seventy-fifth meridian. The hurricane had carried her over the
icebergs and icefloes, against which she was in danger of being
dashed a hundred times or more. She was not in the hands of the
helmsman, but in the hand of God--and God is a good pilot.
The aeronef sped along to the north, and at the sixtieth parallel the
storm showed signs of dying away. Its violence sensibly diminished.
The "Albatross" began to come under control again. And, what was a
great comfort, had again entered the lighted regions of the globe;
and the day reappeared about eight o'clock in the morning.
Robur had been carried by the storm into the Pacific over the polar
region, accomplishing four thousand three hundred and fifty miles in
nineteen hours, or about three miles a minute, a speed almost double
that which the "Albatross" was equal to with her propellers under
ordinary circumstances. But he did not know where he then was owing
to the disturbance of the needle in the neighborhood of the magnetic
pole, and he would have to wait till the sun shone out under
convenient conditions for observation. Unfortunately, heavy clouds
covered the sky all that day and the sun did not appear.
This was a disappointment more keenly felt as both propelling screws
had sustained damage during the tempest. Robur, much disconcerted at
this accident, could only advance at a moderate speed during this
day, and when he passed over the antipodes of Paris was only going
about eighteen miles an hour. It was necessary not to aggravate the
damage to the screws, for if the propellers were rendered useless the
situation of the aeronef above the vast seas of the Pacific would be
a very awkward one. And the engineer began to consider if he could
not effect his repairs on the spot, so as to make sure of continuing
his voyage.
In the morning of the 27th of July, about seven o'clock, land was
sighted to the north. It was soon seen to be an island. But which
island was it of the thousands that dot the Pacific? However, Robur
decided to stop at it without landing. He thought, that he could
repair damages during the day and start in the evening.
The wind had died away completely and this was a favorable
circumstance for the maneuver he desired to execute. At least, if she
did not remain stationary the "Albatross" would be carried he knew
not where.
A cable one hundred and fifty feet long with an anchor at the end was
dropped overboard. When the aeronef reached the shore of the island
the anchor dragged up the first few rocks and then got firmly fixed
between two large blocks. The cable then stretched to full length
under the influence of the suspensory screws, and the "Albatross"
remained motionless, riding like a ship in a roadstead.
It was the first time she had been fastened to the earth since she
left Philadelphia.
Chapter XIX
ANCHORED AT LAST
When the "Albatross" was high in the air the island could be seen to
be of moderate size. But on what parallel was it situated? What
meridian ran through it? Was it an island in the Pacific, in
Australasia, or in the Indian Ocean? When the sun appeared, and Robur
had taken his observations, they would know; but although they could
not trust to the indications of the compass there was reason to think
they were in the Pacific.
At this height--one hundred and fifty feet--the island which
measured about fifteen miles round, was like a three-pointed star in
the sea.
Off the southwest point was an islet and a range of rocks. On the
shore there were no tide-marks, and this tended to confirm Robur in
his opinion as to his position for the ebb and flow are almost
imperceptible in the Pacific.
At the northwest point there was a conical mountain about two hundred
feet high.
No natives were to be seen, but they might be on the opposite coast.
In any case, if they had perceived the aeronef, terror had made them
either hide themselves or run away. The "Albatross" had anchored on
the southwest point of the island. Not far off, down a little creek,
a small river flowed in among the rocks. Beyond were several winding
valleys; trees of different kinds; and birds--partridges and
bustards--in great numbers. If the island was not inhabited it was
habitable. Robur might surely have landed on it; if he had not done
so it was probably because the ground was uneven and did not offer a
convenient spot to beach the aeronef.
While he was waiting for the sun the engineer began the repairs he
reckoned on completing before the day was over. The suspensory screws
were undamaged and had worked admirably amid all the violence of the
storm, which, as we have said, had considerably lightened their work.
At this moment half of them were in action, enough to keep the
"Albatross" fixed to the shore by the taut cable. But the two
propellers had suffered, and more than Robur had thought. Their
blades would have to be adjusted and the gearing seen to by which
they received their rotatory movement.
It was the screw at the bow which was first attacked under Robur's
superintendence. It was the best to commence with, in case the
"Albatross" had to leave before the work was finished. With only this
propeller he could easily keep a proper course.
Meanwhile Uncle Prudent and his colleague, after walking about the
deck, had sat down aft. Frycollin was strangely reassured. What a
difference! To be suspended only one hundred and fifty feet from the
ground!
The work was only interrupted for a moment while the elevation of the
sun above the horizon allowed Robur to take an horary angle, so that
at the time of its culmination he could calculate his position.
The result of the observation, taken with the greatest exactitude,
was as follows:
Longitude, 176° 10' west.
Latitude, 44° 25' south.
This point on the map answered to the position of the Chatham
Islands, and particularly of Pitt Island, one of the group.
"That is nearer than I supposed," said Robur to Tom Turner.
"How far off are we?"
"Forty-six degrees south of X Island, or two thousand eight hundred
miles."
"All the more reason to get our propellers into order," said the
mate. "We may have the wind against us this passage, and with the
little stores we have left we ought to get to X as soon as possible."
"Yes, Tom, and I hope to get under way tonight, even if I go with one
screw, and put the other to-rights on the voyage."
"Mr. Robur," said Tom "What is to be done with those two gentlemen
and their servant?"
"Do you think they would complain if they became colonists of X
Island?"
But where was this X? It was an island lost in the immensity of the
Pacific Ocean between the Equator and the Tropic of Cancer--an
island most appropriately named by Robur in this algebraic fashion.
It was in the north of the South Pacific, a long way out of the route
of inter-oceanic communication. There it was that Robur had founded
his little colony, and there the "Albatross" rested when tired with
her flight. There she was provisioned for all her voyages. In X
Island, Robur, a man of immense wealth, had established a shipyard in
which he built his aeronef. There he could repair it, and even
rebuild it. In his warehouses were materials and provisions of all
sorts stored for the fifty inhabitants who lived on the island.
When Robur had doubled Cape Horn a few days before his intention had
been to regain X Island by crossing the Pacific obliquely. But the
cyclone had seized the "Albatross," and the hurricane had carried her
away to the south. In fact, he had been brought back to much the same
latitude as before, and if his propellers had not been damaged the
delay would have been of no importance.
His object was therefore to get back to X Island, but as the mate had
said, the voyage would be a long one, and the winds would probably be
against them. The mechanical power of the "Albatross" was, however,
quite equal to taking her to her destination, and under ordinary
circumstances she would be there in three or four days.
Hence Robur's resolve to anchor on the Chatham Islands. There was
every opportunity for repairing at least the fore-screw. He had no
fear that if the wind were to rise he would be driven to the south
instead of to the north. When night came the repairs would be
finished, and he would have to maneuver so as to weigh anchor. If it
were too firmly fixed in the rocks he could cut the cable and resume
his flight towards the equator.
The crew of the "Albatross," knowing there was no time to lose, set
to work vigorously.
While they were busy in the bow of the aeronef, Uncle Prudent and
Phil Evans held a little conversation together which had
exceptionally important consequences.
"Phil Evans," said Uncle Prudent, "you have resolved, as I have, to
sacrifice your life?"
"Yes, like you."
"It is evident that we can expect nothing from Robur."
"Nothing."
"Well, Phil Evans, I have made up my mind. If the "Albatross" leaves
this place tonight, the night will not pass without our having
accomplished our task. We will smash the wings of this bird of
Robur's! This night I will blow it into the air!"
"The sooner the better," said Phil Evans.
It will be seen that the two colleagues were agreed on all points
even in accepting with indifference the frightful death in store for
them. "Have you all you want?" asked Evans.
"Yes. Last night, while Robur and his people had enough to do to look
after the safety of the ship, I slipped into the magazine and got
hold of a dynamite cartridge."
"Let us set to work, Uncle Prudent."
"No. Wait till tonight. When the night comes we will go into our
cabin, and you shall see something that will surprise you."
At six o'clock the colleagues dined together as usual. Two hours
afterwards they retired to their cabin like men who wished to make up
for a sleepless night.
Neither Robur nor any of his companions had a suspicion of the
catastrophe that threatened the "Albatross."
This was Uncle Prudent's plan. As he had said, he had stolen into the
magazine, and there had possessed himself of some powder and
cartridge like those used by Robur in Dahomey. Returning to his
cabin, he had carefully concealed the cartridge with which he had
resolved to blow up the "Albatross" in mid-air.
Phil Evans, screened by his companion, was now examining the infernal
machine, which was a metallic canister containing about two pounds of
dynamite, enough to shatter the aeronef to atoms. If the explosion
did not destroy her at once, it would do so in her fall. Nothing was
easier than to place this cartridge in a corner of the cabin, so that
it would blow in the deck and tear away the framework of the hull.
But to obtain the explosion it was necessary to adjust the
fulminating cap with which the cartridge was fitted. This was the
most delicate part of the operation, for the explosion would have to
be carefully timed, so as not to occur too soon or too late.
Uncle Prudent had carefully thought over the matter. His conclusions
were as follows. As soon as the fore propeller was repaired the
aeronef would resume her course to the north, and that done Robur and
his crew would probably come aft to put the other screw into order.
The presence of these people about the cabin might interfere with his
plans, and so he had resolved to make a slow match do duty as a
time-fuse.
"When I got the cartridge," said he to Phil Evans, "I took some
gunpowder as well. With the powder I will make a fuse that will take
some time to burn, and which will lead into the fulminate. My idea is
to light it about midnight, so that the explosion will take place
about three or four o'clock in the morning."
"Well planned!" said Phil Evans.
The colleagues, as we see, had arrived at such a stage as to look with
the greatest nonchalance on the awful destruction in which they were
about to perish. Their hatred against Robur and his people had so
increased that they would sacrifice their own lives to destroy the
"Albatross" and all she bore. The act was that of madmen, it was
horrible; but at such a pitch had they arrived after five weeks of
anger that could not vent itself, of rage that could not be gratified.
"And Frycollin?" asked Phil Evans, "have we the right to dispose of
his life?"
"We shall sacrifice ours as well!" said Uncle Prudent. But it is
doubtful if Frycollin would have thought the reason sufficient.
Immediately Uncle Prudent set to work, while Evans kept watch in the
neighborhood of the cabin. The crew were all at work forward. There
was no fear of being surprised. Uncle Prudent began by rubbing a
small quantity of the powder very fine; and then, having slightly
moistened it, he wrapped it up in a piece of rag in the shape of a
match. When it was lighted he calculated it would burn about an inch
in five minutes, or a yard in three hours. The match was tried and
found to answer, and was then wound round with string and attached to
the cap of the cartridge. Uncle Prudent had all finished about ten
o'clock in the evening without having excited the least suspicion.
During the day the work on the fore screw had been actively carried
on, but it had had to be taken on board to adjust the twisted blades.
Of the piles and accumulators and the machinery that drove the ship
nothing was damaged.
When night fell Robur and his men knocked off work. The fore
propeller not been got into place, and to finish it would take
another three hours. After some conversation with Tom Turner it was
decided to give the crew a rest, and postpone what required to be
done to the next morning.
The final adjustment was a matter of extreme nicety, and the electric
lamps did not give so suitable a light for such work as the daylight.
Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans were not aware of this. They had
understood that the screw would be in place during the night, and
that the "Albatross" would be on her way to the north.
The night was dark and moonless. Heavy clouds made the darkness
deeper. A light breeze began to rise. A few puffs came from the
southwest, but they had no effect on the "Albatross." She remained
motionless at her anchor, and the cable stretched vertically downward
to the ground.
Uncle Prudent and his colleague, imagining they were under way again,
sat shut up in their cabin, exchanging but a few words, and listening
to the f-r-r-r-r of the suspensory screws, which drowned every other
sound on board. They were waiting till the time of action arrived.
A little before midnight Uncle Prudent said, "It is time!" Under the
berths in the cabin was a sliding box, forming a small locker, and in
this locker Uncle Prudent put the dynamite and the slow-match. In
this way the match would burn without betraying itself by its smoke
or spluttering. Uncle Prudent lighted the end and pushed back the box
under the berth with "Now let us go aft, and wait."
They then went out, and were astonished not to find the steersman at
his post.
Phil Evans leant out over the rail.
"The "Albatross" is where she was," said he in a low voice. "The work
is not finished. They have not started!"
Uncle Prudent made a gesture of disappointment. "We shall have to put
out the match," said he.
"No," said Phil Evans, "we must escape!"
"Escape?"
"Yes! down the cable! Fifty yards is nothing!"
"Nothing, of course, Phil Evans, and we should be fools not to take
the chance now it has come."
But first they went back to the cabin and took away all they could
carry, with a view to a more or less prolonged stay on the Chatham
Islands. Then they shut the door and noiselessly crept forward,
intending to wake Frycollin and take him with them.
The darkness was intense. The clouds were racing up from the
southwest, and the aeronef was tugging at her anchor and thus
throwing the cable more and more out of the vertical. There would be
no difficulty in slipping down it.
The colleagues made their way along the deck, stopping in the shadow
of the deckhouses to listen if there was any sound. The silence was
unbroken. No light shone from the portholes. The aeronef was not only
silent; she was asleep.
Uncle Prudent was close to Frycollin's cabin when Phil Evans stopped
him. "The look-out!" he said.
A man was crouching near the deck-house. He was only half asleep. All
flight would be impossible if he were to give the alarm. Close by
were a few ropes, and pieces of rag and waste used in the work at the
screw.
An instant afterwards the man was gagged and blindfolded and lashed
to the rail unable to utter a sound or move an inch. This was done
almost without a whisper.
Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans listened. All was silent within the
cabins. Every one on board was asleep. They reached Frycollin's
cabin. Tapage was snoring away in a style worthy of his name, and
that promised well.
To his great surprise, Uncle Prudent had not even to push Frycollin's
door. It was open. He stepped into the doorway and looked around.
"Nobody here!" he said.
"Nobody! Where can he be?" asked Phil Evans.
They went into the bow, thinking Frycollin might perhaps be asleep in
the corner. Still they found nobody.
"Has the fellow got the start of us?" asked Uncle Prudent.
"Whether he has or not," said Phil Evans, "we can't wait any longer.
Down you go."
Without hesitation the fugitives one after the other clambered over
the side and, seizing the cable with hands and feet slipped down it
safe and sound to the ground.
Think of their joy at again treading the earth they had lost for so
long--at walking on solid ground and being no longer the playthings
of the atmosphere!
They were staring up the creek to the interior of the island when
suddenly a form rose in front of them. It was Frycollin. The Negro
had had the same idea as his master and the audacity to start without
telling him. But there was no time for recriminations, and Uncle
Prudent was in search of a refuge in some distant part of the island
when Phil Evans stopped him.
"Uncle Prudent," said he. "Here we are safe from Robur. He is doomed
like his companions to a terrible death. He deserves it, we know. But
if he would swear on his honor not to take us prisoners again--"
"The honor of such a man--"
Uncle Prudent did not finish his sentence.
There was a noise on the "Albatross." Evidently, the alarm had been
given. The escape was discovered.
"Help! Help!" shouted somebody. It was the look-out man, who had got
rid of his gag. Hurried footsteps were heard on deck. Almost
immediately the electric lamps shot beams over a large circle.
"There they are! There they are!" shouted Tom Turner. The fugitives
were seen.
At the same instant an order was given by Robur, and the suspensory
screws being slowed, the cable was hauled in on board, and the
"Albatross" sank towards the ground.
At this moment the voice of Phil Evans was heard shouting, "Engineer
Robur, will you give us your word of honor to leave us free on this
island?"
"Never!" said Robur. And the reply was followed by the report of a
gun, and the bullet grazed Phil's shoulder.
"Ah! The brutes!" said Uncle Prudent. Knife in hand, he rushed
towards the rocks where the anchor had fixed itself. The aeronef was
not more than fifty feet from the ground.
In a few seconds the cable was cut, and the breeze, which had
increased considerably, striking the "Albatross" on the quarter,
carried her out over the sea.
Chapter XX
THE WRECK OF THE ALBATROSS
It was then twenty minutes after midnight. Five or six shots had been
fired from the aeronef. Uncle Prudent and Frycollin, supporting Phil
Evans, had taken shelter among the rocks. They had not been hit. For
the moment there was nothing to fear.
As the "Albatross" drifted off from Pitt Island she rose obliquely to
nearly three thousand feet. It was necessary to increase the
ascensional power to prevent her falling into the sea.
When the look-out man had got clear of his gag and shouted, Robur and
Tom Turner had rushed up to him and torn off his bandage. The mate
had then run back to the stern cabin. It was empty! Tapage had
searched Frycollin's cabin, and that also was empty.
When he saw that the prisoners had escaped, Robur was seized with a
paroxysm of anger. The escape meant the revelation of his secret to
the world. He had not been much concerned at the document thrown
overboard while they were crossing Europe, for there were so many
chances that it would be lost in its fall; but now!
As he grew calm, "They have escaped," said he. "Be it so! But they
cannot get away from Pitt Island, and in a day or so I will go back!
I will recapture them! And then--"
In fact, the safety of the three fugitives was by no means assured.
The "Albatross" would be repaired, and return well in hand. Before
the day was out they might again be in the power of the engineer.
Before the day was out! But in two hours the "Albatross" would be
annihilated! The dynamite cartridge was like a torpedo fastened to
her hull, and would accomplish her destruction in mid-air. The breeze
freshened, and the aeronef was carried to the northeast. Although her
speed was but moderate, she would be out of sight of the Chatham
Islands before sunrise. To return against the wind she must have her
propellers going, particularly the one in the bow.
"Tom," said the engineer, "turn the lights full on."
"Yes, Sir."
"And all hands to work."
"Yes, Sir."
There was no longer any idea of putting off the work till tomorrow.
There was now no thought of fatigue. Not one of the men of the
"Albatross" failed to share in the feelings of his chief. Not one but
was ready to do anything to recapture the fugitives!
As soon as the screw was in place they would return to the island and
drop another anchor, and give chase to the fugitives. Then only would
they begin repairing the stern-screw; and then the aeronef could
resume her voyage across the Pacific to X Island.
It was important, above all things, that the "Albatross" should not
be carried too far to the northeast, but unfortunately the breeze
grew stronger, and she could not head against it, or even remain
stationary. Deprived of her propellers she was an unguidable balloon.
The fugitives on the shore knew that she would have disappeared
before the explosion blew her to pieces.
Robur felt much disappointment at seeing his plans so interfered
with. Would it not take him much longer than he thought to get back
to his old anchorage?
While the work at the screw was actively pushed on, he resolved to
descend to the surface of the sea, in the hope that the wind would
there be lighter. Perhaps the "Albatross" would be able to remain in
the neighborhood until she was again fit to work to windward.
The maneuver was instantly executed. If a passing ship had sighted
the aerial machine as she sunk through the air, with her electric
lights in full blaze, with what terror would she have been seized!
When the "Albatross" was a few hundred feet from the waves she
stopped. Unfortunately Robur found that the breeze was stronger here
than above, and the aeronef drifted off more rapidly. He risked being
blown a long, way off to the northeast, and that would delay his
return to Pitt Island. In short, after several experiments, he found
it better to keep his ship well up in the air, and the "Albatross"
went aloft to about ten thousand feet. There, if she did not remain
stationary, the drifting was very slight. The engineer could thus
hope that by sunrise at such an altitude he would still be in sight
of the island.
Robur did not trouble himself about the reception the fugitives might
have received from the natives--if there were any natives. That they
might help them mattered little to him. With the powers of offense
possessed by the "Albatross" they would be promptly terrified and
dispersed. The capture of the prisoners was certain, and once he had
them again, "They will not escape from X Island!"
About one o'clock in the morning the fore-screw was finished, and all
that had to be done was to get it back to its place. This would take
about an hour. That done, the "Albatross" would be headed southwest
and the stern-screw could be taken in hand.
And how about the match that was burning in the deserted cabin? The
match of which more than a third was now consumed? And the spark that
was creeping along to the dynamite?
Assuredly if the men of the aeronef had not been so busy one of them
would have heard the feeble sputtering that was going on in the
deck-house. Perhaps he would have smelt the burning powder! He would
doubtless have become uneasy! And told Tom Turner! And then they
would have looked about, and found the box and the infernal machine;
and then there would have been time to save this wonderful
"Albatross" and all she bore!
But the men were at work in the bow, twenty yards away from the
cabin. Nothing brought them to that part of the deck; nothing called
off their attention from their work. Robur was there working with his
hands, excellent mechanic as he was. He hurried on the work, but
nothing was neglected, everything was carefully done. Was it not
necessary that he should again become absolute master of his
invention? If he did not recapture the fugitives they would get away
home. They would begin inquiring into matters. They might even
discover X Island, and there would be an end to this life, which the
men of the "Albatross" had created for themselves, a life that seemed
superhuman and sublime.
Tom Turner came up to the engineer. It was a quarter past one. "It
seems to me, sir, that the breeze is falling, and going round to the
west."
"What does the barometer say?" asked Robur, after looking up at the
sky.
"It is almost stationary, and the clouds seem gathering below us."
"So they are, and it may be raining down at the sea; but if we keep
above the rain it makes no difference to us. It will not interfere
with the work."
"If it is raining it is not a heavy rain," said Tom. "The clouds do
not look like it, and probably the wind has dropped altogether."
"Perhaps so, but I think we had better not go down yet. Let us get
into going order as soon as we can, and then we can do as we like."
At a few minutes after two the first part of the work was finished.
The fore-screw was in its place, and the power was turned on. The
speed was gradually increased, and the "Albatross," heading to the
southwest, returned at moderate speed towards the Chatham Islands.
"Tom," said Robur, "it is about two hours and a half since we got
adrift. The wind has not changed all the time. I think we ought to be
over the island in an hour."
"Yes, sir. We are going about forty feet a second. We ought to be
there about half-past three."
"All the better. It would suit us best to get back while it is dark,
and even beach the "Albatross" if we can. Those fellows will fancy we
are a long way off to the northward, and never think of keeping a
look-out. If we have to stop a day or two on the island--"
"We'll stop, and if we have to fight an army of natives?"
"We'll fight," said Robur. "We'll fight then for our "Albatross.""
The engineer went forward to the men, who were waiting for orders.
"My lads," he said to them, "we cannot knock off yet. We must work
till day comes."
They were all ready to do so. The stern-screw had now to be treated
as the other had been. The damage was the same, a twisting from the
violence of the hurricane during the passage across the southern pole.
But to get the screw on board it seemed best to stop the progress of
the aeronef for a few minutes, and even to drive her backwards. The
engines were reversed. The aeronef began to fall astern, when Tom
Turner was surprised by a peculiar odor.
This was from the gas given off by the match, which had accumulated
in the box, and was now escaping from the cabin. "Hallo!" said the
mate, with a sniff.
"What is the matter?" asked Robur.
"Don't you smell something? Isn't it burning powder?"
"So it is, Tom."
"And it comes from that cabin."
"Yes, the very cabin--"
"Have those scoundrels set it on fire?"
"Suppose it is something else!" exclaimed Robur. "Force the door,
Tom; drive in the door!"
But the mate had not made one step towards it when a fearful
explosion shook the "Albatross." The cabins flew into splinters. The
lamps went out. The electric current suddenly failed. The darkness
was complete. Most of the suspensory screws were twisted or broken,
but a few in the bow still revolved.
At the same instant the hull of the aeronef opened just behind the
first deck-house, where the engines for the fore-screw were placed;
and the after-part of the deck collapsed in space.
Immediately the last suspensory screw stopped spinning, and the
"Albatross" dropped into the abyss.
It was a fall of ten thousand feet for the eight men who were
clinging to the wreck; and the fall was even faster than it might
have been, for the fore propeller was vertical in the air and still
working!
It was then that Robur, with extraordinary coolness, climbed up to
the broken deck-house, and seizing the lever reversed the rotation,
so that the propeller became a suspender. The fall continued, but it
was checked, and the wreck did not fall with the accelerating
swiftness of bodies influenced solely by gravitation; and if it was
death to the survivors of the "Albatross" from their being hurled
into the sea, it was not death by asphyxia amid air which the
rapidity of descent rendered unbreathable.
Eighty seconds after the explosion, all that remained of the
"Albatross" plunged into the waves!
Chapter XXI
THE INSTITUTE AGAIN
Some weeks before, on the 13th of June, on the morning after the
sitting during which the Weldon Institute had been given over to such
stormy discussions, the excitement of all classes of the Philadelphia
population, black or white, had been much easier to imagine than to
describe.
From a very early hour conversation was entirely occupied with the
unexpected and scandalous incident of the night before. A stranger
calling himself an engineer, and answering to the name of Robur, a
person of unknown origin, of anonymous nationality, had unexpectedly
presented himself in the club-room, insulted the balloonists, made
fun of the aeronauts, boasted of the marvels of machines heavier than
air, and raised a frightful tumult by the remarks with which he
greeted the menaces of his adversaries. After leaving the desk, amid
a volley of revolver shots, he had disappeared, and in spite of every
endeavor, no trace could be found of him.
Assuredly here was enough to exercise every tongue and excite every
imagination. But by how much was this excitement increased when in
the evening of the 13th of June it was found that neither the
president nor secretary of the Weldon Institute had returned to their
homes! Was it by chance only that they were absent? No, or at least
there was nothing to lead people to think so. It had even been agreed
that in the morning they would be back at the club, one as president,
the other as secretary, to take their places during a discussion on
the events of the preceding evening.
And not only was there the complete disappearance of these two
considerable personages in the state of Pennsylvania, but there was
no news of the valet Frycollin. He was as undiscoverable as his
master. Never had a Negro since Toussaint L'Ouverture, Soulouque, or
Dessaline had so much talked about him.
The next day there was no news. Neither the colleagues nor Frycollin
had been found. The anxiety became serious. Agitation commenced. A
numerous crowd besieged the post and telegraph offices in case any
news should be received. There was no news.
And they had been seen coming out of the Weldon Institute loudly
talking together, and with Frycollin in attendance, go down Walnut
Street towards Fairmount Park! Jem Chip, the vegetarian, had even
shaken hands with the president and left him with "Tomorrow!"
And William T. Forbes, the manufacturer of sugar from rags, had
received a cordial shake from Phil Evans who had said to him twice,
"Au revoir! Au revoir!"
Miss Doll and Miss Mat Forbes, so attached to Uncle Prudent by the
bonds of purest friendship, could not get over the disappearance, and
in order to obtain news of the absent, talked even more than they
were accustomed to.
Three, four, five, six days passed. Then a week, then two weeks, and
there was nothing to give a clue to the missing three. The most
minute search had been made in every quarter. Nothing! In the park,
even under the trees and brushwood. Nothing! Always nothing! Although
here it was noticed that the grass looked to be pressed down in a way
that seemed suspicious and certainly was inexplicable; and at the
edge of the clearing there were traces of a recent struggle. Perhaps
a band of scoundrels had attacked the colleagues here in the deserted
park in the middle of the night!
It was possible. The police proceeded with their inquiries in all due
form and with all lawful slowness. They dragged the Schuyllkill
river, and cut into the thick bushes that fringe its banks; and if
this was useless it was not quite a waste, for the Schuyllkill is in
great want of a good weeding, and it got it on this occasion.
Practical people are the authorities of Philadelphia!
Then the newspapers were tried. Advertisements and notices and
articles were sent to all the journals in the Union without
distinction of color. The "Daily Negro," the special organ of the
black race, published a portrait of Frycollin after his latest
photograph. Rewards were offered to whoever would give news of the
three absentees, and even to those who would find some clue to put
the police on the track. "Five thousand dollars! Five thousand
dollars to any citizen who would--"
Nothing was done. The five thousand dollars remained with the
treasurer of the Weldon Institute.
Undiscoverable! Undiscoverable! Undiscoverable! Uncle Prudent and
Phil Evans, of Philadelphia!
It need hardly be said that the club was put to serious inconvenience
by this disappearance of its president and secretary. And at first
the assembly voted urgency to a measure which suspended the work on
the "Go-Ahead." How, in the absence of the principal promoters of the
affair, of those who had devoted to the enterprise a certain part of
their fortune in time and money--how could they finish the work when
these were not present? It were better, then, to wait.
And just then came the first news of the strange phenomenon which had
exercised people's minds some weeks before. The mysterious object
had been again seen at different times in the higher regions of the
atmosphere. But nobody dreamt of establishing a connection between
this singular reappearance and the no less singular disappearance of
the members of the Weldon Institute. In fact, it would have required
a very strong dose of imagination to connect one of these facts with
the other.
Whatever it might be, asteroid or aerolite or aerial monster, it had
reappeared in such a way that its dimensions and shape could be much
better appreciated, first in Canada, over the country between Ottawa
and Quebec, on the very morning after the disappearance of the
colleagues, and later over the plains of the Far West, where it had
tried its speed against an express train on the Union Pacific.
At the end of this day the doubts of the learned world were at an
end. The body was not a product of nature, it was a flying machine,
the practical application of the theory of "heavier than air." And if
the inventor of the aeronef had wished to keep himself unknown he
could evidently have done better than to try it over the Far West. As
to the mechanical force he required, or the engines by which it was
communicated, nothing was known, but there could be no doubt the
aeronef was gifted with an extraordinary faculty of locomotion. In
fact, a few days afterwards it was reported from the Celestial
Empire, then from the southern part of India, then from the Russian
steppes.
Who was then this bold mechanician that possessed such powers of
locomotion, for whom States had no frontiers and oceans no limits,
who disposed of the terrestrial atmosphere as if it were his domain?
Could it be this Robur whose theories had been so brutally thrown in
the face of the Weldon Institute the day he led the attack against
the utopia of guidable balloons? Perhaps such a notion occurred to
some of the wide-awake people, but none dreamt that the said Robur
had anything to do with the disappearance of the president and
secretary of the Institute.
Things remained in this state of mystery when a telegram arrived from
France through the New York cable at 11-37 A.M. on July 13. And what
was this telegram? It was the text of the document found at Paris in
a snuff-box revealing what had happened to the two personages for
whom the Union was in mourning.
So, then, the perpetrator of this kidnapping "was" Robur the
engineer, come expressly to Philadelphia to destroy in its egg the
theory of the balloonists. He it was who commanded the "Albatross!"
He it was who carried off by way of reprisal Uncle Prudent, Phil
Evans and Frycollin; and they might be considered lost for ever. At
least until some means were found of constructing an engine capable
of contending with this powerful machine their terrestrial friends
would never bring them back to earth.
What excitement! What stupor! The telegram from Paris had been
addressed to the members of the Weldon Institute. The members of the
club were immediately informed of it. Ten minutes later all
Philadelphia received the news through its telephones, and in less
than an hour all America heard of it through the innumerable electric
wires of the new continent.
No one would believe it! "It is an unseasonable joke," said some. "It
is all smoke," said others. How could such a thing be done in
Philadelphia, and so secretly, too? How could the "Albatross" have
been beached in Fairmount Park without its appearance having been
signaled all over Pennsylvania?
Very good. These were the arguments. The incredulous had the right of
doubting. But the right did not last long. Seven days after the
receipt of the telegram the French mail-boat "Normandie" came into the
Hudson, bringing the famous snuff-box. The railway took it in all
haste from New York to Philadelphia.
It was indeed the snuff-box of the President of the Weldon Institute.
Jem Chip would have done on at day to take some more substantial
nourishment, for he fell into a swoon when he recognized it. How many
a time had he taken from it the pinch of friendship! And Miss Doll
and Miss Mat also recognized it, and so did William T. Forbes, Truck
Milnor, Bat T. Fynn, and many other members. And not only was it the
president's snuff-box, it was the president's writing!
Then did the people lament and stretch out their hands in despair to
the skies. Uncle Prudent and his colleague carried away in a flying
machine, and no one able to deliver them!
The Niagara Falls Company, in which Uncle Prudent was the largest
shareholder, thought of suspending its business and turning off its
cataracts. The Wheelton Watch Company thought of winding up its
machinery, now it had lost its manager.
Nothing more was heard of the aeronef. July passed, and there was no
news. August ran its course, and the uncertainty on the subject of
Robur's prisoners was as great as ever. Had he, like Icarus, fallen a
victim to his own temerity?
The first twenty-seven days of September went by without result, but
on the 28th a rumor spread through Philadelphia that Uncle Prudent
and Phil Evans had during the afternoon quietly walked into the
president's house. And, what was more extraordinary, the rumor was
true, although very few believed it.
They had, however, to give in to the evidence. There could be no
doubt these were the two men, and not their shadows. And Frycollin
also had come back! The members of the club, then their friends, then
the crowd, swarmed into the president's house, and shook hands with
the president and secretary, and cheered them again and again. Jem
Chip was there, having left his luncheon's joint of boiled lettuces,
and William T. Forbes and his daughters, and all the members of the
club. It is a mystery how Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans emerged alive
from the thousands who welcomed them.
On that evening was the weekly meeting of the Institute. It was
expected that the colleagues would take their places at the desk. As
they had said nothing of their adventures, it was thought they would
then speak, and relate the impressions of their voyage. But for some
reason or other both were silent. And so also was Frycollin, whom his
congeners in their delirium had failed to dismember.
But though the colleagues did not tell what had happened to them,
that is no reason why we should not. We know what occurred on the
night of the 27th and 28th of July; the daring escape to the earth,
the scramble among the rocks, the bullet fired at Phil Evans, the cut
cable, and the "Albatross" deprived of her propellers, drifting off
to the northeast at a great altitude. Her electric lamps rendered her
visible for some time. And then she disappeared.
The fugitives had little to fear. Now could Robur get back to the
island for three or four hours if his screws were out of gear? By
that time the "Albatross" would have been destroyed by the explosion,
and be no more than a wreck floating on the sea; those whom she bore
would be mangled corpses, which the ocean would not even give up
again. The act of vengeance would be accomplished.
Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans looked upon it as an act of legitimate
self-defence, and felt no remorse whatever. Evans was but slightly
wounded by the rifle bullet, and the three made their way up from the
shore in the hope of meeting some of the natives. The hope was
realized. About fifty natives were living by fishing off the western
coast. They had seen the aeronef descend on the island, and they
welcomed the fugitives as if they were supernatural beings. They
worshipped them, we ought rather to say. They accommodated them in
the most comfortable of their huts.
As they had expected, Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans saw nothing more
of the aeronef. They concluded that the catastrophe had taken place
in some high region of the atmosphere, and that they would hear no
more of Robur and his prodigious machine.
Meanwhile they had to wait for an opportunity of returning to
America. The Chatham Islands are not much visited by navigators, and
all August passed without sign of a ship. The fugitives began to ask
themselves if they had not exchanged one prison for another.
At last a ship came to water at the Chatham Islands. It will not have
been forgotten that when Uncle Prudent was seized he had on him
several thousand paper dollars, much more than would take him back to
America. After thanking their adorers, who were not sparing of their
most respectful demonstrations, Uncle Prudent, Phil Evans, and
Frycollin embarked for Auckland. They said nothing of their
adventures, and in two weeks landed in New Zealand.
At Auckland, a mail-boat took them on board as passengers, and after
a splendid passage the survivors of the "Albatross" stepped ashore at
San Francisco. They said nothing as to who they were or whence they
had come, but as they had paid full price for their berths no
American captain would trouble them further. At San Francisco they
took the first train out on the Pacific Railway, and on the 27th of
September, they arrived at Philadelphia, That is the compendious
history of what had occurred since the escape of the fugitives. And
that is why this very evening the president and secretary of the
Weldon Institute took their seats amid a most extraordinary
attendance.
Never before had either of them been so calm. To look at them it did
not seem as though anything abnormal had happened since the memorable
sitting of the 12th of June. Three months and a half had gone, and
seemed to be counted as nothing. After the first round of cheers,
which both received without showing the slightest emotion, Uncle
Prudent took off his hat and spoke.
"Worthy citizens," said he, "the meeting is now open."
Tremendous applause. And properly so, for if it was not extraordinary
that the meeting was open, it was extraordinary that it should be
opened by Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans.
The president allowed the enthusiasm to subside in shouts and
clappings; then he continued: "At our last meeting, gentlemen, the
discussion was somewhat animated--(hear, hear)--between the
partisans of the screw before and those of the screw behind for our
balloon the "Go-Ahead." (Marks of surprise.) We have found a way to
bring the beforists and the behindists in agreement. That way is as
follows: we are going to use two screws, one at each end of the
car." Silence, and complete stupefaction.
That was all.
Yes, all! Of the kidnapping of the president and secretary of the
Weldon Institute not a word! Not a word of the "Albatross" nor of
Robur! Not a word of the voyage! Not a word of the way in which the
prisoners had escaped! Not a word of what had become of the aeronef,
if it still flew through space, or if they were to be prepared for
new reprisals on the member's of the club!
Of course the balloonists were longing to ask Uncle Prudent and the
secretary about all these things, but they looked so close and so
serious that they thought it best to respect their attitude. When
they thought fit to speak they would do so, and it would be an honor
to hear. After all, there might be in all this some secret which
would not yet be divulged.
And then Uncle Prudent, resuming his speech amid a silence up to then
unknown in the meetings of the Weldon Institute, said, "Gentlemen, it
now only remains for us to finish the aerostat 'Go-Ahead.' It is left
to her to effect the conquest of the air! The meeting is at an end!"
Chapter XXII
THE GO-AHEAD IS LAUNCHED
On the following 19th of April, seven months after the unexpected
return of Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans, Philadelphia was in a state
of unwonted excitement. There were neither elections nor meetings
this time. The aerostat "Go-Ahead," built by the Weldon Institute,
was to take possession of her natural element.
The celebrated Harry W. Tinder, whose name we mentioned at the
beginning of this story, had been engaged as aeronaut. He had no
assistant, and the only passengers were to be the president and
secretary of the Weldon Institute.
Did they not merit such an honor? Did it not come to them
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573
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