CHAPTER XVII
MIRACLES, SCOURGE OF FLAME
His form, sitting there at the desk--his face wearing an oddsmile--had already begun to grow less distinct. It seemed as if thelight surrounding him had faded, though everywhere else in the cabinit still gleamed with its accustomed brilliance. And as this lightaround him began to blur into a russet dimness, forming a sort ofscreen between him and visibility, the definition of his outlinesbegan to melt away.
The Master still remained visible, as a whole; but the details of himwere surely vanishing. And as they vanished, faintly a high-light, ashadow, a bit of metal-work showed through the space where he sat.He seemed a kind of dissolving cloud, through which now more and moreclearly objects beyond him could be distinguished. Impossible thoughthis seemed, it was indubitably true.
As he disappeared, he kept speaking. The effect of that undiminishedvoice, calm, slow, resonant, issuing from that disintegrating vapor,stirred the hair on the captive Frenchman's neck and scalp.
"Vibration, _mon cher monsieur_," said he, "is everything. Accordingto the researches of the Ecole Polytechnique, in Paris--no doubt you,yourself, have studied there, _n'est-ce pas?_--vibration of the firstoctave from 2 to 8 per second, give us no sense-impression. From thefourth to the fifteenth octave, 16 to 32,768 per second, we get sound.The qualities of the 16th to the 24th are--or have been, until Iinvestigated--quite unknown. The 25th to the 35th, 33, 554, 432 to 34,859, 738, 868 vibrations per second, give us electricity. Thence tothe 45th, again unknown.
"The 4th to the 48th give us heat. The 49th gives light The 50th,chemical rays, vibrating 1, 125, 899, 906, 842, 624 per second. The51st to the 57th have never been touched by anyone save myself. TheX-ray group extends from the 58th to the 61st octave. The 62d, with 4,611, 686, 427, 889, 904 vibrations per second, is a field where onlyI have worked. And beyond these, no doubt, other octaves extend withinfinite possibilities.
"You will note, _monsieur_," he continued, while the dun penumbrastill more and more withdrew him from Leclair's sight, "that greatlacunae exist in the scale of vibratory phenomena. Some of theso-called lower animals take cognizance of vibrations that meannothing to us. Insects hear notes far above our dull ears. Ants aresusceptible to lights and colors unseen to our limited eyes. Theemperor-moth calls its mate--so says Fabre--by means of olfactoryvibrations totally uncomprehended by us. The universe is full of hues,tones, radiant phenomena that escape us, because our senses are notattuned to them."
Steadily he spoke, and steadily the humming drone that filled thecabin kept its undertones that lulled, that soothed. The Frenchman,staring, hardly breathed. Rigid he sat and pale, with sweat now slowlyguttering down his face, his jaws clamped hard and white.
"If the true nature of the universe could suddenly be revealed to oursenses," went on the Master, now hardly more than a dull blur, "wecould not survive. The crash of cosmic sound, the blaze of strangelights, the hurricane forces of tempestuous energies sweeping spacewould blind, deafen, shrivel, annihilate us like so many flies sweptinto a furnace. Nature has been kind; she has surrounded us withnatural ray-filters of protection."
His voice now seemed issuing from a kind of vacancy. Save for a slightdarkening of the air, nothing was visible of him. He went on:
"With our limited senses we are, in a way, merely peeping outof little slits in an armored conning-tower of life, out at thestupendous vibratory battles of the cosmos. Other creatures, in otherplanets, no doubt have other sense-organs to absorb other vibratoryranges. Their life-experiences are so different from ours thatwe could not possibly grasp them, any more than a blind man couldunderstand a painting.
"Nor could those creatures understand human life. We are safe inour own little corner of the universe, comfortably sheltered in ourvestments of clay. And what we cannot understand, though it is allperfectly natural, we call religion, the supernatural, God."
From a great vacancy, the Master's words proceeded. Leclair, tuggingin vain at the bonds that, invisible yet strong as steel, held himpowerless, stared with wild eyes.
"There is no supernatural," said the now disembodied voice. "Whatwe call spirit, psychic force, hypnosis, spiritualism, the fourthdimension, is really only life on another scale of vibration. If wecould see the whole scale, we would recognize it as a vast, coherent,perfectly natural and rational whole, in which we human beings fillbut a very insignificant part. That, monsieur, is absolutely true!
"I have investigated, I have ventured along the coasts of the unknownvibratory sea, and even sailed out a little way on the waters ofthat unknown, mysterious ocean. Yet even I know nothing. What you arebeholding now is simply a slightly new form of vibratory effect. Theforce that is holding you paralyzed on that chair is still another. Athird, sent down the air-squadron. And--there are many more.
"I am not really vanishing. That is but an illusion of your senses,unable to penetrate the screen surrounding me. I am still here, asmaterially as ever. Illusion, _mon cher monsieur_, yet to you veryreal!"
The voice seemed moving about. The Frenchman now perceived somethinglike a kind of moving blur in the cabin. It appeared a sort of hole ofdarkness, in the light; and yet the light shone through it, too.
Every human eye has a blind spot in the retina. When things pass overthis blind spot, they absolutely vanish; the other eye supplies themissing object. To the French ace it seemed that his eyes were allblind spots, so far as the Master was concerned. The effect of thisvacancy moving about, shifting a chair, stirring a book, speaking tohim like a spirit disembodied, its footfalls audible but its own selfinvisible, chilled the captive's blood. The Master said:
"Now I have totally disappeared from your eye or any other materialeye. I cannot even see myself! No doubt dwellers on some other planetwould perceive me by some means we cannot imagine. Yet I am materiallyhere. You feel my touch, now, on your shoulder. See, now I put out thelights; now I draw aside this curtain, and admit the golden morningradiance. You see that radiance, but you do not see me.
"A miracle? _Pas du tout!_ Nothing but an application of perfectlynatural laws. And so--well, now let us come back to the matter underdiscussion. You have come hither to arrest me, _monsieur_. What doyou think of arresting me, now? I am going to leave that to your ownjudgment."
His voice approached the desk. The chair moved slightly, and gaveunder his weight. Something touched the button on the desk. Somethingpressed the iridescent metal disk. The humming note sank, faded, diedaway.
Gradually a faint haze gathered in the chair. Dim, brownish fogcongealed there. The chair became clouded with it; and behind thatchair objects grew troubled, turbid, vague.
The ace felt inhibitions leaving him. His eyes began to blink; hishalf-opened mouth closed with a snap; a long, choking groan escapedhis lips.
"_Nom de Dieu_" he gulped, and fell weakly to rubbing his arms andlegs that still prickled with a numb tingling. "_Mais, nom de Dieu!_"
The Master, now swiftly becoming visible, stood up again, smiled,advanced toward his guest--or prisoner, if you prefer.
A moment he stood there, till every detail had grown as clear asbefore this astounding demonstration of his powers. Then he stretchedforth his hand.
"Leclair," said he, in a voice of deep feeling, "I know and appreciateyou for a man of parts, of high courage and devotion to duty in theface of almost certain death. The manner in which you came ahead, evenafter all your companions had fallen--in which you boarded us, withthe strong probability of death confronting you, proves you the kindof man who wins and keeps respect among fighting men.
"If you still desire my arrest and the delivery to you of thisair-liner, I am at your complete disposal. You have only to sign thereceipt I have already written. If--" and for a moment the Masterpaused, while his dark eyes sought and held the other's, "if,_monsieur_, you desire to become one of the Flying Legion, and to takepart in the greatest adventure ever conceived by the mind of man, inthe name of all the Legion I welcome you to comradeship!"
"_Dieu
_!" choked the lieutenant, gripping the Master's hand. "You meanthat I--I--"
"Yes, that you can be one of us."
"Can that be true?"
"It is!"
The Master's right hand closed firmly on Leclair's. The Master's otherhand went out and gripped him by the shoulder.
To his feet sprang the Frenchman. Though still shaken and trembling,he drew himself erect. His right hand loosened itself from theMaster's; it went to his aviator's helmet in a sharp salute.
"_J'y suis! J'y reste!_" cried he. "_Mon capitaine!_"
The day passed uneventfully, at high altitudes, steadily rushinginto the eye of the East. In the stillness and solitude of the upperair-lanes, _Nissr_ roared onward, invincibly, with sun and sky above,with shining clouds piled below in swiftly retreating masses that spunaway to westward.
Far below, sea-storm and rain battled over the Atlantic. Upborne onthe wings of the eastward-setting wind, _Nissr_ felt nothing of suchtrivialities. Twice or thrice, gaps in the cloud-veil let dim oceanappear to the watchers in the glass observation pits; and oncethey spied a laboring speck on the waters--a great passenger-liner,worrying toward New York in heavy weather. The doings of such, and ofthe world below, seemed trivial to the Legionaries as follies of dazedinsects.
No further attack was made on _Nissr_, nor was anything seen of anyother air-squadron of International Police. The wireless picked up,however, a cross-fire of dazed, uncomprehending messages being hurledeast and west, north and south--messages of consternation, doubt,anger.
The world, wholly at a loss to understand the thing that had come uponit, was listening to reports from the straggling Azores fleet as itstaggered into various ports. Every continent already was buzzing withalarm and rage. In less than eighteen hours the calm and peaceful waysof civilization had received an epoch-making jar. All civilization wasby the ears--it had become a hornet's nest prodded by a pole no onecould understand or parry.
And the Master, sitting at his desk with reports and messages pilingup before him, with all controls at his finger-tips, smiled verygrimly to himself.
"If they show such hysteria at just the initial stages of the game,"he murmured, "what will they show when--"
The Legion had already begun to fall into well-disciplined routine,each man at his post, each doing duty to the full, whether thatduty lay in pilot-house or cooks' galley, in engine-room or pit, insick-bay or chartroom. The gloom caused by the death and burial atsea of Travers, the New Zealander, soon passed. This was a companyof fighting men, inured to death in every form. And death they hadreckoned as part of the payment to be made for their adventuring.This, too, helped knit the fine mass-spirit already binding themtogether into a coherent, battling group.
A little after two in the afternoon, _Nissr_ passed within far sightof the Azores, visible in cloud-rifts as little black spots sownon the waters like sparse seeds on a burnished plate of metal. Thishabitation of man soon slipped away to westward, and once more nothingremained but the clear, cold severity of space, with now and then aracing drift of rain below, and tumbling, stormy weather all along thesea horizons.
The Master and Bohannan spent some time together after the Azores hadbeen dropped astern and off the starboard quarter. "Captain Alden"remained in her cabin. She reported by phone, however, that the woundwas really only superficial, through the fleshy upper part of theleft arm. If this should heal by first intention, as it ought, nocomplications were to be expected.
Day drew on toward the shank of the afternoon. The sun, rayless,round, blue-white, lagged away toward the west, seeming to sway inhigh heaven as _Nissr_ took her long dips with the grace and swiftnessof a flying falcon. Some time later the cloud-masses thinned and brokeaway, leaving the world of waters spread below in terrible immensity.
As the African coast drew near, its arid influences banished vapor.Now, clear to the up-curving edge of the world, nothing could be seenbelow save the steel-gray, shining plains of water. Waves seemed notto exist. All looked smooth and polished as a mirror of bright metal.
At last, something like dim veils of whiteness began to draw andshimmer on the eastern skyline--the vague glare of the sun-crispedSahara flinging its furnace ardor to the sky. To catch first sightof land, the Master and Bohannan climbed the ladder again, to thetake-off, and thence made their way into the starboard observationgallery. There they brought glasses to bear. Though nothing definitecould yet be seen through the shrouding dazzle that swaddled theworld's rim, this fore-hint of land confirmed their reckonings oflatitude and longitude.
"We can't be more than a hundred and fifty miles west of theCanaries," judged the major. "Sure, we can eat supper tonight in anoasis, if we're so minded--with Ouled Nails and houris to hand roundthe palm-wine and--"
"You forget, my dear fellow," the Master interrupted, "that the firstman who goes carousing with wine or women, dies before a firing-squad.That's not the kind of show we're running!"
"Ah, sure, I did forget!" admitted the Celt. "Well, well, a look at acamel and a palm tree could do no harm. And it won't be long, at thisrate, before--"
A sudden, violent concussion, far aft, sent a quivering shudderthrough the whole fabric of the giant liner. Came a swift burst offlame; black, greasy smoke gushed from the stern, trailing on thehigh, cold air. Long fire-tongues, banners of incandescence, flailedaway, roaring into space.
Shouts burst, muffled, from below. A bell jangled madly. The crackleof pistol-fire punched dully through the rushing swiftness.
With a curse the major whirled. Frowning, the Master turned andpeered. _Nissr_, staggering, tilted her beak sharply oceanward. At asick angle, she slid, reeling, toward the burnished, watery floor thatseemed surging up to meet her.
A hoarse shout from the far end of the take-off drew the Master's eyesthither. With strange agility, almost apelike in its prehensile power,a human figure came clambering up over the outer works, clutching atstays, wires, struts.
Other shouts echoed thinly in the rarefied, high air. The climberlaughed with savage mockery.
"I've done for _you_!" he howled exultantly. "Fuel-tanks afire--you'llall go to Hell blazing when they explode! But first--I'll get the bosspirate of the outfit--"
Swiftly the clutching figure scrabbled in over the rail, droppedto the metal plates of the take-off--now slanting steeply down andforward--and broke into a staggering run directly toward the gallerywhere stood Bohannan and the Master.
At the little ladder-housing sounded a warning shout. The head andshoulders of Captain Alden became visible there. In Alden's right handglinted a service-revolver.
But already the attacker--the stowaway--had snatched a pistol from hisbelt. And, as he plunged at full drive down the take-off platform, hethrust the pistol forward.
Almost at point-blank range, howling maledictions, he hurled amurderous fusillade at the Master of the now swiftly falling Eagle ofthe Sky.
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