CHAPTER IIIA STRANGE REVELATION
“In the name of the King!” cried Kearns, half indignantly, half amused. “I’m sure I don’t understand what you’re driving at; but from that badge I take it you represent the Law, and the Law I am always willing to obey. I’ll go with you; but I warn you, you’ll suffer for this work!”
The two men made no reply to this threat, but placing themselves on either side of him they marched out of the place, followed by the man in uniform, with Dean in charge. As they passed along the street, several loiterers and a number of small boys followed in their wake. The prisoners seemed to arouse the greatest curiosity.
Their captors hurried them along at a rapid gait to a neat stone building, with two imposing green lamps outside. Up a short flight of stone steps the prisoners were hustled and into a spacious room, where behind a large desk sat a man in uniform. Before the desk the party lined up.
“Is this the Sergeant?” asked Kearns, surveying curiously the official uniform.
“Lieutenant,” curtly answered the man behind the desk. “What’s the charge?” he asked sharply, turning to the little man with the squint.
“Treasonable and seditious utterances in a public place, Lieutenant,” answered the little man glibly. “Utterances in violation of the statute and againstthe peace of His Majesty, the King, his crown and dignity.”
“Did you take exact note of these utterances?” asked the official.
“I did, Lieutenant.”
“Give them.”
In obedience to the command, the man gave a fairly faithful repetition of the words uttered by the Professor in the bar-room.
He who was addressed as Lieutenant looked serious.
“Your name,” he demanded of Kearns.
“Thomas Kearns,” was the answer, impressively given; “and I’m chief of detectives of the New York police.”
The Lieutenant glanced up quickly, with an astonished look.
“My name isn’t unfamiliar, perhaps,” continued Mr. Kearns with some sarcasm.
The Lieutenant laughed softly.
“Yes,” he replied, “the name is familiar to me. So is that of Captain Kidd, and other legendary heroes of the past. Thomas Kearns, eh? There isn’t a small boy in the country who doesn’t know the name and who hasn’t read of his exploits.”
For a moment Kearns stood silent, as if he hardly gathered the sense of the words. Then his face flushed and he found voice.
“You talk about the past,” he said, in incisive tones. “I don’t understand you. I am the Chief of the Department I have named—right now—at this present moment; and that fact, I think, you’ll not find disputed by any member of the Uniformed Force, be his rank what it may. If you have any doubt, I would suggest that you telephone to Official Headquarters in New York.”
“Telephone!” ejaculated the Lieutenant. Again he laughed amusedly.
“I said telephone,” retorted Kearns sharply. “Perhaps,” he added scornfully, “you are not equipped with such an instrument here!”
“Scarcely,” answered the Lieutenant with a sniff, casting his eye toward a handsome looking instrument at the further end of the room. “A telephone, eh? Yes, I remember some time ago seeing one displayed as a curiosity at the Eden Musee in New York. Quite an interesting antique!”
“Sir,” said Kearns sternly; “I haven’t time to bandy foolish words with you. My friend and I are tired and we wish to go home at once. I want to ask you what kind of a charge this is upon which your men have dared to arrest two reputable citizens.”
“Unless the Medical Examiner declares them irresponsible,” answered the Lieutenant sarcastically, “the two reputable citizens are likely to find this matter pretty serious before they get through with it.”
“This is outrageous!” exclaimed Kearns, his anger rising. “Your behavior, sir, is infamous. If you occupied a similar position in the city to that which you do here, I would have you brought up on charges and reduced to the ranks for such conduct.”
The Lieutenant paid no heed to this outbreak.
“Your residence?” he demanded in formal tones.
Before Kearns could reply, the door of the station-house was thrown hurriedly open and a tall, portly man, with red face, iron gray hair and side whiskers, bustled in. The Lieutenant turned his eyes toward the new-comer and then raised his hand in military salute.
“Are these the prisoners?” asked the arrival, walking over to the desk.
“Yes, Colonel,” answered the Lieutenant.
“They were found on my estate?”
“No, Colonel; they were arrested at Tomlinson’s.”
“I understand; but they were originally found on my lands.”
“That I know nothing about, Colonel. I——”
“What do they say—what have you found out about them?” interrupted the Colonel eagerly.
“Nothing as yet. I was about to take the record when you came in.”
“I will question them myself,” said the Colonel. He turned to the prisoners. His manner betrayed a certain curiosity and eagerness, but his tone was kindly and gentle.
“How did you come to be where you were found?” he asked.
“The confounded Doctor!” blurted out Kearns impatiently.
“The Doctor, eh!” exclaimed the Colonel with interest. “What doctor? Tell me about him.”
“Well,” answered Kearns, hesitating, “the circumstances are somewhat peculiar and I don’t know that either my friend or myself care to figure as the heroes of a sensational newspaper story.”
“I beg you,” said the Colonel with great earnestness, “to speak out at once. I believe it to be important—extremely important that you should do so.”
Kearns still hesitated.
“Oh, tell the gentleman the state of the case, by all means,” exclaimed the Professor. “I feel really quite tired and exhausted and am anxious to get as quickly as possible out of this dilemma.”
“Tired—exhausted!” cried the Colonel. He turned to the Lieutenant. “Give them chairs. If what I suspect be true, it is of the highest importance that no mishap should occur to them!”
Chairs were procured for the two prisoners and,when they were seated, Dean turned to his companion. “Speak out and end this situation,” he again urged.
“All right,” assented Kearns. Without further delay he narrated their experiences with the Doctor in the cave. The Colonel listened with extraordinary interest.
“And so,” said Kearns in conclusion, “if this is really the month of July, as I’ve been told, we must have slept, or been in a condition of suspended animation, as that confounded Doctor called it, for a period of six weeks. But, tell me, what is the date?”
But the Colonel, who was looking at the prisoners with absorbed interest, did not answer. Instead, he put the following question, bending forward in eager anxiety for the reply:
“Can you tell me the date when you went into that cave and entered into that—ah—sleep you have described?”
“Certainly,” answered Kearns. “It was June the tenth.”
“June the tenth of what year?”
“June the tenth, nineteen hundred, of course.”
“What!”
“Whew!”
Both the Colonel and the Lieutenant uttered exclamations. The Colonel was red and excited; the Lieutenant half rose from his seat behind the desk. The prisoners stared in astonishment. What could there be so very extraordinary in the simple statement they had made?
There was a dead pause for a moment. Then the Colonel again turned to the Lieutenant.
“This is certainly very strange—very wonderful,” he said. “They must be taken in hand pending developments. Care must be taken of them—that they do not succumb——”
“What is so strange—what is it that is so wonderful?” broke in the Professor.
But the Colonel disregarded the question.
“I will take them with me—to my place,” he continued, addressing the Lieutenant. “They will be properly cared for there.”
“But the charge! How about the charge which has been preferred against them?”
“As a county magistrate, I am empowered to admit them to bail.”
“That’s true, Colonel.”
“Let the charge stand. For the time being, I permit them to go on their own recognizance. I will take care of them.”
“Very well, Colonel. Will you please sign the necessary papers?”
“Yes; give them to me.”
The Lieutenant handed the Colonel a paper and a pen and the latter hastily scratched a signature. Then he turned to Kearns and the Professor.
“Come with me,” he said.
But Kearns demurred.
“Will you excuse me, Colonel,” he said; “but both my friend and myself want to go without further delay to our own place. We’ve not the advantage of your acquaintance, and I’m sure I don’t understand the meaning of these proceedings.”
“You’ve been arrested on a serious charge,” said the Colonel gravely, but with good humor, “and you’re practically parolled in my custody. I don’t see what you can very well do, except take advantage of my hospitality, or adopt the unpleasant alternative of a cell.”
“But,” began Kearns with indignation, “I must assure you that——”
“I beg you not to excite yourselves,” exclaimed theColonel, as one might seek to quiet a fractious child. “It might be very bad for you—even fatal, under the circumstances. No one can tell what might happen, I assure you! Be content to come with me.”
“Let us go with the gentleman,” urged the Professor.
“Oh, very well,” answered Kearns. “I have no objection to seeing the adventure through to the end.”
“Come, Bowman, come, Walker,” said the Colonel, turning to the cross-eyed man and his companion; “assist them to my phaeromobile.”
“I don’t think we need assistance, thank you,” said the Professor, rising and waving away the tall dark man.
“Assistance, indeed!” exclaimed Kearns as he repulsed the cross-eyed man. “I should say not!”
“But you might fall! Pray be careful!” urged the Colonel with officious kindness.
“I may if I don’t get something to eat pretty soon,” laughed Kearns.
“Yes; it is certainly high time we ate,” declared the Professor.
“Ah, just as I feared!” remarked the Colonel anxiously.
By this time they had passed through the door of the station-house. Outside stood one of those curious looking machines which Kearns and the Professor had seen rushing past them on the highway. On the front seat sat a man, apparently the driver. Behind him, in the body of the vehicle, were seats for four persons.
“Step in,” said the Colonel cheerily. Turning to the cross-eyed man and his companion, he added warningly:
“Keep your mouths closed as to this matter. Not a word for the present!”
The two men thus addressed clicked their heels together and saluted.
“Home,” said the Colonel to the driver, stepping into the vehicle, “but not too fast!”
The driver saluted, turned a lever and they were off.
“And now for a few words of explanation,” said Kearns to the Colonel.
“Not a word, my good friends,” said the Colonel with soothing patronage, “until you are thoroughly restored—invigorated—out of danger!”
“Out of danger?” exclaimed Kearns mystified.
“What may be your meaning, sir?” inquired the Professor.
Both stared at him as if he were a good-natured lunatic.
“After six weeks of fasting,” said the Colonel diplomatically, “a man should be willing to go quietly to a meal, I think.”
They had passed beyond the limits of the town and, having reached the highway, were flying along at a rapid rate. Such was their speed that Kearns and the Professor were not loth to hold their tongues and attend to the matter of breathing. Along the road they flew, finally turning down a side road and drawing up in front of an ornamented iron gate, opened to them by a lodge keeper; then down a winding path, bordered by trees, until they stopped before the steps of a stately house. The Colonel stepped out of the vehicle.
“Welcome to Idleslip!” he said as he politely assisted them to alight.
He led the way up the steps, across a spacious foyer and turned into one of the rooms to the left. Drawing up two comfortable armchairs, he motioned them to be seated.
“Do you feel very weak?” he inquired with anxious concern. “Shall I order you some refreshment, or don’t you think it would be better to wait for the doctor?”
“Doctor!” cried Kearns. “I thank you. I have had all the doctor I want for some time to come.”
“Doctor!” exclaimed the Professor, who regarded the question in a different light. “Let us cease playing at cross-purposes. May I ask you frankly, sir, why you think we need a physician?”
“Pray calm yourselves,” urged the Colonel soothingly, “or, as I have already warned you, no one can foresee the results! See a doctor? Why not! After your remarkable—I may say, indeed, very extraordinary experiences——”
“You refer to our sleep in the cave?” interposed the Professor. “By the way, is it really possible that we have slept six weeks? What is the date?”
“No, no,” protested the Colonel. “Don’t seek any explanation now. Wait until later.”
“But this delay is exasperating,” persisted the Professor. “All these strange happenings—this mystery—play upon my nerves! I must insist upon an immediate explanation. I must ask you, Colonel—Colonel—pardon me, but what is the name?”
“I am Colonel, Sir Maynard Cuming.”
“SirMaynard Cuming!” repeated Kearns mystified.
“SirMaynard Cuming!” exclaimed the Professor, passing his hand over his eyes. “Let me ask you—is this the Republic of the United States, or have we in our sleep, or trance, been spirited into some foreign land?”
“The Republic of the United States?” said the Colonel with a curious smile; “Well—no!”
Kearns and the Professor rose to their feet.Kearns’ eyes were dilated, his hands clenched. The Professor was very pale.
“Speak!” he said. “What country is this and—the date—what?”
“Be calm,” urged the Colonel. “It’s not well you should be told these things now. Wait until later!”
The Professor advanced a step and spoke with all the concentrated energy of a thoroughly aroused man.
“Tell me the truth now,” he said, “or I’ll leave at once and seek it elsewhere.”
The Colonel realized the situation had reached a climax. Something must be done.
“Since you will have it so,” he replied gravely, “I will answer you. Prepare yourselves to hear calmly, bravely.”
“Go on!” cried Kearns breathlessly.
“You are at present,” answered the Colonel, speaking very slowly and distinctly, “upon my estate at Idleslip, seven miles from the county seat of Pemberton. You are in the Empire of the United States, within the realm of His Majesty, Imperial and Royal, William the First, Emperor of the United States, King of the Empire State of New York!”
His two auditors were staring at him wide-eyed, speechless. It was difficult to decide whether they took in the full sense of his words.
“The date,” continued the Colonel with enforced calm, “is July the twenty-fifth, nineteen hundred and seventy-five. You say you entered the cave June tenth, nineteen hundred. If your statement is correct, you have been in a state of suspended animation for seventy-five years!”