The Lost City

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by Jos. E. Badger


  CHAPTER XII. THE STORY OF A BROKEN LIFE.

  This was the idea that occurred to both uncle and nephews, but they hadseen and heard enough to excuse all that, and Professor Featherwit spokeagain, in mildly curious tones:

  "Sorry I am unable to give you better tidings, my good friend, but, sofar as my knowledge extends, nothing has come to light of recent years.And--if not a leading question--were those passengers friends of yourown?"

  "Only--merely my--my wife and little daughter," came the totallyunexpected reply, followed by a forced laugh which sounded anything butmirthful.

  Uncle Phaeton, intensely chagrined, hastened to apologise for hisluckless break, but Cooper Edgecombe cut him short, asking that thematter be let drop for the time being.

  "I will talk; I feel that I must tell you all, or lose what few witsI have left," he declared, huskily. "But not right now. It is growinglate. You must be hungry. I have no very extensive larder, but with mylittle will go the gratitude of a man who--"

  His voice choked, and he left the sentence unfinished, hurrying away toprepare such a meal as his limited means would permit.

  While Edgecombe was kindling a fire in one corner of the cavern, openinga pile of ashes to extract the few carefully cherished coals by meansof which the wood was to be fired, uncle and one nephew left the den tolook after the flying-machine and contents.

  Bruno remained behind, in obedience to a hint from the professor, lestthe exile should dread desertion, after all.

  "Take these in and open them, Waldo," said the professor, selectingseveral cans from the stock in the locker. "Poor fellow! 'Twill be likea foretaste of civilisation, just to see and smell, much less taste, thefruit."

  "Even if he has turned looney, eh, uncle Phaeton?"

  "Careful, boy! I hardly think he is just that far gone; but, even ifso, what marvel? Think of all he must have suffered during so manylong, dreary years! and--his wife and child! I wonder--I do wonder if hereally killed--but that is incredible, simply and utterly incredible! AnAztec--here--alive!"

  "Dead, uncle Phaeton," corrected Waldo. "Killed the redskin, he said,and I really reckon he meant it. Why not, pray?"

  "But--an Aztec, boy!" exclaimed the bewildered savant, unable to passthat point. "The tunic of quilted cotton, the escaupil! The maquahuitl,with its blades of grass! The bow and arrows which--all, all surely ofAztecan manufacture, yet seemingly fresh and serviceable as though inuse but a month ago! And the race extinct for centuries!"

  "Well, unless he's a howling liar from 'way up the crick, he extinctedone of 'em," cheerfully commented Waldo, bearing his canned fruit to thecavern.

  Professor Featherwit followed shortly after, finding the exile busypreparing food, looking and acting far more naturally than he had sincehis rescue from the whirlpool. And then, until the evening meal wasannounced, uncle Phaeton hovered near those amazing curiosities, nowgazing like one in a waking dream, then gingerly fingering each articlein turn, as though hoping to find a solution for his enigma through thesense of touch.

  Taken all in all, that was far from a pleasant or enjoyable meal. Asense of restraint rested upon each one of that little company, and notone succeeded in fairly breaking it away, though each tried in turn.

  Despite the struggle made by the exile to hold all emotions well undersubjection, Cooper Edgecombe failed to hide his almost childish delightat sight and taste of those canned goods, and it did not require muchurging on the part of his rescuers to ensure his partaking freely.

  But the cap-sheaf came when uncle Phaeton, true to his habit of longyears, after eating, produced pipe and pouch, the fragrant tobaccocatching the exile's nostrils and drawing a low, tremulous cry from hislips.

  No need to ask what was the matter, for that eager gaze, those quiveringfingers, were enough. And just as though this had been his expresspurpose, the professor passed the pipe over, quietly speaking:

  "Perhaps you would like a little smoke after your supper, my goodfriend? Oblige me by--"

  "May I? Oh, sir, may I--really taste--oh, oh, oh!"

  Bruno struck a match and steadied the pipe until the tobacco was fairlyignited, then drew back and left the exile to himself for the timebeing. And, as covert glances told them, never before had their eyesrested upon mortal being so intensely happy as was the long-lostaeronaut then and there.

  At a sign from the professor, Bruno and Waldo silently arose and leftthe cavern, bearing their guardian company to where the air-ship wasresting. And there they busied themselves with making preparations forthe night, which was just settling over that portion of the earth.

  Presently Cooper Edgecombe appeared, the empty pipe in hand, held asone might caress an inestimable treasure, a dreamy, almost blissfulexpression upon his sun-browned face.

  "I thank you, sir, more than tongue can tell," he said, quietly, as herestored the pipe to its owner. "If you could only realise what I havesuffered through this deprivation! I, an inveterate smoker; yet suddenlydeprived of it, and so kept for ten long years! If I had had a pipe andtobacco, I believe--but enough."

  "I can sympathise with you, at least in part, my friend. Will you haveanother smoke, by the way?"

  "No, no, not now; I feel blessed for the moment, and more might be worsethan none, after so long deprivation. And--may I talk openly to you,dear, kind friends? May I tell you--am I selfish in wishing to troubleyou thus? Ten years, remember, and not a soul to speak with!"

  He laughed, but it was a sorry mirth; and not caring to trust his tonguejust then, uncle Phaeton nodded his head emphatically while filling hispipe for himself. But Waldo never lacked for words, and spoke out:

  "That's all right, sir; we can listen as long as you can chin-chin. Tellus all about--well, what's the matter with that big Injun?"

  "Quiet, Waldo. Say what best pleases you, my friend. You can be sure ofone thing,--sympathetic listeners, if nothing better."

  With a curious shiver, as though afflicted with a sudden chill,Edgecombe turned partly away, figure drawn rigidly erect, hands tightlyclasped behind his back. A brief silence, then he spoke in tones offorced composure.

  "A balloon was the best, in my day, and I was proud of my profession,although even then I was dreaming of better things--of something akinto this marvellous creation of yours, sir," casting a fleeting glanceat the air-ship, then at the face of its builder, afterward resuming hisformer attitude.

  "Let that pass, though. I wanted to tell you how I met with my awfulloss; how I came to be out here in this modern hell!

  "I had a wife, a daughter, each of whom felt almost as powerful aninterest in aerostatics as I did myself. And one day--but, wait!

  "I had an enemy, too; one who had, years before, sought to win mylove for his own; in vain, the cur! And that day--we were out here inWashington Territory, living in comparative solitude that I might thebetter study out the theory I was slowly shaping in my brain.

  "The day was beautiful, but almost oppressively warm, and, as theyso frequently wished, I let my dear ones up in the balloon, securelyfastening it below. And then--God forgive me!--I went back to town forsomething; I forget just what, now.

  "A sudden storm came up. I hurried homeward; home to me was wherevermy dear ones chanced to be; but I was just too late! That devil of alldevils was ahead of me, and I saw him--merciful God! I saw him--cut theropes and let the balloon dart away upon that awful gale!"

  His voice choked, and for a few minutes silence reigned. Knowing howvain must be any attempt to offer consolation, the trio of air-voyagerssaid nothing, and presently Cooper Edgecombe spoke.

  "I killed the demon. I nearly tore him limb from limb; I would have donejust that, only for those who came hurrying after me from town, knowingthat I might need help in bringing my balloon to earth in safety. Theydragged me away, but 'twas too late to cheat my miserable vengeance.That hound was dead, but--my darlings were gone, for ever!"

  Another pause, then quieter, more coherent speech.

  "God alone knows whither my wife and child wer
e taken. The general driftwas in this direction, but how far they were carried, or how long theymay have lived, I can only guess; enough that, despite all my inquiries,made far and wide in every direction, I never heard aught of eitherballoon or passengers!

  "After that, I had but one object in life: to follow along the track ofthat storm, and either find my loved ones, or--or some clew which shouldfor ever solve my awful doubts! And for two long years or more I foughtto pierce these horrid fastnesses,--all in vain. No mortal man couldsucceed, even when urged on by such a motive as mine.

  "Then I determined upon another course. I worked and slaved until Icould procure another balloon, as nearly like the one I lost as mightbe constructed. Then I watched and waited for just such another stormas the one upon whose wings my darlings were borne away, meaning to takethe same course, and so find--"

  "Why, man, dear, you must have been insane!" impulsively cried theprofessor, unable longer to control his tongue.

  "Perhaps I was; little wonder if so," admitted Edgecombe, turning thatway, with a wan smile lighting up his visage. "I could no longer reason.I could only act. I had but that one grim hope, to eventually discoverwhat time and exposure to the weather might have left of my lost loves.

  "Then, after so long waiting, the storm came, blowing in the samedirection as that other. I cut my balloon loose, and let it drift. Ilooked and waited, hoping, longing, yet--failing! I was wrecked, here inthis wilderness. My balloon was carried away. I failed to find--aught!"

  Cooper Edgecombe turned towards the air-ship, with a sigh of regret.

  "If one had something like this then, I might have found them,--evenalive! But now--too late--eternally too late!"

 

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