"No—I heard something. Silence!" called Dicky. "There! Hear it, any of you men?"
"Yes, sir. There it is again," cried Hurst, now filled with eagerness. "Listen, sir—there again! Well, I'm blistered!"
It was one of the seaman's choicest expressions, reserved for moments of unusual excitement. He let his still-smouldering pipe drop into a pocket and scratched his head with one rugged forefinger. And no wonder that he was puzzled. A moment beforehe and Hawkins, and Dicky Hamshaw and the remaining members of his crew would one and all have declared that they heard a shout come from a point almost directly ahead. They felt sure of the fact, could have made an oath upon it. And now it came from aloft, from the sky in fact.
"I'm blistered!" repeated Hurst, stupefied at such a strange occurrence. "Must be a sort of echo, sir."
"Hardly likely. Why, there it comes again, and from the sea this time without doubt. Dead ahead, too. Put her at it, Perkins."
Once more the process of giving steam to the engine was repeated, and presently the pinnace was tearing along through the water. Then of a sudden her onward progress was arrested. She struck some object heavily, canted to one side till the water poured in over the gunwale, and righted all in a moment. There was a tearing, grating noise for'ard, followed almost instantly by the hiss of water meeting something intensely hot, and by dense clouds of vapour.
"Holed, sir!" shouted Perkins. "There's water pouring in and flooding the furnace. I'm up to my knees in it already."
"Stand by there! Get hold of that light, Seaton, and let's see what's the damage. Stand by there, men. This looks like a bad business."
Dicky did not plunge into hysterics. On the contrary he was as cool as one could possibly have wished. That the matter was serious he guessed at once, though his inexperience left him doubting whathad actually happened. However, the rapidly rising water within the pinnace, the fact that he already stood knee deep himself, went a long way to convince him that his little command had met with an unfortunate accident. But he was hardly prepared for the amazing swiftness of its termination. Hardly had one of his men seized the light for'ard and held it aloft when, as if that was the prearranged signal, the pinnace filled, waves washed in over the gunwale while clouds of steam were shot from the furnace. Then, with a heave and a wriggle and an almost audible sob the pinnace shot away from beneath the feet of the crew who had manned her. Perhaps one half-minute later Dicky's head appeared from beneath the water which had submerged him. He opened his mouth and shouted:
"Stand by there, men! There's wreckage here. Hold on to it."
"Aye, aye, sir," came from Hawkins, his deep tones easily recognizable. "Now, lads, answer to your names as I call 'em. Hurst."
"Here, sir."
"Perkins."
"Here, sir."
The answer was given with a gulp. Perkins was endeavouring to eject the volume of water which he had so recently swallowed.
"Seaton, Carew, Tomkins."
"Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!" came with varying degrees of quickness, and for the most part in distinctly gasping fashion.
"All present and aboard, sir," cried Hawkins, using that formula by force of habit. "All clinging tight, sir."
"But to what? And there's that shout again. This is getting beyond me," declared the youthful Dicky, not in despondent tones it must be declared, for never was there a lighter-hearted nor more courageous individual. But in a manner which showed that the speaker was sorely puzzled. No wonder, too, for that elusive call sounded now as if it came from the sky again. It made the bulky Hurst actually tremble. He was shivering already, for the water was cold, and this sudden immersion was no joke under the circumstances. But now that call, three times repeated, sent a cold shiver down his back, as if someone had suddenly added a huge block of ice to the water.
"I'm jiggered," he stuttered, his strong teeth chattering. "From away up aloft. Why, there's a man here, sir, tied up to this here wreckage."
It was too dark to see more than an inch in front of one's nose, but Hurst could feel, and rapidly ran his fingers over the form of a man supported on the wreckage to which he and his companions were clinging. Was that wreckage the remains of a boat? Undoubtedly no. Then what was it? Both Hawkins and Hurst endeavoured to elucidate what had become a mystery. They ran their hands far and wide over spars and timber. They stretched as far as they were able, while Dicky Hamshaw did likewise, puzzled beyond expression by the strangeness of his immediatesurroundings. And then that far-away cry again fell on his ear.
"Silence, men," he commanded, in his most peremptory manner. "Now, give 'em a call—all together!"
The bellow which the half-submerged members of the crew sent out must have penetrated some considerable distance. They waited for an answering cry, and then were more completely bewildered. For of a sudden the darkness overhead was split in twain by a beam of brilliant light, which shot from a point far above them, a point so brilliant that they dared not gaze at it. A moment before they were struggling in the water surrounded by the densest darkness. Now, they and a huge circle about them were brilliantly illuminated, showing seven forlorn figures bobbing in the ocean about a mass of wreckage of curious formation secured to which was the body of a man more forlorn than themselves. Dicky Hamshaw wondered whether he were dreaming. He stretched out a hand and pulled at the sleeve of that unconscious figure. And then he gazed aloft, wondering from whence that light came, who could have cast it upon them, and what manner of ship it was that floated there, invisible and stationary yet a ship for all that; for a man or men were aboard it. Cries had come from that direction, while their own shouts had been followed by the sudden jet of light which now played about them. Was he dreaming indeed? or could that actually be the figure of a man descending through the very centre of the beam towards them,descending at a speed which made him giddy, treading steps which there was no seeing?
"Jingo!" he gasped. "This is getting too hot for anything. Why—why, the man's on a rope. Now, what in the dickens supports him?"
What indeed? Not one of the men clinging to that strange wreckage in the water illuminated so wonderfully could guess to what class of vessel that rope could be attached. For nothing was visible aloft save that one penetrating eye, that brilliant orb which shot down upon them its dazzling beams. Hurst shivered yet again. Even Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw was decidedly disconcerted and nonplussed by the uncanniness of the situation. For that man, dangling from a rope, turning like a spider hanging by a single thread, and swaying from side to side as the wind caught him, appeared to be supported by nothing in particular. And yet he was descending towards them at an amazing rate, and that too with no effort on his own part. Someone above must be paying out the rope to which he was attached. But who? Where was the spot from which he had started? What sort of vessel hovered aloft?
"I'm hanged," ventured Dicky.
"It's just the queerest thing as ever I seed, sir," admitted Hawkins. "But there's one thing I'm sure of. This here wreckage is what's left of a waterplane. See there—one of the floats is on the top of the water. There's generally two, so one can guess that the other's foundered, and if it wasn't for this here one the whole affair would have sunk.It's lucky for us and lucky for the man here. French, sir."
"Yes," agreed the young officer. "Looks it. Hallo!"
His last exclamation had been drawn from him by the sudden discovery that the man at the end of that strange rope was now within a matter of ten feet of him, swaying just overhead. In fact, in those few seconds during which Dicky had turned to inspect the wreckage to which he was clinging, the newcomer, descending as it were from the sky, had dropped to within speaking distance. Who was he? Of what nationality?
"Ahoy!" shouted Dicky, nothing daunted. "Where do you come from?"
A face looked down upon him, a face cast into shadow by that brilliant beam from above, and yet distinguishable to some extent by reason of the reflection from the water. It was a bearded face, that of a man in his early prime, strong, reliant, and dauntless, and bearing an expression familiar to the young officer. Did he know this man? Impossible.
"Who's that?" came in stentorian tones.
"Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw, sir," bellowed Hawkins, taking upon himself to answer; "he and the crew of the steam pinnace away from the Solent. We've struck against the wreck of a waterplane, and the pinnace has foundered."
"All present, I hope?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" shouted Dicky, for without a doubt the man above was a naval officer. He had the cutof a nautical man from head to foot, while whoever saw a man hang so comfortably in midair at the end of but a single rope but a sailor?
"And you can stick tight for a while?"
"Certainly," answered Dicky.
"Then hang on; I'll be down again in a minute."
The man waved his hand. There came a cry from far up aloft, and then the dangling figure was whisked upward at express speed, for all the world as if he were seated in an elevator going aloft in a New York skyscraper.
"I'm jiggered!" gasped Hurst, silenced up till now by the novelty of the situation. "Why, look what's coming."
Down through the very centre of the beam, appearing once more to have actually no point of support, there dropped a wide platform, over one edge of which a man's head protruded. At lightning speed it fell towards the wreckage, halting abruptly within two feet of the water as the man signalled. Then it dropped a few inches lower, while a hand was stretched out to Hawkins.
"Come aboard," that same cheerful, brisk voice commanded. "Where's the officer?"
"Here, sir," shouted Dicky.
"How many men are you responsible for?"
"Six, sir; and this fellow lashed to the wreckage."
"Good! Then we'll soon finish this business. Now, on you come."
Very rapidly was the crew of the pinnace transferred to this strange platform, and following themthe unconscious figure of the man they had come out to rescue.
"Hold tight!" came the order.
"Tight it is, sir," responded Hawkins.
"Then hoist."
The stranger signalled. Dicky felt the platform move upward. Then it shot towards the sky, while of a sudden the beam died out, leaving them all in darkness. It sent a chill down his back. Even the jovial and careless midshipman was impressed by the uncouthness of this adventure. Where was this stranger bearing them? What was to be the end of this amazing rescue?
"Hold tight all! Don't move or you will make the platform sway, and then it will be a job to keep your footing. Ah—up we go!"
The cheery individual, who had dropped so suddenly as if from the sky, bringing help to Dicky and his crew, called out loudly, once he had contrived with their help to cut asunder the lashings that bound the unconscious figure of the man they had come to rescue, and had lifted him aboard the platform which had borne him from aloft. He signalled at once, and then, as we have recorded, the platform shot upward at tremendous speed, while the brilliant light shedding its beams upon them went out of a sudden.
"I'd as soon be aloft in a gale on a dirty dark night, so I would," the bulky Hurst began to grumble, while he clutched at the smooth floor of the platform, and finding no hold there, sought for the edge and gripped it. For all had sunk upon their knees, standing being almost out of the question, and in any case hardly a position to attract any of the company. "There ain't no sayin' where this here platform ends and where it begins, and if you was to fall where'd you go to!"
"Where? Davy Jones's locker!" laughed Hawkins, though his hoarse tones told how the situation impressed him. "Right slick down to Davy Jones. Just you quit grumblin', my lad, and get a hold on with your eyebrows."
"Silence, men!" came sharply from Dicky. The precarious position in which he found himself, his unusual surroundings, and the uncertainty of the future making him quite irritable. "Now, sir, will you kindly explain where you are taking us. And first, let me thank you for turning up just in the nick of time."
"Not at all! Not at all! Delighted to be able to lend a helping hand to some of my own service."
"Navy, sir?" asked Dicky, though he felt sure of that fact from the very first.
"What else, my lad? Commander Jackson, at present engaged in experimental work."
"Aeronautics?" ventured Dicky.
"Perhaps; you'll see. Hold tight! Now that the light has been switched off it makes this platform none too safe. That is, for anyone not a sailor. Ah! They're slowing down the motor. We'll be aboard in a jiffy."
Their upward flight had indeed taken but a matter of a minute, and already they were hundreds of feet above the sea. Not that they could tell that for certain. But every one of the rescued crew had the uncomfortable feeling that they were poised high in the air, with but this flimsy platform between them and destruction. However, a few seconds later theybecame aware of a dull, droning noise, hitherto inaudible, while the speed of their strange lift had slowed considerably.
"Keep your hands off the edge of the platform!" shouted their rescuer. "Ah! Here we are! Come aboard, Mr. Provost."
The change from darkness to brilliant light was positively stupefying, even more than it had been in the reverse direction. For now, as Dicky and his crew crouched on the platform, fearful of moving to right or left lest they should lose their footing, there was a gentle bump, a flooring above their heads lifted, and in an instant they found themselves in a wide gallery blazing with light and occupied by three individuals. Another second and the platform came to a rest on a level with the flooring of this gallery, while a well-groomed, white-headed man stepped forward to greet them.
"Welcome!" he cried. "Well done, Commander Jackson! I was in a fever till I saw you had them all on board. Gentlemen, allow me to welcome you on your arrival."
It was Andrew Provost, well set up, thin and spare, and exceedingly well dressed. More than that it was Andrew Provost with a new light in his eye. He was almost truculent, and none who took the trouble to look at him could doubt the fact that if ever there were a successful and a contented man it was Andrew Provost.
"Permit me," he said, "to introduce my nephew, Mr. Joseph Gresson, the inventor and builder of thiswonderful ship. Step in, gentlemen, and let us provide you with dry clothing and refreshment."
"And allow me to introduce Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw," cried Commander Jackson, beaming upon the party. "Now, Mr. Provost, I think we had better do something for this poor fellow who was lashed to the waterplane. Let Alec take care of our guests for the moment."
"Alec! Alec! Of course; where is the fellow? Ah! There you are! Come here, sir," cried Andrew, in mock tones of severity, beckoning to a youth who till now had stood in the background. "This is Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw, in command of the rescued party. Take him along to your cabin and provide him with clothes. Hand the six men over to Sergeant Evans, and ask him to see at once to their wants. There! I leave it to you. We'll see what can be done for this poor fellow."
With his head still in a curious whirl, and his eyes turning from one strange object to another Dicky obediently followed the young fellow who had just been introduced as Alec, while Hawkins and the remainder of the crew stepped along the curiously smooth, elastic floor of the gallery after them. They reached a door, opened it and passed through, finding themselves in a second wide gallery. But this was different from the other; for it had doors on either side, while a railed-in square of flooring near the centre showed a hatchway, leading by a shallow flight of steps to a deck below, from which came the low hum of a motor.
"Sergeant Evans!" shouted Alec, and repeated the call.
"Here, sir!"
One of the many doors opened, and a tall, soldierly man appeared dressed in the smart livery of a mess waiter. "Got something hot, sir," he said brusquely. "I guessed food would be wanted, and so I set the cook to work to prepare it. But they're wet, sir."
He nodded to the young naval officer and his men, and looked at them with interest.
"Drenched," said Alec. "Pass the men along to Peters. Tell him to ferret out clothing for 'em, and give 'em a meal. I'll take the officer to my cabin, and we'll be in the saloon in five minutes."
The sergeant went off at once along the gallery, motioning to Hawkins and his comrades to follow; while Alec dived in through an adjacent door and ushered Dicky into as nice a cabin as he had ever seen. Indeed, it contrasted more than favourably with his own quarters aboard the vessel from which he had so recently parted. It was flooded with light from a couple of electric burners, and heated by a stove fitted in the far corner which was also operated by electricity. There were pictures on the walls, secured in a manner which he had never observed before, while the walls themselves were of a milky-white colour.
"Sit down over here," cried Alec, doing the honours with obvious pride. "You see, this cabin communicates with the next, and there's a common bathroom. That'll be the place in which to pulloff your wet togs. Hop into a hot bath as soon as you've got 'em off. By then I'll have a complete rig-out for you. We're about the same height and size, eh?"
He had been looking his guest up and down sharply, admiring his uniform, in spite of its drenched condition. And short though his scrutiny had been Alec had come to the conclusion that Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw was a right good fellow. As for Dicky himself, the novelty of his surroundings and the strange adventure through which he had passed had altogether kept his attention from his new comrade. He had merely noticed that Alec was a straight, active-looking fellow, with a pleasant smile and a jolly manner about him. Now, as he thanked him for his kind attention he gave the young man a quick, frank glance, which missed very little.
"I say, thanks awfully," he began. "What's—what's your other name?"
"Jardine—Alec Jardine. But Alec's good enough. Yours is Hamshaw, isn't it, Dicky?"
"Yes, Dicky," grinned the midshipman. "It's stuck to me ever since I was at Osborne. I hate it, I can tell you. Makes one think one is a girl. It's an awful nuisance looking so frightfully young, ain't it?"
They could condole with one another there, for Alec Jardine suffered from the same infliction. To be precise, he was within two months of the midshipman's age, no longer a boy, and not yet a man. And as is often enough the case with youth, he resentedthe position, found his age embarrassing, and his obvious juvenility a nuisance to say the least of it. But he did not allow it to damp his good spirits.
"We'll get over it, that's one good thing," he laughed. "I say, this is simply a ripping ship. You'll have an eye opener. But pull those togs off; I was thinking that mine would about fit you."
"To a T. Tell me about the ship—an airship I suppose? Something like a Zeppelin?"
"A Zeppelin! Why, that type of ship can't hold a candle to this one!" declared Alec loftily. "I've seen 'em. They're fine to look at, fast, and have big lifting capacity. But see how they behave. Let it blow just a little hard, and they're done for, that is if they happen to be outside their sheds and run out of petrol. It's only a week or more ago since one of them lost her way in a fog, ran out of spirit, and was forced to descend. She dropped into the hands of the French, my boy, and they soon had every one of her cherished secrets laid bare. Don't you make any mistake. This ship's not a Zeppelin. She's in a different street; she's just splendid."
The unstinted praise of a vessel with which he was as yet unacquainted whetted Dicky's appetite for a complete inspection. But not yet. He was wet and cold, and decidedly hungry. The news that Sergeant Evans had imparted had made his mouth water. Dicky reminded himself that there was a hot meal in prospect, and so that it might not be delayed he dragged off his wet clothes, and immersed himselfin a bath of steaming hot water that Alec had made ready for him. In about ten minutes he announced that he was fully dressed.
"And as hungry as a hunter," he told his new friend. "You wait and try the same experience. I was almost in our gunroom. In any case I could tell you what we were to have for dinner, because in a ship you can't keep all galley smells away from your messroom. Then they passed the word for Mr. Hamshaw. Of course I had to go, leaving the other fellows to sit down to a meal which I really wanted. An hour's steaming made me ravenous, and then came our ducking. I say, lead the way there's a good fellow. But I'd like to see my men before I take a bite myself. Eh?"
"Quite right. Look to your command first, then to number one. Follow down the passage."
Dressed in Alec's clothing, and looking spruce and smart, Dicky followed his friend down the gallery, through the door by which Hawkins and his comrades had departed, and so into the quarters of the crew of this strange vessel. Nor did there seem to be need for anxiety for the welfare of the gallant fellows who had accompanied him upon the steam pinnace. Already they were changed and dressed in clothing hurriedly dragged from lockers. Surrounded by swinging bunks on either side, with one huge electric lamp shedding its light upon them, they were seated about a long table with half a dozen strangers amongst them.
"All aboard and comfortable, sir," grinned Hawkins,standing as his officer appeared. "We've fallen amongst friends, and liberal ones too, sir."
"And have got a meal here what ain't supplied every day of the week by the Admiralty, sir," gurgled Hurst. "Not by a long way."
Dicky grinned his delight; and then, suddenly recollecting that it was not exactly the thing for an officer to listen to what might be construed as abuse of the Admiralty, he turned on his heel and motioned to Alec to lead the way.
"And you mean to tell me that we're high up in the air, floating in space!" he cried.
"One moment. Here we are—three thousand two hundred feet up," said Alec, stopping just outside the door of the men's quarters to inspect a barometer affixed to the wall. "That high enough?"
Dicky was at once conscious of a creepy feeling down his back. "What!" he gasped. "Three thousand feet?"
"Every inch of it. As safe as if you were on land; safer, perhaps, because you never know what's going to pass overhead nowadays, do you? What with airships and aeroplanes, the land's beginning to be a dangerous place to inhabit. Come along. You wait till it's daylight and you can see below. You'll get used to the height in a jiffy, and you'll agree that flying's magnificent. Here we are. Sergeant Evans!"
He dived in through a doorway, ushering his friend into a large saloon, in the centre of which stood a table laid ready for dinner. And here again we record but the bare fact when we say that Mr. MidshipmanHamshaw positively gasped. He was dumbfounded at the luxury he found here, at the brilliant lights, at the huge table groaning with silver and glassware, at the laden sideboard, and at the richness of the decorations. Whoever heard of such things aboard a ship sailing in the air?
"Wonderful!" he cried. "Why, I imagined there would be nothing but machinery—huge, oily engines thumping and thudding away at one's side, with just an odd corner for the captain and crew to rest in. This is magnificent; there's nothing better in all London."
It was at least flattering to Andrew Provost's taste, since he had been the designer of all this magnificence. But who could expect Dicky Hamshaw to take notice of rich carpets, of glittering silver, of famous pictures clinging to silk-brocaded walls, when there was food before him? He was ravenous. Had Alec had any doubts about the matter before, this smart and jolly young sailor soon set them at rest. He tackled that meal with the same dash and energy with which he had undertaken the task that had sent him post haste away in the steam pinnace. It was, perhaps, half an hour later when, having eaten to his own and Alec's content, he leaned back in his chair, accepted with a wonderful assumption of coolness the cigarette which Sergeant Evans offered him, and setting a flaming match to the weed, tossed his head back and sent a cloud of smoke upward. A moment later he had leaped to his feet with an exclamation of amazement. He might have suddenly come upon a pin-pointby the cry he gave. But undoubtedly something of real importance had created this excitement. He stood with his head tossed back, his eyes fixed upward, and his lips parted.
"What's that?" he asked. "It startled me. I—I've never seen anything like it. One appears to be looking through an enormous window into space. What's the meaning of it?"
His excitement caused Alec to smile, though he, too, looked his admiration as he gazed upward.
"Wait a moment," he said. "I'll switch off the light here and then the effect will be greater. Now, how's that?"
Well might Dicky give vent to exclamations of surprise and even of admiration, for, as he said, he had never seen anything nearly like this before. Up till now he had been far too busy with his meal to take note of anything but his immediate surroundings. But now, when he quite by chance cast his eyes upward, it was to become aware of the fact that this saloon apparently boasted of no ceiling. If it had one, then it was transparent; while, more wonderful than all, the supporting gas bag of this airship, which he imagined must be above, had all the appearance of being non-existent. Far overhead there burned one single electric lamp, casting its rays far and wide, illuminating the interior of the saloon brightly. But it appeared to hang to nothing, to be supported by no beam or rod, while the saloon itself in which he stood was, so far as he could see, attached to nothing. It was merely floating in theair, riding in space in the most uncanny and inexplicable fashion.
"Jingo!" he cried, feeling that strange, creepy sensation down his back again. "We're—we're safe, I hope?"
"As a house," laughed Alec. "But it does give one the creeps, don't it? The first night we were aboard and I looked upward it gave me quite a turn, even though I knew all the ins and outs of this wonderful vessel. Looks as if we were hanging here from nothing, eh?"
Dicky admitted the fact, with something approaching a gasp.
"And yet you're as sure as sure can be that such a thing is out of the question, absolutely impossible?"
"Well, yes," admitted the young officer, not too enthusiastically, for that uncanny feeling that he was high in the air, and might easily find himself falling with terrible rapidity, assailed him. And who can blame the midshipman? Who that has found himself suddenly at the edge of a tall cliff and looked over has not been assailed by a sensation of uneasiness, by the natural desire to reach firmer and more secure ground, to retire from a spot which might easily be filled with perils? Then think of Dicky Hamshaw high above the sea, aboard a ship the size and shape and contour of which were unknown to him, standing in a gilded saloon to all appearances open to the sky, with no ropes, no beams—nothing, in fact, to show him how it was supported. No wonderhe shivered. Even Alec forebore to smile. The situation was unpleasant and uncanny to say the least of it.
"Place your two hands together and look between them," said Alec, suiting the action to the word. "Don't stare at the light up there, for it's so bright that it half blinds you. Look well to one side. Now. Eh?"
He expected an answer, but Dicky failed to give it. Gasps of astonishment escaped his wide-parted lips, gasps denoting pleasure and admiration. For up above, now that he had shielded his eyes from the glare and looked away from the light, he could dimly make out huge girders stretching from left to right, criss-crossing and interlacing with one another. Here and there they ended apparently in nothing. Elsewhere they could be traced to their junction with other girders. And on beyond them, far overhead, he could even see stars, blurred a trifle by the material through which he observed them.
"Well, of all the wonderful things of which I have ever heard, this beats all!" he gasped at last. "What's the thing made of? There are girders above there heavy enough to carry a 'Dreadnought'. There's a huge framework that looks as if it were constructed of solid bars of steel; and yet, to look at them in a half light, which just throws out their outline, one realizes that they are made of something else, something transparent—yes, that's the term—for when one stares direct at the light, knowing full well that there are more girders in that direction, none of them canbe detected. George, this beats everything! What's the meaning of it all?"
"The meaning of it all! Why, that Joe Gresson is about the smartest fellow you ever heard of, that he's had the courage to employ a substance for the framework, and almost every part of this ship, which the average engineer would treat with scorn. In short, he's the discoverer of a substance which he calls celludine, which isn't celluloid, nor common glass, nor talc, and yet which is wonderfully like all three substances. You'll hear more about it, my boy. You'll get the same idea of Joe that I and all the others have. Look here! Just rap your knuckles against the wall of the saloon."
Dicky did as he was bidden, though he was still so astonished at the news given him that he did not even trouble to ask the reason.
"Well, how does it feel? Of course, there's a silk covering. Under that is the celludine. There's the same stuff here under the carpet."
"Hard, and yet it gives," said Dicky. "Appears to be very thin, and yet, I imagine, is very strong."
"That's celludine," cried Alec triumphantly. "Every wall, every door and frame is composed of it. Only here, where there are cabins—and one doesn't want to be stared at all day long—it's coloured a milky white, and so isn't transparent. But the ceiling is, that's why you can look aloft and see the stars floating overhead. But come along. We'll take a breather. I'll lead you to a spot that'll raise your hair, but will give you a better idea of thisairship than you can possibly have imagined."
They left the saloon at once, and passing along the gallery paused to look into a room on the far side. There they found Commander Jackson, Andrew, and Joe comfortably seated, smoking and chatting quietly.
"Ah, comfortably dressed and fed, my lad?" sang out the Commander.
"Yes, thank you, sir," smiled Dicky. "And, I say, sir, what a ship we've got to!"
"You'll say so to-morrow, when you've looked over her," came the answer. "Where are you two youngsters off to?"
"Aloft," sang out Alec. "I'm going to give him a scare, and get him used to the situation. But how's the foreigner, please?"
"Conscious and tucked up in a warm bed," answered Andrew. "There, cut along, you two. But no mischief, mind. I don't care if I'm responsible for Alec, but I'll not be having the Admiralty pouring all their indignation upon my unprotected head because of the loss of a midshipman."
That set Dicky flushing, while the Commander laughed loudly.
"There, off you get," he cried. "Trust a midshipman to look out for himself."
They closed the door, hastened along the gallery, and passing through a second door found themselves in the gallery upon which Dicky had first set foot. Alec led him to the precise spot where the lift had finally halted, and pointed to an opening overhead.
"It's the main hoist," he explained. "If we wantto pick something up from down below we lower that platform, just as we did to fetch your party. If we desire to get aloft to the top of the ship we step aboard the platform, now provided with rails; just so, Dicky, my boy, see that all's secure and safe, and then touch a button. Whiz! Up we go!"
It was a case of whiz with a vengeance. Dick had obediently followed his guide on to this lift, and now he felt his knees bend beneath him, while the smooth, elastic floor on which he stood shot upward at terrific speed, flashing through an oblong opening in the framework overhead, a framework quite transparent for the most part, with that arc light flashing down upon them without the smallest hindrance.
"Saves climbing, don't it?" shouted Alec, for the noise of a motor drowned the ordinary voice. "But if the thing refuses to work you can mount to the top of the ship by a stairway erected round the lift. Ah! Here we are. Hang on to your hat; it's blowing."
Dick felt a fresh gale of wind fanning his cheek, which alone told him that he was now in the open. He followed his friend across a flat, smooth deck and found himself clutching to a railing. And now for the first time he began to gather some information as to the contour and size of this amazing vessel. He might have been upon the upper deck of a secondLusitania, only this deck shelved off gradually on either side till it was lost in the darkness. That arc lamp, however, helped him wonderfully, and pacing beside Alec he began soon to wonder at the length of the ship as well as at her breadth. She wasimmense. It was hard indeed to believe that she was actually floating in space. And yet that must be so, for Alec bade him look downward.
"See for yourself," he said. "We're right forward, close to her nose, and there are no cabins beneath us. You can see clear through the ship down to the ocean. See the beacon lights along the shore, the lights of the vessels, and the blaze away there in the distance. That's where your ship is lying."
Even at night-time the sight was an amazing one, and left Dick stupefied. But what would it be in the morning, when there was no darkness to hinder his sight, and when he would be able to gaze directly downward from that terrific height?
"Let's go down," he said after a while. "I feel positively silly out here. I suppose it's because I'm not used to such a sight. How did you feel when you first attempted it?"
Alec laughed outright. "Feel? Awful!" he cried. "Everyone does at first, and wonders whether they're funking. Wait for the day. You'll get to love the view, particularly when you've learned how safe this vessel is. Come along; to-morrow there'll be a heap to show you."
They turned back toward the lift again and paused there for a moment. For beyond doubt there was at every turn something to attract the attention. A minute before it had been the lights about the Needles, the lamps on the shipping, the blaze from the Solent, where the warships were lying at anchor. Now itwas the interior of the ship, seen through her transparent upper casing. Yes, there was the saloon, with Sergeant Evans and a helper clearing the table. Nearer at hand were Andrew Provost, Joe Gresson, and Commander Jackson, still smoking and chatting as they lolled in their chairs. While away aft, in the men's quarters, the figures of Hawkins and Hurst and his shipmates were distinctly visible. They were smoking heavily, and between the clouds of smoke Hawkins's arm could be seen moving with some animation.
"He's just it," he was reiterating, "that there midshipmite is as artiful as a bag o' monkeys, and if he was to be left aboard this ship, why, there'd be mischief brewing, particularly with the young gent that's joined him."
And how Dick Hamshaw wished that he might remain. The first glimpse of this amazing vessel made him long for the day to come, so that he might investigate every corner. Then, he supposed, he'd have to depart. He and his men would take their places on that platform again and be lowered to terra firma. But the most unlikely things happen. He found that to be the case when he and Alec again joined their elders.
"Read that," said Commander Jackson, tossing a sheet of paper towards him. "We sent a wireless to your ship, and told 'em of your rescue. It seems they'd just heard of this airship through the Admiralty, and had orders to detail a party for her working. We've saved 'em the trouble. Read it."
Dick did, with flushing cheeks and beating heart. "Glad hear safety Midshipman Hamshaw and crew of pinnace," he read. "Have received orders from Admiralty to detail an officer and party for work aboard the airship. Keep Mr. Hamshaw and party if considered suitable."
"Hooray!" shouted Dick, filled with delight.
"One moment," interrupted the Commander with a quizzing grin. "If considered suitable, I think. Well, now, one has to consider."
"Don't scare the young fellow," cried Andrew jovially. "There, Dick, we'll take you. Just go along and tell your men, and then turn in. You've had enough adventure and excitement for the evening."
When, ten minutes later, Dick laid his head upon a soft pillow and pulled the clothes about him he could not believe that he was really aboard a flying vessel, could not credit the fact that he and his men were resting three thousand feet above the ocean.
"Hallo there! Turn out! It's a grand morning and there are things worth seeing."
It was the cheery Alec who aroused Dick Hamshaw on the day after his rescue outside the Needles and his introduction to the airship. Dick wakened with a start, rolled over comfortably, and blinked at his new friend.
"Eh! My watch. Not it," he grumbled sleepily. "I was off late last night and have had the dickens of a nightmare since. Fancied I was aloft in a big airship. Leave a fellow alone to sleep, do."
Alec shook him, laughing loudly. "So you call our airship a nightmare!" he cried. "That's a nice thing to do when the Admiralty have offered you and your men as part of our crew and Mr. Provost has accepted you. I'll tell the Commander. You'd better be getting back to your ship, for there are dozens of fellows who'd be only too glad to come aboard here."
That brought the great Dicky to his senses. He sat up on an elbow, still blinking at Alec with half-open eyes. Then those sharp orbs of his opened widely, the light of full understanding returned to them, and in an instant he was out of bed.
"My word, but I've been dreaming the whole affair over again, and couldn't think it could be true. And it's real? Eh? Actually a fact that I'm on board an airship high in the air. How high did you say?"
Alec made no answer. He stepped across the carpeted floor of this roomy cabin, with its milk-white walls and furniture, and its pictures secured to those same walls by tiny cleats of transparent material, and turning back some hangings exposed a window three times the size of an ordinary porthole, and provided with a pane of what one would have imagined was glass. But it bent with the force of the wind. Half open, the frame projected into the room at an angle to Dick, and glancing at it he caught a reflection of the sun, now bright, and a second later blurred as the pane bent and the surface was altered. The simple fact brought him bounding after Alec. He ran his fingers over both sides of the pane, bent the material backward and forward, and then tapped it with his knuckles. That done he suddenly gazed upward, only to find himself disappointed.
"You don't expect to have transparent roofs to your cabins too, do you?" laughed Alec. "A fellow couldn't undress without half the crew seeing him. No, the ceilings of the dressing-rooms, cabins, and so forth are made opaque. But this window gives you a good idea of the stuff of which the ship's made. Now, take a squint below."
Dick did as he was bidden, and instantly clutched tight to the frame of the window. For down below,down a terrible distance, was a smooth, oily surface which he guessed was the ocean. And on it were a number of minute dots at irregular intervals, while away to the right was a blurred patch of white, which might be land or anything else. The sight made him absolutely giddy. A glance away to his right showed him the under-surface of this enormous ship, transparent, it is true, but of a bluish-grey colour owing to the shadows cast upon it. It was immense. It stretched away from him in an easily-curving line till it was lost in the distance. And beneath it there was nothing, nothing but thin elusive air, and far, far below that muddy ocean.
"Jingo!" he gasped.
Alec grinned. "Makes a chap feel queer at first," he said. "But, as I've told you before, it's as safe as houses. Here, tumble into a tub. It'll buck you up, and when you've been on top with me and had a general look round you'll feel as right as a trivet. Shave?"
"Eh?" asked Dick.
"Do you shave?"
"Er, no—that is to say, not always."
"Lucky beggar! I have to. A beast of a job, and takes half the morning. You pop into the tub. We've a bath between us, and I dare say by the time you've finished I shall have managed to get rid of this growth. Awful bore I find it."
Dicky couldn't help but grin. He stepped across to Alec, forgetful now of the strange sight he had witnessed outside, placed himself directly in front of him,and closely scrutinized his features, maintaining a gravity there was no fathoming.
"Poor beggar!" he said at last. "Awful hard lines, ain't it? You'll find it difficult to get down to breakfast."
To be perfectly truthful, there was not so much as a single hair on Alec's chin or lip, any more than there was on Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw's. And the gravity of his guest, his candour, and those twinkling eyes quite made up to Alec for any soreness he may have felt at this somewhat personal declaration. He flushed a rosy red, and then burst into loud laughter.
"Oh well, perhaps I imagined it a bit," he said. "If I stick to the razor things'll come along in time. There, into the tub. I'll be along in a jiffy."
Ten minutes later, in fact, they were dressed and ready to leave the cabin, Dick having found his own clothes dried, brushed, and neatly folded beside his bed.
"I say," he began, "how do you come to be aboard? Tell me."
"Cousin of Joe's: going to be an engineer one of these days. Accepted his invitation in a jiffy. Come on. Breakfast'll be ready in half an hour, so we've time to make a round of the ship. Now, up we go to the top deck of all; it'll give you a good impression of the vessel."