CHAPTER XIVTHE COUNTERPLOT
“Tell me, Professor,” said Kearns to Dean at fourteen o’clock on the following day, “I’ve reason to believe I’ll need you badly in clearing up matters here. Will you help me?”
“I’m a little hurt at the question,” replied the Professor. “I should have hoped you would have taken the answer as a matter of course. How long will you need me? I’m at your service regardless of the length of time; but I ask because the last thing General Mainwarren did before leaving for Pennsylvania this morning was to request me to communicate with him speedily regarding the offer which he made me.”
“How long shall I need you?” repeated Kearns reflectively. “I can’t say. That depends, I imagine, largely upon you.”
“Very well,” answered Professor Dean, “General Mainwarren will have to wait. Suppose you begin by telling me how I can be of use to you.”
“I have already explained to you the nature of the case,” said Kearns. “I had another interview with His Nibs—that is—ah—His Majesty, I mean—this morning, but it did not result in my ascertaining anything of value beyond that which I already knew.”
“Indeed!” commented the Professor.
“No. It seems,” continued Kearns, “that after returning from the ball, the King immediately disrobed,retired, and was soon sound asleep. He was awakened by a sharp bark from the dog and sprang up just in time to see the animal fall in its death agony. At the same moment he noticed the flutter of the white paper on the floor.”
“Was there no sound of a shot—no smoke?” asked the Professor.
“No,” answered Kearns, “but there’s nothing wonderful in that, because I’ve found that to-day there exists not only a smokeless powder, but also one that’s noiseless. Moreover, they have powerful compressed-air guns from which such a shot could have been noiselessly fired.”
“Quite so,” assented the Professor. “And what is your theory as to how that paper came there?”
“Gently, Professor,” exclaimed Kearns. “Let’s take up matters in their regular order. We’ll put off the discussion of that point for the moment. I’ve told you what the paper contained. It was simply a warning, accompanied by the threat that the next warning received would be the last. It was a brief document compared to others the King has received.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes; the visit of last night was the fourth. Upon the first occasion, the King found beside his couch a lengthy document embodying demands and threats.”
“And what was the nature of these demands?”
“Oh, they were quite lengthy and detailed,” answered Kearns, “and were in the nature of demands that he should bring about certain industrial and economic changes, after which he was to abdicate and restore the country to a Republic, with either a President elected for a term of years, or at most a life President. Failing to comply with these demands, he was threatened with death as a usurper and an enemy of the people.”
“From whom is this document supposed to have emanated?” asked Professor Dean.
“To find that out,” answered Kearns, “is the very mission upon which I am employed. I’ve learned that there exists, as might be expected, a strong body among the people who are opposed to the new order of things and want to restore the Republic upon substantially its original lines. They are what we would call revolutionists, but the term given to them at the Court is ‘Reactionists.’ They are a secret body, much like the Nihilists of Russia, and all efforts to discover and uproot them have so far proved unavailing. Here and there certain conspiracies have been from time to time unearthed and the conspirators either executed or imprisoned, under High Treason laws which are now in full force. The captured men have always suffered like martyrs and have gone to their doom resisting all temptations to make disclosures. It’s known that the Reactionists are divided into bodies governed by presidents and that over them all is one supreme, able and powerful head known as the High President. Beyond this, practically nothing has been discovered by the spies of the King.”
“You’ve raised a very serious question,” said the Professor gravely. “As true Americans, with whom ought our lot to be cast? With the monarchy, or with these—these Reactionists?”
“I’ve thought of that,” answered Kearns, “but what are we to do? We’ve tumbled into this state of affairs, and it seems to me we must take things as we find them. The monarchy to us is a visible and tangible fact, whereas if we started out to-morrow to find the Reactionists we wouldn’t know where to look for them, nor whether they would want anything to do with us if we found them. Remember, too, thathere we are, pitchforked into this new world, without visible means of support, and the first thing for a man to do is to find a sphere of occupation and employment. I’m retained to make certain discoveries in my particular line of professional usefulness. I’m like a scientist employed to analyze the contents of a particular stomach, or an advocate retained to present a certain line of facts favorable to a given side. I disclose the results of that analysis, or I present that particular line of facts regardless of those who may be affected thereby. It’s strictly in the line of my professional activity—entirely within the scope of my professional work and entirely conventional and proper. It doesn’t seem to me that it would be wise, though, for us to plunge into the troubled sea of politics—at least for the present.”
“There is much truth in what you say,” replied the Professor. “Such discussion is, I suppose, fruitless. What more did you discover?”
“First let me ask you a few questions,” retorted Kearns. “How about that steering balloon—that air-ship—of yours? How near was it to completion when you went to sleep?”
“My air-ship!” repeated the Professor with astonishment. “The invention, as far as related to all the main points of discovery, was practically completed at the time this misfortune befell us.”
“Misfortune!” repeated Kearns. “I really don’t know whether that’s the right way to put it. Remember if it hadn’t been for that misfortune, you and I would be shades, playing harps upon some damp cloud, for perhaps the last quarter of a century. A live scientist is worth a dozen dead geniuses any time. However, never mind about that. Let’s come back to the balloon.”
“The air-ship!” corrected the Professor.
“Well, then, the air-ship,” continued Kearns. “Tell me about it.”
“Ah,” exclaimed the Professor with enthusiasm, “that involves quite an explanation on the subject of aëro-mechanics.”
“Is it like a balloon?” questioned Kearns.
“My dear sir,” exclaimed the Professor, “my air-ship differs as much from a balloon as a modern steamship from a mediæval caravel. Drifting aimlessly about between earth and sky in a balloon at the mercy of the air currents is one thing; to travel rapidly through space and navigate the air at will is an entirely different proposition. This latter is what my air-ship does.”
“Ah!”
“Yes; not only are you enabled in my air-ship,” continued the Professor, “to travel through space at a rate of speed exceeding that of the fastest steam engines of our time, but you can navigate absolutely at will. The motive power is stored electricity, joined to a new force which I discovered, and which is one of the important features of my invention. I’ll not touch upon the suspensory power,” continued the Professor, launching forth upon his theme with the enthusiasm of the scientist, “for that is too simple. Let me explain to you the combined motor and atmospheric counter resistant forces by which the aërial guidance is ensured. Imagine a central turret—we owe the basic invention on this point to the distinguished scientist Roowalter—a central turret, I say, furnished with powerful concentric screws connected with a number of lateral phalanxes, or——”
“Merciful powers, Professor!” cried Kearns, “you make my head swim. Why, man alive, you might as well explain all this to a stone wall as tome, for all I understand of it. Your thing floats and travels fast and can be steered, eh?”
“Precisely,” answered the Professor indulgently.
“And how big is it?”
“You can build it any size you please,” replied the Professor. “It can be built so large as to——”
“What is the smallest practical size?”
“About as small as an ordinary row-boat, only somewhat deeper and more pointed at the prow.”
“It can be made to stand absolutely still in space?” continued Kearns.
“Again, I will compare it to a row-boat,” replied the Professor. “If the motor power be shut off it will remain practically still, drifting more or less lightly in the air currents, just as a row-boat, unpropelled by the oars, drifts in the water according as the currents are more or less strong.”
“But suppose you could grapple with an anchor or other attachment, to the trunk of a tree, or the side of some structure, would it take much force to hold your machine perfectly still?” questioned Kearns.
“Very little,” answered the Professor, “in fact, I can again best illustrate by suggesting a row-boat held steady by a boat-hook.”
“Just so,” answered Kearns slowly and with a thoughtful air; “I think I understand. And how long,” he continued, after a moment’s reflection, “would it take you to build a machine of this character?”
“Of what size?”
“Oh, the smallest size.”
“That would depend,” answered the Professor, “upon the facilities at my command. Given a shop fully and efficiently equipped, I could turn out my air-ship in a remarkably short time. Like most goodthings, it presents the merit of much simplicity after once the right principles have been discovered. You see——”
“What do you call a short time,” interrupted Kearns, “assuming you had the highest facilities?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t like to specify exactly——”
“Tell me,” broke in Kearns impetuously; “would it be a day—a month—a year?”
“Since you insist,” replied the Professor, “under pressure and assuming that I was furnished with the highest facilities, my invention is so well advanced and the practical details are so clearly outlined in my mind that I could produce an air-ship of the smaller type in from two to three weeks.”
Kearns sprang forward with a joyous exclamation.
“Professor,” he cried, “you shall build that machine. You shall have the highest facilities—the very highest facilities—I promise you, but it must be ready within a month at latest!”
“Why—why—what do you mean?” exclaimed the Professor with mingled joy and astonishment.
“Never mind!” retorted Kearns. “Suffice it that the King will refuse me nothing I need to assist me in my investigations. And now, I have one other question to ask. Does your machine leak at times?”
“Leak!” repeated the Professor, bewildered.
“Well, I mean,” explained Kearns, “does it ever exude, drop, drip, let fall—or whatever you like to call it—a liquid of any kind?”
“Oh, I see what you mean!” exclaimed the Professor, his face lighting up. “Why, yes. To the right side and below the level of the main turret, there is a secondary storage box. The decomposition of the chemicals in this box produces the power to——”
“Now, Professor,” interrupted Kearns, “please don’t wax technical. Remember, as I told you, astone wall is a light and airy thing compared to my density as to matters mechanical.”
“Very well, O marvel of density!” retorted the Professor with light sarcasm; “I will endeavor to explain so that even your benighted brain may grasp and understand. What would you do if you had a grate full of coals and the coals had burned out and you wanted more fire?”
“I suppose,” replied Kearns mischievously, “that I should ring the bell and tell the servant to make up the fire.”
“And how would the servant do it?”
“I suppose by putting on more coals,” answered Kearns cautiously.
“Indeed!” sniffed the Professor contemptuously, “does it not occur to you—O man of self-vaunted thickness!—that the servant might indulge in some operation prior to putting on those fresh coals?”
“Huh!” exclaimed Kearns, with a puzzled expression; “I suppose you mean that there would first be a raking out of the ashes.”
“Good!” exclaimed the Professor; “you are beginning to betray an intelligence which is almost human. Now, so it is in the case of the air-ship. In that secondary storage box to which I have referred are certain chemicals which furnish power. When a portion of these chemicals have exhausted their activity, a residuum gradually forms, corresponding to the ashes in your grate, only it is in liquid form instead of solid. This residuum is allowed to escape through a valve and is thus carried away and, of course, the storage box is fed from time to time, as may be required, with fresh energy-producing chemicals.”
“Let me see if I understand it,” persisted Kearns with obstinacy. “This liquid residuum, as you callit, leaks away through the bottom of the air-ship, doesn’t it?”
“You may put it that way,” said the Professor, smiling.
“And that blamed old dripping liquid residuum would either burn into, or else make a deep brown stain upon any fairly soft material it touched, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, yes,” exclaimed the Professor excitedly; “a dark brown stain. But how—how did you know this?”
“Not bad, eh?” retorted Kearns, “for a marvel of density! In course of time—O sage of a century of Wisdom!—and under your able direction, you’ll find that almost human intelligence of mine gradually developing itself.”
“But how did you know this?” persisted the Professor.
“Patience! O Aged Wise Man of the decomposing chemicals, main turrets and cylindrical tubes,” retorted Kearns; “patience, I say! Didn’t I tell you that under my methods everything must come in its proper order? Listen, then, and you’ll learn.”
“I’m all attention,” said the Professor.
“I commenced my operations this morning,” began Kearns, “by making a thorough examination of thelocus. I’ll not weary you with a long description of the preliminary details of my investigation—how I extracted and took possession of the bullet which had been fired and thoroughly examined the apartment, its surroundings—everything.”
“I think we may trust you for that,” remarked the Professor, with a smile.
“The King’s sleeping apartment,” continued Kearns, “is in the extreme western wing of the palace. It is a spacious apartment, with two alcoves.One of these alcoves contains the royal couch; the other, the royal bath. There are four windows and two doors. One of these doors—that leading out on the passage—is securely sealed from the inside; the other leads into the antechamber. In this antechamber there is on duty every night a Captain of the Guard, and the outer corridor is watched by three sentinels. At the extreme end of the corridor is another apartment also at the disposal of the Captain of the Guard. Should anyone appear at the end of the corridor, the sentinel would signal to his comrade, who would in turn signal to the third sentinel and the officer on duty would come forth and receive the visitor in the apartment at the extreme end of the corridor. This is done to prevent any sound in the antechamber disturbing the King.”
“Quite elaborate precautions, I see,” commented the Professor.
“Just so,” resumed Kearns. “Now, last night, Captain Bingham, of the Guard, was on duty and I’m satisfied from what he tells me that no one visited the corridor after the King had retired. In fact, nothing happened until the sharp ring of the electric signal in the King’s chamber caused Captain Bingham to rush in and we know what he found there.”
“Yes, yes,” assented the Professor.
“I said I wouldn’t weary you by going into unnecessary details,” continued Kearns, “so I’ll omit the further investigations pursued by me and come to the point at once by telling you that I’m satisfied that no attack came from either the corridor or the antechamber. It came from without.”
“From the windows?”
“Exactly. There are four windows to the apartment. Two of these were closed last night and twoopen. All were shaded by heavy blinds which had been drawn fully down. The windows are forty-five feet from the ground and fifty-five feet below the palace roof. The grounds immediately beneath are patrolled by two sentinels, and on the roof immediately above are two other sentinels. The windows look out upon the park and the nearest tree to any of the four windows is sixty-five feet away.”
“It would seem a safe enough retreat and one certainly very difficult of approach by an enemy,” remarked the Professor.
“And yet,” replied Kearns, “that was the point from which the attack came. The King is extremely fond of air. He experiences a sense of suffocation whenever he is closed in an apartment which is not sufficiently airy. Confident in the sentinels above and below and in the inaccessibility of his chamber, it has been his custom to sleep with two of the windows open. I examined these windows carefully, inside and out. I discovered only one thing. It was not much and yet—yet—I think it means something.”
“What was it?” inquired the Professor eagerly.
“On the under side of the stone ledge under one of the windows, I discovered three sharp scratches and four small but rather deep indentations.”
“Ah! is that all?” exclaimed the Professor with an air of disappointment.
“That was all,” replied Kearns calmly, “yet to me it means something.”
“What do you think?”
“That by gripping onto the under part of that window ledge, something was held in place there—moored, if you so like to call it.”
“I fail to follow you,” remarked the Professor.
“Very well, then,” said Kearns, “if that’s thecase, we’ll leave the window and maybe you can follow me into the grounds. But before doing that, let me tell you one other fact I discovered. It was this: I inquired into the exact dates on which the three previous attacks had taken place and made another little discovery.”
“What was it?”
“Was there any moon last night?” asked Kearns, suddenly breaking off.
“No,” answered the Professor, after a moment’s reflection; “the last quarter went out three nights ago.”
“And last night was quite a dark night, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” replied the Professor; “slightly hazy and overcast.”
“Any heavy wind?”
“No,” answered the Professor.
“Just so,” continued Kearns, “and it was the same on the occasions of the other three attacks. I’ve consulted the weather records and in each case found a night following shortly after the wane of the moon’s last quarter—a dark, starless night, with light winds. Do you begin to scent an African in the woodpile?”
“I fear I must have a cold,” retorted the Professor, “for so far my sense of smell detects nothing.”
“Very well,” answered Kearns, “follow me into the grounds. I carefully examined the trees there—not merely the trunks, but also the tops. And among the leaves and branches of some of the tops I discovered something more.”
“Yes.”
“That a number—quite a large number—of the leaves had great blotches where they had been eatenaway and a number of the twigs and boughs had big brown splashes. I followed these marks in a westerly direction until I came to the river. There I lost them and all efforts failed to discover where they resumed on the bank. Now, do you begin to discover anything?”
“Speak out,” cried the Professor in ill-restrained excitement; “say what you mean!”
“I’ll endeavor to make it plain to your intelligence, O man of self-convicted density!” retorted Kearns triumphantly. “What do you think was the something which could come, in dead of night, under the window, forty-five feet above the ground, and be unseen by the sentinels above and below; the something which put a mark upon the stone ledge as if it had been moored there by the sharp prongs of a boat-hook; the something that leaves behind it burns and dark brown stains upon the leaves and branches of the trees?”
“What—what—can be the meaning of this?” stammered the Professor, his face working with excitement.
“That there are,” rejoined Kearns, “other distinguished scientists and inventors besides Professor Dean—that the work he dropped fifty years ago has been taken up by others and secretly perfected.”
“An air-ship—an air-ship!” gasped the Professor.
“Yes,” retorted Kearns, “yes, O man of cranks and cog-wheels, an air-ship. An air-ship coming on dark and windless nights, between moons, passing unseen the sentinels on turret and in grounds, and mooring under the windows of the King to deliver its attack. So will it come again! And it is with an air-ship, designed and built by you, that we must and can alone meet the attack.”