t I been t’rough de lab’ratories an’ seen ’em at it!”
“If such a thing were possible,” began Miriam. But she reflected that the discussion was unprofitable, whether or not the possibility existed. “What we must think of,” she said, “is whether anything can be done to escape. I have a plan of my own, but only for the last resort.” She hesitated, but resolved to trust the gnome with her secret. “In that room,” she went on, “is an instrument for atomic disintegration, which I have adjusted so that by merely reversing the magnetic field, Tor would be exploded into dust. I tell you this, Jim, because should there be no other hope, and I be unable to reach the machine myself, I should ask you to act in my place!”
Jim eyed her admiringly. “Say, miss, speakin’ o’ game sports, you’s a top-liner! Le’s take a slant at de outfit.” She led the way to the laboratory, and found no difficulty in explaining the mechanism of the machine, Jim, as has been noted, having a natural aptitude for all mechanical contrivances. He handled the magnet with a touch suggestive of the innate longing of the unregenerate small boy to unleash the elements of destruction. But he virtuously mastered the inclination. “She’s a sure-enough peach, miss,” he said, stepping back with a sigh; “but we’s ain’t needin’ her. An’ anudder t’ing, Torpy’s a slob, all right; but he’s up ag’in a stiff game, an’ you’s de stakes he’s playin’ fer; an’ I puts it to you straight, kin yer blame him? Ef he’d got de strangle clutch on yer, it ’ud be all right to pull de gun on him, ’cause we’s bound ter win, anyway; but we’s got him beat, dough he don’t know it yit; an’ what I says is, when he does know it, dat’s punishment enough fer him, an’ we kin let it go at dat! Let him keep his ol’ moon, an’ spen’ his declinin’ years sorrerin’ over de error uv his ways an’ de loss uv all he helt mos’ dear! Say, a’ter I’s had me chin wid him, yer ’ll see him takin’ water like an ol’ boozer de mornin’ a’ter a wet night—d’ yer git me! I’s goin’ ter han’ him some home trut’s—dat’s me! An’ when you an’ me starts our slide fer home-base, yer’ll see Torpy a gazin’ at us in a wild su’mize, like dat dago gink in Cent’al America musin’ on de ruins o’ Cart’age!”
In spite of the radiant self-confidence thus poetically expressed, Miriam could not help feeling a little uneasy. She had no desire to annihilate Torpeon if she might escape on any terms less tragic; but was Jim as well equipped as he imagined for the undertaking? What could he or she know of Torpeon’s resources?
“You spoke of seeing his laboratories,” she said. “What if the work they are doing should be accomplished before we can act? And what prevented Jack, or some of the Saturnians, from coming here with you?”
Jim had no objection to treating facts with the imaginative coloring proper to his temperament, but he recognized the prudence of discrimination in this case. Miriam must not be led to suppose that Jack had neglected her; and yet, if she learned of the complication with Zarga, she might feel some distress.
“Dis here is de age uv splittin’ jobs, miss,” he explained. “Me an’ Sol is tendin’ dis end, an’ de boss an’ de Sattum gang is busy fixin’ up t’ings fer de getaway when we’s t’rough here. De lab-ratories,” he hastened on, “has got deirs befo’ I seen yer. I can’t tell no lies; I chops ’em down wid me lil crutchet, like de fader uv his country! I picks up a bunch o’ bums here an’ dere as I comes roun’, an’ gives ’em de tip to fire de pop’lar heart an’ work a French revolution stunt on Torpy to distrac’ his min’; an’ by the rumpus dey’s raisin’,” he added, breaking off as a noise of tumult made itself audible outside the castle, “I figgers me orders is bein’ obeyed!”
The door opened and Jenny, her pink cheeks streaked with pallor and her eyes round with consternation, ran into the room with a tale of terror:
“Oh, if your please, miss, the mob is broke loose and we’ll all be murthered in our beds! They’ve fetched ladders and torches, for all the world like the history-books, and the garrison is parleying with the ringleaders, and us without our traveling-dresses! Oh, wurra-wurra! Whatever will become of us?”
Miriam was not inaccessible to imaginative fears; but anything like a menace of actual danger restored her composure. She silenced Jenny with a contemptuous gesture and walked to the window.
A disorderly crowd of strange-looking people, constantly increasing in numbers, was collecting in front of the castle. They evidently meant mischief; but Miriam recognized at once that only the treason of those who composed the defenders could involve any immediate peril. She had no reason to doubt that Torpeon was competent to impose order, in any case; and, assuming that he was still in the castle, she expected him to appear. But he was nowhere to be seen. She recalled that she had been expecting him to visit her at the moment when Jim entered. She was now aware, of course, how he had been prevented.
A shower of stones hurled by the mob smashed some windows in the lower part of the castle. The garrison made no counter-demonstration; and there were signs which might indicate that Jenny’s statement about a parley was not all fancy.
Jim, at Miriam’s side, was contemplating the scene with grunts and chuckles of manifest satisfaction. But he did not lose his critical acumen.
“Dese here guys don’t know de ropes,” he remarked. “What’s brickbats an’ hollerin’ in a play like dis? Dinnermite’s de stuff! But I figgers Torpy’s cornered de supply! He’ll show his han’ befor’ long!”
“Will I be after makin’ a rope of the bedclothes to let down the back winder, miss?” suggested Jenny, still palpitating.
“Jim is the captain of the watch,” Miriam replied with a smile.
“We’s neutral, miss, in dis here scrimmage,” Jim informed her, assuming the gravity of a commander. “De more Torpy an’ dat bunch lams de life out o’ each odder, de more us gives ’em de merry ha-ha! When dey gits t’rough, we deals wid de remains; we rides the whirlwin’ an’ direcks de storm! Dere’s one o’ my boys now!” he exclaimed—“dat fat duck wid his pants gone—Asgar—dat’s him! He’s hoopin’ it up to beat de band! What’s gone wrong wid Krotox? Mebbe he’s fell by de wayside!”
“Oh, if Jack were here!” thought Miriam, as a fresh volley of stones crashed against the walls. “No!” she added in the same breath; “thank God he isn’t!”
The next moment she faced about with a violent start and a leap of the heart. Had she heard Jack’s voice speak her name, close to her ear? But no one was there!
She was about to call out his name—to shriek it out; but she silenced it on her lips. Was it not, rather, as if a hand—his hand—touched her mouth in warning? Assuredly he was here. She could not be mistaken in the sense of his neighborhood. Never, even in his more physical presence, had she been more convinced of it. And yet, save for Jim and Jenny, who were absorbed in the scene outside the window, the room was empty. What did this mean?
It was, somehow, different from the physical invisibility of the Saturnians. The influence was not like that; it was a spiritual vibration. Was Jack dead, then?
She felt, on the contrary, that he had never been more alive.
SOLARION caught the crystal cup as it dropped from Jack’s hand, and with his other arm supported his body as it fell. Argon uttered a cry of dismay. But meeting the other’s eyes, which were now filled with a soft but almost insupportable light, he recognized the benign significance behind the apparent calamity.
“We will let the body rest in the plinth,” Solarion said, lifting it as he spoke into the cavity, and replacing the cup and its golden receptacle. “He is honest and brave, all will go well with him. Tell Lamara he stood the test, and that I will meet her here on the hour appointed.”
The light grew brighter and Argon, perforce, closed his eyelids. When he looked again the column of the portal occupied its former position, and he was alone.
Of these things Jack knew nothing.
The reaching out of his spirit toward Miriam, at the moment of swallowing the elixir, had dominated all other thoughts and impulses, and by operation of spiritual law, his immaterial entity, disembarrassed from the physical, at once was swept in her direction. Distances between persons, on the spiritual plane, where nothing operates to delay the inclinations of the mind, are necessarily and immediately determined by sympathies or repulsions, as the case may be, existing between them; and, as the separation from each other of the poles of the sidereal universe hardly suffices to indicate the gulf that yawns between incompatible natures and temperaments, so, between those who love each other, a handbreadth is still too far apart. Nothing else is possible in a sphere where all things live and the inertia of lifeless matter is not.
Jack, accordingly, soon became aware that he was in Miriam’s vicinity; but he was at first perplexed by an unconsidered circumstance of their mutual conditions.
The physical eye is fashioned to perceive material objects only; it is powerless to discern the forms of thoughts or the color of emotions. And in the spiritual plane, emotion and thought constitute, respectively, the substance and the shape of things seen. On the other hand, the spiritual eye is not less unable to have cognizance of material things; and the two worlds are thus effectively disjoined one from the other. Of course, the spirit incarnate is none the less in constant relations with the spirit disincarnate; but both alike are insensible, normally, to that fact.
Jack, during his journey from our earth to Saturn, had already experienced disincarnation; but inasmuch as his environment had then been also spiritual, he had felt no discrepancy between it and himself. Now, however, he, a spirit, was confronted with material surroundings, and must depend on methods of communication more subtle than those of spiritual sight and touch in order to make his presence felt, or himself to establish consciousness of the medium in which he sought to operate.
How was he to bring the world in which he was into practical relations with that which she occupied, since neither could she see nor touch him, nor he, her? This seemed like to prove an awkward obstacle in the way of what he aimed to accomplish.
But must not Solarion have foreseen this difficulty? And would he have deliberately mocked him, through the agency of the elixir, with a useless gift? The idea was preposterous! There must be some way of solving the problem.
He stood motionless, like a man in the darkness of an unfamiliar place, and set himself to the task of withdrawing from his outward sphere of consciousness. He was presently rewarded by the perception of the gradual emergence of an inner consciousness; it was as if the pupils of the eyes of the man in the dark place, slowly expanding, were becoming sensitive to rays of light before unperceived.
A path of communication between the two worlds did, then, exist. It was not normally accessible, because its existence was unsuspected; but when intelligently sought, it might be found. And Jack realized that if it were accessible to him, from his side, it must also be accessible to Miriam from hers. The inner consciousness, in her and in him, was a sort of common ground between them, in which they could meet and have intercourse. It was neither spiritual wholly, nor wholly material, but an intermediate region. Nor was there anything radically strange in this; had he not, in the earthly life, often felt aware of her proximity before his corporeal senses informed him of it, and had he been blindfolded, would not the touch of her hand have exerted an influence distinguishable from the touch of any other? If he were alive to such intuitions, much more should she, with her finer organization, be so.
Greatly encouraged by his discovery, Jack proceeded to put it to the trial.
Without having intelligently traced his course, he had been brought to the suite of rooms which Miriam occupied. They appeared to him in shadowy form, much like the reflection of objects seen in a plate of glass, and not so distant as in a mirror. But as he grew more accustomed to the situation, the distinctness increased.
He was at first puzzled by the similarity of the rooms to those seen on his own earth; and he wondered for a moment whether Miriam could have returned to their planet during the interval of their separation. But a more concentrated scrutiny soon revealed the magical character of the appearance. Whether the magic were black or white he did not pause to determine. Here, at all events, was a laboratory, and he recognized it as the one which he had already seen in Lamara’s water-mirror. It was perhaps because of the intense emotional stress which Miriam had undergone here that he had been first led to it. But she was not here now. He glanced at the apparatus on the table and comprehended the method of its operation. He could even discern the electrons in the atom in their revolution around one another, and form an estimate of the stupendous force which would be liberated by their dissociation. But matters more urgent claimed his attention.
He passed through the doorway into the adjoining chamber; the door had been left ajar, and he was careful to go through the opening, which was somewhat narrow for his bulk, and to keep his feet to the level of the floor. He felt that he could not push the door farther open, and he did not know that he could have passed through the substance of it; it seemed to him proper to observe, so far as possible, the natural limitations amid which he found himself. It aided his recognition of them.
Upon entering the chamber he saw Miriam, with two others, standing near the window. He paid no heed to the others, nor did he see them with nearly the distinctness with which the woman he loved appeared to him. Was it her, or her spirit, that he saw? At moments it seemed to be the one, then the other. From one standpoint, indeed, they were identical. Yet there was a difference; but it was she!
A powerful irradiation of joy streamed forth from him. It was both visible and invisible to Jack himself. As a spiritual emanation, it welled out toward her and enveloped her, so that he fancied she must be aware of it—the roseate glory of it, shot through with golden quiverings. Then, remembering that the natural eye could not discern it, he was surprised to see her move slightly, as if some faint sound or remembered scent had caught her attention. But in a moment she again turned her gaze out of the window.
He approached the group. What—Jim! Undoubtedly it was Jim, but something in the presentation perplexed him—two quite distinguishable Jims, though the same; but one was the grotesque little urchin he knew, the other—he had known nothing of this wonderful brightness, as if the boy were full of light; and surely there were two complete and well-formed legs! That crutch, too; was it a crutch—or was it—what was it? Jim was speaking; it was the familiar street-gamin lingo; but within it, or above it, was another language, which Jack understood with his spiritual hearing, which conveyed beautiful things—affection, loyalty, courage, resource—qualities which the terrestrial Jim would stare even to hear mentioned. Yet they belonged to him as much as did his own patter—far more so, indeed.
The young woman who made the third of the group was manifested but dimly, for Jack had never made Jenny’s acquaintance, and perceived no more than an agreeable something of feminine purport. In truth, it had been with the side-glance only of his mind that he had observed these persons; it was Miriam who filled and overflowed the central scope of his vision. How beautiful and adorable she was! He had loved and adored her previously to the poor extent of his mortal compass; but now he saw loveliness and splendor—an harmonious interfusing of soul and flesh—an illumination of the transient with the deathless—such as made him blush with a kind of divine embarrassment, as if he had no right to such a revelation. Was it possible that a creature so transcendent loved him?
“Miriam, Miriam!” he muttered.
Ah! She had heard him! What a start she gave; and as she turned, the marvelous glory of her aura flashed out and mingled with him. He felt the beating of her heart as if it were his own, and her nerves thrilling in rime with his. She was about to utter his name, but something prompted him to make a gesture of silence. This was not the moment to make known their secret. Gazing at her, he saw the misgiving of his death shudder through her, and spontaneously there surged from him a response so tumultuous with inexhaustible life that she was at once reassured. She did not yet understand, but she knew!
He had learned much concerning his own state and powers in the few moments of his sojourn here, but Miriam’s initiation was almost instantaneous. Love opened all gates and shone through all windows; and her incarnate self took him by the hand and gave him full consciousness on the earthly plane, while retaining his spiritual powers. She, on her side, combined with her natural senses the perception of what was above the natural, and saw him and what belonged to his state as he saw her and hers. Such a fulness of communion was ineffable. Their auras blended and kindled into new exaltations, brimming with speech and vision. The pages of their memories lay open before them as living pictures of the events recorded, to be comprehended at a glance; and words spoken in the spirit conveyed significances which no eloquent volubility of earthly tongues could rival. Nevertheless, this boundless speech, descending from its superior degree into the lower, took on there the outward form of mortal utterances, as the endlessness of productivity is enclosed in the simple seed sown in the soil. Conversing together in what, to earthly ears, would seem the simplest terms, they could impart to each other kingdoms of meanings intelligible to the imperial soul.
He and Miriam now stood side by side at the window, and he found himself able to look freely through her material eyes. The swaying and struggling of the mob and its confused uproar were visible and audible to him. A sorry spectacle! But though immeasurably remote from him, and unimportant, he realized that Miriam was still in the toils of it. And he had come hither to rescue her!
Her thought spoke to him. “Dearest, will you not take me where you are? You are free from earth; why may not I be so, also?” The death of the body, the deliverance of the spirit, and immortality of love unhindered for them! A touch on the instrument in the next room could compass it!”
“La, miss, it’s gone that hot, all of a sudden!” remarked Jenny, pushing back the hair from her moist forehead; “like them July days on the beach last summer! Whatever ails me I don’t know!” She was enveloped in the fervent sphere of the lovers’ hearts.
“Dere he comes! Pipe ol’ Torpy over dere!” cried Jim, pointing excitedly to the outskirts of the crowd. “Good t’ing de boss ain’t here; he’d be runnin’ out and git his nut busted! Don’t yer worry, miss; I’ll pertect yer!”
Jack had been exquisitely sensitive to the temptation which Miriam suggested. One stroke for freedom, and all these crudities and absurdities would pass away from them forever! But the roseate atmosphere that surrounded them chilled and darkened a trifle as the impulse knocked at his heart; and the words of the two unconscious mortals made him pause. What would become of them? Had they not the right to live out their earthly lives to the end? Clear perception came to him, also, on the instant, of the greatness of Jim’s devotion and self-abnegation. He felt humbled before him!
Miriam perused his mind and saw his answer to her plea. She sighed, and fortified herself to postpone paradise. The thought of her father strengthened her.
“Yes, love, we will not slight God’s gift,” was her response. The luminous gold and rose brightened and deepened again, and the delicate filaments were interwoven in a warp and woof of lovely figures, dancing lightly through the aerial fabric, keeping time to the measure of their hearts. They drew nearer.
Contemplating with spiritual sight the scene without, they beheld these bewildered souls groping pitifully in darkness and ignorance, seeking through evil and unknown good. Driven helplessly hither and thither by monstrous spirits of hatred, greed, and terror, they fought and yelled and reeled in blind frenzies, lost to love and sanity.
And yonder loomed Torpeon, a dark shape of wrath and tyranny, like the black twist of a tornado reddened with lightnings. He, too, was driven helpless by accursed powers he knew not, most a slave when he deemed himself most dominant. He struck vengefully to right and left, laughing terribly as his victims tumbled, blasted, at his feet, blind to the souls thus freed who hurtled up unseen to assail him. At times the whole scene assumed the appearance of a writhing mass of poisonous serpents stinging one another to death, and the great serpent in the midst, venom oozing from his bloody jaws, burying his fangs in his own swollen coils. And Jack, an hour since, had longed to add his strength to make this horror yet more horrible! He groaned in humiliation.
“They are our fellow creatures; let us go out and save them!” said Miriam.
“You!” he exclaimed, disturbed. “Remember Torpeon’s mark! I will go!”
She smiled into his eyes. “I no longer fear it, or him; and you cannot prevail alone.”
Jenny and Jim were absorbed in the excitement of the battle. Neither saw Miriam turn from the window and pass out of the room, apparently alone.
ZARGA had met her mistress, alone and unseen, immediately after the breaking up of the high court of justice. The place was on the island, at the spot where the pavilion had stood; but the pavilion was gone, and the island was rocky and barren. The change reflected too clearly to be disregarded the alteration which had been wrought in the girl’s ambitions and hopes. Lamara was standing beside a thorn-tree. The birds and the Nature people had departed. Zarga approached with lagging steps. A spring, which had formerly been the fountain in the inner court, bubbled up from a cavity in the rock and trickled away along a stony channel toward the sea.
“There is no labor more blessed than to bring back beauty and happiness from banishment, and make them bloom and be fragrant again,” Lamara said in a tender voice. “You can do work that will more than make good the mischief; and out of all that might undertake it, I shall entrust it to you.”
“You trust me still?” said the girl. “I don’t trust myself!”
“We learn self-trust by being trusted by others,” Lamara returned. “The welfare of all our people is in your hands. It lies with you, also, to give back happiness to the strangers whom you wronged, and perhaps to save from destruction the planet from which your own ancestors came hither!”
The girl looked frightened and doubtful. “I loved him!” she muttered.
Lamara shook her head. “You were misled by a fantom shaped out of your own vanity and curiosity, by an agent who sought thus to use you for purposes of his own. When your wisdom reawakes you will recognize the trick. Call upon the good and truth that I have always seen in you—I see them now, struggling to be free again!—and you will win a victory that will wipe out your shame and bring you love and honor!”
“What is it I must do?” asked the girl, paling and flushing by turns with the conflict in her heart.
“Your kinsman, Torpeon, applying his deep penetration into the hidden places of nature to ill ends, to satisfy and insane lust for power, has for a long time past used every resource of science to devise a means to unloose the ties that bind his planet to its orbit, and to set out upon a career of universal conquest and dominion. He led himself to believe that he would be able to control its course among other worlds, and to steer it to other systems, and finally to draw in his train such a retinue of subject planets as would empower him to create and control the fate of starry organisms mighty as Orion and the Pleiades.
“His spiritual blindness, which is as great as his insight into material conditions, prevented him from realizing that the laws which hold the stars are only outwardly physical, and that their spiritual causes are beyond human power to originate or modify. Yet power to destroy is given to man; and so far as the first steps of his plan are concerned, he might have succeeded had not agencies been found so humble as not to be suspected which suddenly upset his preparations.
“This reverse took place but yesterday. But Torpeon had reserved a desperate alternative, which he will now seek to put in operations. Rather than surrender to her lawful betrothed husband the woman whom he stole from him, he will violently tear apart his earth, with all its inhabitants, from its moorings, and hurl it headlong and unguided through space to what destiny he cares not; but its speedy annihilation is certain, and may possibly involve others in its ruin. This monstrous crime, unless a power greater than his can avert it, he has the means to perpetrate. That greater power must be wielded by ourselves, and I have chosen you, my trusted and loved companion, to arouse and set it in motion.”
Zarga’s eyes began to sparkle, her bosom rose, and she lifted her body erect. Lamara, steadfastly observing her, continued:
“You have studied with me the constitution of our realm, and know by what methods we can, by united efforts, achieve results beyond the reach of any individual compass, how exalted soever. Our present task is formidable; perhaps none more arduous could be imposed upon us; and every member of every society on our globe must cooperate in it. To insure this result, I now appoint you, Zarga, my ambassador to our people. No function more honorable is in my power to bestow; for, to discharge it involves energy and faithfulness beyond the limits and development of all but few. Ask your own soul whether you shall accept or decline it! It is an opportunity, not a command.”
“Such forgiveness as yours is worthy of the heart that conceived it; I pray the spirit that it may create in me power to fulfil the trust,” said Zarga after a pause. “I see in my soul only ashes; but if you can believe that in may bloom again, I will believe it, too. At least I will spend what life I have in the attempt. What am I to say to the people?”
“Tell them that, at the signal of the ring, which will be visible to all at once, each head is to marshal his society in the supreme Saturnian order. The will of all is to be made one will, in harmony with the recorded will of the spirit. Tell them that the strain will be great, but constancy will prevail. Tell them that the hands of the little children are to be laid, above all, upon the uniting cord; for innocence and love hold the universe together. Let this be done, and Tor shall not be unseated from its place.”
Lamara spoke with solemn emphasis, lifting up her arms and her face, as if addressing not so much Zarga in person as the divine qualities of helpfulness and devotion which were to be exemplified in her. Zarga knelt before her, and the arms slowly descended with the gesture of benediction. There was an interval of silence, and then the girl arose and turned to begin her long pilgrimage. Lamara gazed thoughtfully after her, and smiled to observe that violets and wood anemones unfolded their petals in the path of her footsteps; a thrush broke into song, and one or two of the small Nature people peeped out timidly from crevices of the rock.
That day there was the sound of a voice traveling over Saturn, from east to west and from south to north. None had heard its like before, but its meaning was comprehended by all; and the messenger, though unseen, was recognized as the emissary of the highest. Men and women, youths and maidens, and little children, lambent in snow-white flames, came forth from their dwellings, and from the shadows of the groves; up from the murmuring watercourses they came, and from the coolness of the moss-draped ravines; they left their works and enjoyments, their meditations and their worshiping; they stood upon the mountain-tops, and gathered upon the seashore, and gazed skyward, listening and mute, while the flying voice passed over them, leaving its words of warning and exhortation behind. The songs of the birds were hushed as it went by, lest their careless music cause the message to be missed; the animals stole into their coverts, and the Nature people scurried in and out of the forest glades and caverns, awed and excited, they knew not why.
As the voice swept on, region after region of the mighty planet, with their multitudinous communities, caught the call to duty, and gathered in their places, to be ranged by their leaders into rhythmical cohorts and battalions, to subdue their myriad impulses into one impulse, to turn their innumerable thoughts into one thought, to communicate through the linked hands and measured footfalls, through long inter-weavings and choral chantings, the gathering strength of one will welded of all wills into a single flawless and irresistible chain.
And still the warning voice swept on, searching out the farthest valleys, arresting the wayfarers across the plains, overtaking the voyagers upon the boundless lakes, pausing not for tropic heats or arctic colds, never pausing or faltering, resolute to bear the tidings to every creature, and to keep faith to the last. Many there were that marveled who the messenger might be, but there was no answer. Zarga’s face was veiled; she performed her mission unknown and unsuspected; only her voice announced her. And only her secret heart knew whence came the strength that enabled her to persevere to the very end.
But when the long day was done she found herself among the sublime and icy silences of the virgin north. No creature lived here; no plant grew; enormous snowfields extended in smooth undulations; immemorial glaciers sloped silently from the mountainsides; frozen peaks glittered aloft, pointing to the unmoving stars. She alighted near the mouth of a great ice cavern, very weary but content. The duty laid upon her had been accomplished.
With the last strength remaining to her she crept into the cavern; to her failing eyes it bore a likeness to the chamber in the crystal mountain which her art had adorned for the festival of love, never to be consummated. A dark splendor of colors glowed within, receding into beautiful mysteries of gloom. Zarga dragged herself to the center of the cavern, and lay down, pillowing her golden head on a lump of ice. She might rest, at last!
“It was for him I did it!” she said to herself; “He will live and be happy with her, and I, too, am happy. He will never know that I died for him; but Lamara will understand, and she and the spirit will forgive me much, because I did my best to make amends.” Her eyes closed, and there was silence, never to be broken.
TORPEON now fought single-handed against the maddened thousands of his subjects. He laughed as he fought. He cleared a space around him, and at every wave of his truncheon a man fell. But they still came on, for they were desperate. They knew that, so long as Torpeon survived, misery, torture, and death would be their portion. The gage of battle having been thrown down, there could be no truce or quarter until he was slain; and if he were to be victorious, so much the more reason for them to fight to the death. They hated him more than they loved their own lives. They had served him in fear, and groaned in their servitude. Now the hour had come for liberty or annihilation.
“Snatch his truncheon from him,” they shouted to one another. “Tear him to pieces!”
Torpeon smiled, and death leapt out from his hand. But they still drove in upon him, for they were very many, and the fight was to the finish.
A gigantic creature, half ape, hairy and hideous, nurtured in the caverns and gorges of the dark mountains, came toward him from behind, crouching low behind the others, crawling between their legs, his lips drawn back from his grinning fangs, snarling in his throat, gripping in one hand a flint with a jagged edge. The flint had been soaked in the venom of crushed serpents. Asgar, realizing the opportunity, roused those in front to a fiercer attack, so that the prince’s attention might be diverted from the true point of danger. He tossed his thick arms frantically, and his gross body shook as he shrieked out his orders. Torpeon caught sight of him over the heads of the nearer fighters; he lifted his staff and pointed it at him. The invisible bolt flew to its mark. With a screech of rage and agony, Asgar sprang in the air and fell dead, the top of his skull blown off and his brains spattering the heads and faces of those behind him.
“Good old Asgar!” said Torpeon, chuckling in his beard. “Who next?”
But, an instant after, there rose from the crowd such a yell of horrible triumph and bloodthirsty frenzy as made the previous uproar seem tame by comparison.
The man-ape, seizing his chance, burst through the foremost ranks of those who hemmed the prince in from the rear, and made his spring. He alighted on Torpeon’s back, his short legs gripping him round the body, while his left arm, powerful as a bar of iron, encircled his throat, and with his right hand, armed with the poisoned flint, he strove to dash death into his face. Torpeon, overbalanced by the immense weight of the grisly creature, and half throttled by the squeeze of the hairy arm, staggered back and nearly fell, striving all the while to bring to bear the truncheon; but his antagonist warded it off with his upthrown shoulder; and now a headlong rush by those in front threw the prince off his feet, and he would have fallen had he not been held up by a simultaneous rush by those behind. By a titanic effort of strength he wrenched himself free from the strangler, and, twisting about, laid him dead with his staff; but not before the other, with a final blow of his armed fist, had succeeded in wounding him on the forehead with his envenomed stone.
At that juncture the gates of the castle were thrown open, and Miriam appeared on the threshold. Those who first caught sight of her uttered shrill cries of amazement and alarm, which turned the attention of others from their enemy; and in a moment the whole mob was facing toward her. None of them had ever seen her before, nor any creature resembling her; and the unknown terrified them. Her beauty and dignity struck them as a menace. She could have come for no other reason than to succor Torpeon, and therefore to attack them. They hesitated, wavering back and forth, not knowing with what powers she might be armed, or in what form the new assault would be made. But the masses in the rear, heartened by their advantage over the prince, forced forward those in front, and the space between her and them grew narrower. Miriam, on her side, after casting a comprehensive glance over the tumult, stepped out from the gateway and advanced straight toward the storm-tossed multitude. She seemed alone, for the companion who walked at her side was invisible to their eyes.
Torpeon, meanwhile, had gained a respite; but he was aware of his wound and of the deadly peril it involved. Already he felt the first chill of the poison congealing the current of his blood. For the time being, however, by the use of the charm against such dangers which he possessed, he was able to ward off the effects in some measure; but what aided yet more to restore him was the apparition at such a moment of Miriam.
It kindled a wild fire in him; for he could interpret her presence only as designed to aid him or to share his fate. She loved him, then! At that thought so fierce a tempest of emotions burst out in his heart that he shivered like a tower in earthquake; all else was lost, but she was won, and of what value beside that was any other victory or defeat! He threw himself toward her, slipping in blood, stumbling over corpses; if he could but gain the castle with her, and force his way to that guarded crypt below where was hidden the engine prepared against the last emergency, lurking there like a monstrous jinnee, biding its time to defy God and nature, he could wrench asunder the invisible cables that bound his globe to a hated obedience, and soar with her untrammeled into cosmic freedom. There would be leisure, then, to heal him of his wound; or, if death must come, it would find him in her arms. His brain began to reel; moments of blankness drifted across his mind; but he staggered onward.
To Jack the spirits of the slain were more conspicuous than were the still incarnate, and he perceived that they swarmed round the prince, bewildering his brain, urging him to insane thoughts, causing him to step amiss, and distracting his attention from the assaults of the mob. They constituted a peril more immediate than from the latter. He saw, too, that he could himself exercise more control over these dead than over the living. They saw and feared him, whereas the others divided their menace between Torpeon and Miriam.
The spirit of the hairy monster, reeking from his own corpse, and incomparably more hideous and infuriated than before, was especially active against his slayer. At this instant, seconded by the rampant specter of Asgar, he swerved Torpeon from his course, so that he tripped over Asgar’s body and fell headlong. The shock of the fall caused the truncheon to fly from his hand and left him defenseless. The mob made a rush for him.
No wrath or hatred against any living creature dwelt in Jack’s soul; his insight had now become too penetrating and comprehensive for that. He had no desire but to save the prince. With a gesture he drove back the murderous ghosts from their prey, but he could influence only indirectly the savage hosts of the earth-bound; and that would not suffice!
Miriam, however, hesitated not a moment. Unarmed and unshielded, she sprang to the rescue. The mob, lacking a leader either dead or living, gave back in transient panic before her, not knowing what magic weapon might be at her command. Torpeon struggled to his feet once more. But he was no longer fully conscious of what he did. Miriam said to Jack:
“Guide him to the castle, where he will be safe; leave these poor creatures to me.”
But a new element entered into the fray.
Jim, who had not noticed Miriam’s absence from the upper window, where he and Jenny had been observing the conflict below, had been greatly startled to behold her emerge from the gateway, apparently unaccompanied. Whatever had been his original plan of campaign, the turn of affairs had seemed so well calculated to forward his main object, that he had been satisfied to let it continue; a free fight, too, is always a captivating spectacle for a boy. But Miriam’s unexpected participation in the battle threatened total disaster to all his projects; and the necessity of protecting her swept all other considerations from his mind.
Disregarding the lamentations of poor Jenny, he seized his crutch and made off incontinently for the stricken field. He had not stopped to consider what form his intervention should take; he thought of himself not at all, except as an instrument of use for persons he loved; but he had full confidence in the efficacy of Solarion’s gift.
Selfless love for others is the soul of the faith that works what we regard as miracles. Things may happen in our daily walk and pass unobserved that are in their essence more marvelous than the transformation of a blackthorn stick into a battle-charger.
Be that as it may, it was a mounted cavalier who issued forth from the castle just as Miriam helped the dazed and moribund Prince of Tor to his feet and assigned him to Jack’s care while she faced the mob. She faced them, but made no demonstration. They were intimidated, but it would not be for long. The sight of Torpeon making his escape into the castle set fire to their rage anew. They were gathering courage for an onset.
Jim, as he rode forth, marked Torpeon entering in, but he had no consciousness of his guide. He had no misgiving but that his boss was many thousands of miles distant from this debatable ground. And if he could furnish the means of getting him and the woman he loved together, the chief end of his existence, as he saw it, would be achieved. To what else might happen he was royally indifferent.
“De boss an’ de missis is de real goods,” he told himself complacently; “not’in’ else ain’t in dere class; de on’y t’ing ails dem is, dey ain’t got no caution! Any guy what makes good in de ring has to be wise to side-steppin’; foot-work is de cheese; but dese here folks o’ mine, dey rushes in head down an’ wide open. De odder guy lands his uppercut, an’ ef de time-keeper ain’t on de job wid de bell, dey’s counted out! Well, I’s de timekeeper for dis roun’, an’ I figgers ter make a reckud!”
As he rode up to Miriam he hailed her cheerfully.
“Here yer are, miss! Las’ call ter lunch! Forw’d cyar on yer right! Hop right aboard while de hoppin’s good! On’y line what issers free passes ter N’York! Step lively an’ avoid de rush! All clear ahead, no sidin’s nor interference!” He had dismounted and taken his place on the left, with his hand ready to assist her in mounting. “Put yer foot here, miss, an’ up yer goes! Are yer on? Firs’ stop, Sattum, an’ de boss waitin’ fer yer on de platform. So-long!”
“But you must ride behind me, Jim!” said Miriam, holding out a hand to help him to the crupper. The creatures were closing round them.
Jim recoiled with an air of injured dignity. “Say, miss, fer de sake o’ Mike, git busy wid yerself! What, me? Is I de sort ter take de boss’s place, I arsks yer? Me, I takes me time, see! Jes’ you leave dese here slumgullions ter me! Say, cleanin’ up a bunch like dat is me middle name! An’ I’ll lan’ in N’York befo’ you does, at dat!”
Miriam felt that there was no leisure to parley. She stooped down quickly and caught the little anatomy round the body. But even as she lifted him to the saddle, a heavy stone, hurled with deadly aim and tremendous force, struck the boy just over the heart. He gave a gasp, and lay limp across her saddle-bow. The horse bounded into the air.
A blaze of light, spanning the heavens from east to west, arched across overhead—Lamara’s sign of the ring to the Saturnians. The whole stupendous circle had burst into dazzling flame. That appalling splendor sent its rays throughout the firmament. Simultaneously, Miriam saw the solid globe from whose surface she had just risen rock and lurch like a balloon straining at its moorings. It seemed to be endowed with a terrible life; it yawed and plunged this way and that; groanings broke from it; the peaks and crags were overthrown in ruin; the boiling rivers were tossed from their channels and emptied into the belching craters of the volcanoes; and the Bitter Sea, rushing from its bed, poured its flood over the city and its people. It whirled around the castle, deep down in whose rock-quarried crypt the crazed desperado had set in motion the huge wheels of his impious engine. The waters beat upon the walls and towers; they tottered and crumbled, and, whirling as they fell, buried their builder beneath a pyramid of shattered stone.
But, as Miriam still rose aloft, she saw the vast sphere of Saturn outspread beneath her. Upon its surface, revealed in the intense light of the blazing arch, the myriads of the Saturnians performed in concert the evolutions of their mystic rite. They covered the face of the sphere like a network of many colored strands, ceaselessly shifting and reforming in harmonious figures; a living web, through whose threads coursed the single will and impulse to master disorder with order, darkness with light, hate with love. The great globe was clothed with a lovely iridescence, the mingling hues of which united in white shafts of light, bearing in their bosom the invisible rays of spiritual energy which should counteract and overcome the profane forces of dissolution. Slowly but irresistibly the gigantic struggle issued in the victory of law and peace, and the infernal armies of rebellion and chaos gave way before the might of their opponents. Miriam saw the throes and heavings of tortured Tor gradually subside, and the planet resumed the steadfast track of its orbit. The embassy of Zarga, faithfully fulfilled, had not failed of its object.