It was late afternoon, on a certain grey and dismal day, toward the
latter part of February, that two men happened to encounter each other,
after a long interval, upon the steps of the Migrants' Club.
The one--a tall, well-built, and exceedingly handsome man, with blond
curly hair, and beard and moustache to match--was entering the building;
while the other--a much shorter and stouter figure, with a cast of
features which rendered his German origin unmistakable--was standing
upon the top step, puffing at a cigar, as he leisurely drew on his
gloves preparatory to his emergence upon the street.
As the two men glanced at each other the light of mutual recognition
leaped into their eyes, and in a moment the right hand of each was
locked in the cordial grip of the other.
"Ach, mine vriendt," exclaimed the shorter of the two, as he beamed up
at the other through his gold-rimmed spectacles, "how are you? and how
is her ladyship? Both quite well, I hope!"
"Thanks, Professor, yes; we are both as hale and hearty as we can
possibly wish. But I am sorry to say that my little daughter--by the
way, are you aware that I have a daughter?"
"Ach, yes; I heard of it; zomebody toldt me of it, but I vorget who it
vas, now. Led me gongradulade you upon the zirgumstance, if it be nod
doo lade."
"Thanks very much, Professor; congratulations upon such an event are
never too late, especially when they are sincere, as I know yours to be.
But condolence is more appropriate than congratulation just now, for I
am sorry to say that the poor child is far from well; indeed, Lady
Olivia and I are exceedingly anxious about her; so much so that we have
brought her up to town to secure the opinion of a medical specialist
upon her case, and he advises complete change of air and scene for her.
And that is what brings me to the Migrants' to-day, where, by the
greatest piece of good luck, I have found the very man--yourself,
Professor--that I was most anxious to find."
"Good!" exclaimed the professor; "you wanted to vind me, and here I am,
quide at your service, my dear Sir Reginald. Whad gan I do vor you?"
"A very great deal, if you will," answered the baronet,--"or rather, if
you have nothing particular on your hands just now, I ought to say; for
I feel sure that, if you are not otherwise engaged, I may depend upon
your falling in with my scheme, now that I have happily found you."
"Of gourse," replied the professor. "That goes midoudt zaying. Well, I
am not engaged at bresend upon anydings bardigular, excepd the
elaboration of a rather Utopian scheme for the benefit of mangind
generally, and esbecially those unfordunate beobles who, in gonsequence
of the over-bobulation of the gread zentres of indusdry, vind themselves
unable to brogure embloymend and earn a living. Bud this scheme is only
in my brain as yed,"--energetically pointing to his expansive forehead
as he spoke--"and gan be worked oudt anywhere widoud obstruction to
other projecds; so, my dear Sir Reginald, if you require my aid in any
way you may gommand me. Berhaps we may be able to help each other."
"You are, of course, more than welcome to any aid that I can afford
you," answered the "handsome baronet," as Sir Reginald Elphinstone's
friends sometimes called him--behind his back, of course. "But where
are you going?" he continued. "Anywhere in particular? If so, I will
walk a little way with you. Or, if you are not bound upon the
fulfilment of any engagement, let us go up into the smoking-room and
have a chat there."
"I am not boundt anywhere in bardigular, and the smoking-room is quide
empty, so led us go there, by all means," exclaimed the professor, as he
linked his arm in that of his companion; and together the strongly
contrasted pair wended their way through the handsome entrance-hall of
the building and up the spacious marble staircase to the cosiest
smoking-room in all London.
The taller and more striking-looking of the two was Sir Reginald
Elphinstone, a baronet, and an immensely wealthy man, with a magnificent
estate in the heart of the most picturesque part of Devonshire, a lovely
wife, and a most charming, lovable little daughter, now just five years
old. The baronet himself had barely passed his fortieth year, and was a
superb specimen of English manhood, standing full six feet two in his
stockings, with a fine athletic figure, blue eyes that ordinarily beamed
with kindliness and good-humour, but which could, upon occasion, flash
withering scorn or scathing anger upon an offender, and curly golden
hair, with beard and moustache to match, that made him look like a
viking got up in the style of a twentieth-century English gentleman.
His companion, much shorter and stouter of figure, was Professor
Heinrich von Schalckenberg, a German by birth, but a cosmopolitan by
nature and by virtue of his own restless disposition, which would never
permit him to settle down for very long in any one place, however
attractive. He was a perfect marvel in the matter of learning, a most
accomplished linguist, and an indefatigable delver in the lesser-known
fields of science, wherein he was credited with having made discoveries
of vast importance and value. If such was the case he was in no hurry
to make his discoveries public property, chiefly, perhaps, because--as
some of his more intimate friends suggested--they were of such a nature
as rendered them capable of disastrous misuse in the hands of the
evil-disposed, especially those enemies of society and the human race,
the Anarchists. Be that as it may, it was undoubtedly the fact that he
had discovered two hitherto unknown substances, the properties of which
would render them of priceless value whenever he should see fit to make
them known: the one being an unoxidisable metal of extraordinary
strength and tenacity, yet of so little weight that it was the lightest
known solid, to which he had given the name of _aethereum_; while the
other was a new power, derivable from certain chemically prepared
crystals which, treated in one way, yielded electricity in enormous
volumes, while, powdered and treated with a certain acid, they evolved
an expansive gas of stupendous potency, capable of being advantageously
used in place of any of the known explosives, or of steam. And it was
known to a few of the more intimate friends of the professor and of Sir
Reginald, that the former had designed and constructed of his wonderful
metal a marvellous ship, appropriately named the _Flying Fish_, capable
not only of navigating the surface of the ocean, but also of diving to
its extremest depth, and--more wonderful still--of soaring to hitherto
unapproachable altitudes of the earth's atmosphere. And it was further
known that in this extraordinary ship--constructed for and at the
expense of Sir Reginald Elphinstone--the baronet, the professor, and two
other daring spirits had already accomplished two voyages; on the first
of which they had actually succeeded in penetrating to the North Pole;
while, on the second, they had visited a hitherto unexplored region of
the great African continent, discovering the site and ruins of ancient
Ophir; and, of course, in both cases meeting with many astounding
adventures.
Such were the two men who unexpectedly met on the steps of the Migrants'
Club, and, after an interchange of greetings, made their way together to
the smoking-room of that rather exclusive institution, whither the
reader is now invited to follow them.
As we enter the apartment, unobserved, we note, with some astonishment,
that it is evidently one of the largest rooms in the building; the
reason being that the Migrants are, almost to a man, ardent devotees of
the goddess Nicotina; and as it seemed probable that the smoking-room
would be the most-used room in the building, they very wisely determined
that it should also be one of the largest. Another peculiarity which we
notice is that, with the exception of the space over the massive and
elaborately carved black marble mantelpiece--which is occupied by an
enormous mirror--the walls are almost entirely covered with pictures in
oils, water-colours, crayons, photography, ay, and even in pencil; most
of them bearing evidence in their execution that they are the
productions of amateurs, although here and there the eye detects work
strong enough to suggest the hand and eye of the veteran professional
painter. But, although so much of the work is amateurish, it is
nevertheless thoroughly good, no picture being permitted to be hung upon
the walls until it has been subjected to the scrutiny, and received the
approval, of a Hanging Committee of artistic members. Looking more
closely at these pictures, we note that--with the exception of the
photographs, which mostly portray scenery of an exceptionally grand or
otherwise remarkable character--they all illustrate some singular
incident or adventure. Here, for example, is a water-colour sketch of a
rent and collapsed balloon falling to the earth from a height that must
be appalling, if we are to accept as faithfully represented the neutral
tones and dwarfed dimensions of the several features of the landscape
that occupies the lower half of the picture. And next it we observe a
very powerfully executed oil painting representing a schooner-yacht,
with topmasts struck and all other top-hamper down on deck, hove-to
under close-reefed storm-trysail and spitfire jib, in close proximity to
an evidently disabled and sinking ocean steamer, over whose more than
half-submerged hull the mountain seas are breaking with terrific
violence, sweeping away boats, hencoops, deck-fittings, bulwarks, and
even some of the unfortunate people, who are dimly seen through the
torrents of driving spray and cataracts of pouring water clinging here
and there to the stanchions and rigging: the fury of the gale in which
the great ship is perishing is admirably conveyed in the height and
shape of the huge olive-green seas, their crests torn off and swept away
to leeward in horizontal showers of spindrift, and the black, menacing
hue of the sky, across which tattered shreds of smoky-looking cloud are
careering wildly. And next to this, again, is a large water-colour,
admirably executed, representing a broad moon-lit river, concealed amid
the tall reeds of which a man is portrayed, picking off the game as it
comes down the opposite bank to drink, the character of the sportsman's
"bag" being indicated by several prone shapes that, indistinctly as they
are seen in the misty moonlight, yet admirably suggest the idea of slain
rhinoceros, buffalo, lion, and giraffe. And so on, all round the walls,
each picture in fact being a more or less truthful delineation of some
specially thrilling adventure experienced by a member of the club.
The Professor and the baronet, having entered the smoking-room, which
they found empty--as was quite usual at that hour of the day--selected
two of the capacious and exceedingly inviting-looking armchairs that
were scattered about the room; and, drawing them up to the fire--for the
weather was very bleak and chilly--ensconced themselves therein, and
settled themselves comfortably for a chat.
"Well, my dear Professor," began Sir Reginald, as he carefully selected
a cigar from a handsome and capacious case that he drew from his pocket,
"I need scarcely ask how you are, for you appear to be in superb
condition; but where have you been, and what doing, since we parted--
which is it, five or six years ago?"
"Rather over six years," answered the professor, in the strongly
German-accented English which he prided himself upon being
undistinguishable from the genuine British accent, but which it is not
necessary to inflict further upon the reader. "Rather over six years.
How time flies when a man is busy! Yet during those six years I have
done scarcely anything. Would you believe it? Beyond the writing of my
five-volume treatise on `Ancient Ophir: Its Geographical Situation, and
Story, as revealed in the Light of certain Recent Discoveries';
undergoing eighteen months' imprisonment in the fortress of Peter and
Paul, in Saint Petersburg, as a suspected Nihilist; and a two years'
fruitless exploration of central Mexico, I have done absolutely
nothing!"
Sir Reginald laughed heartily. "Upon my word, Professor, you are
insatiable," said he. "Why, the writing of your five-volume treatise--
which, by the way, I have read with the keenest enjoyment--should, of
itself, have found you ample occupation for those six years, one would
have supposed. But, not content with this, you have experienced for
eighteen months the manifold miseries of a Russian prison; and have
topped off with two years of wandering in Mexico--with more thrilling
adventures and hairbreadth escapes than you can count, I'll warrant--and
still you are not satisfied!"
"Ah, my friend," answered the professor, "it is all very well for you,
who have a lovely wife and a sweet little daughter, to laugh at me. But
I am a bachelor; I have no wife, no daughter, no domestic ties of any
sort to beguile my restless nature and render me content to settle down
in the monotonous placidity of a home; I must always be occupied in some
exciting pursuit, or I should go mad from very weariness and ennui; and
since our memorable cruise in your _Flying Fish_, I have been unable to
find anything exciting and adventurous enough to suit my taste. That
cruise has spoilt me for everything else, and I am sometimes inclined to
wish that I had never participated in it."
"Oh, but you must not feel like that," remonstrated Sir Reginald. "Why,
my dear sir, you were the backbone, the life and soul of the cruise!
Without you the whole thing would have been a dreary failure! Besides,
I want you to join us in another."
"What!" exclaimed von Schalckenberg, springing to his feet excitedly,
while his broad German visage fairly beamed with delight; "what!
Another cruise in the _Flying Fish_! My dear sir, of course I will join
you, with the greatest possible pleasure. But upon one condition," he
added, more soberly, and after a moment's reflection. "I am at present
engaged, as I told you a little while ago, upon the elaboration of a
colonisation scheme for the relief of those who, although perfectly
willing to work, find themselves unable to obtain employment in
consequence of the present overcrowded condition of every conceivable
avocation. I can see my way perfectly clearly up to a certain point;
but there I find myself brought to a standstill for want of means--for I
must tell you that although my colony, once fairly launched, would be
self-supporting, the launching of it would be a terribly expensive
operation. I therefore want money--or money's equivalent--as much as I
can get; and there are enormous sources of wealth accessible to the
_Flying Fish_, and to her alone; if, therefore, you will permit me to
avail myself of such opportunities to acquire wealth as may present
themselves during the progress of the cruise, I will join you with the
utmost pleasure. But, if not, I must remain where I am, and endeavour
to hatch out of my brain some other method of obtaining the means that I
require."
"No need for that, my dear fellow," exclaimed Sir Reginald. "If you
will but consent to become one of our party, you may make use of the
_Flying Fish_ exactly as if she were your own--with one reservation
only, namely, that you do not take us to a cold climate. This cruise is
projected especially with the object of restoring my daughter's health,
and I am informed that pure air and a genial climate are absolutely
necessary for this. But, keeping this in mind, you have my full
permission to map out our route yourself if you please."
"By no means," answered the professor. "That would be the height of
presumption on my part. The wishes and inclinations of all concerned
must be fully considered in the decision of so important a question.
But, of course, I shall be very happy to be allowed to offer
suggestions, or to afford any information that I may happen to possess
in relation to such localities as it may be proposed to visit. By the
way, how many shall we be, and who are the other members of the party?"
"I have not yet decided," answered Sir Reginald. "But I should
naturally prefer to have Lethbridge and Mildmay again, if I can find
them and induce them to join us. Indeed, it was with the object of
ascertaining whether I could learn any news of either of them and of
yourself that I called here to-day."
"Well," said the German, "I can tell you something about them both, for
I saw the colonel only a few days ago, here in town. I met him in the
Park. He was looking very ill, and in reply to my inquiries I learned
that he had been down with typhoid fever, and had only been up and out
again about a week. He said that he was trying to brace himself up to
go away somewhere for change of air, so I have no doubt that you will
find him more than willing to fall in with any proposal you may make to
him. As for Mildmay, I met a man here only yesterday who had seen him a
few days ago at Cowes, on board his yacht, which I understood he had
retained in commission all through the winter. But I also understood
that he was now about to lay her up; and, if so, you will probably find
him also disengaged. A letter addressed to him at the Royal Yacht
Squadron Club House will no doubt find him."
"I will write to him forthwith," said Sir Reginald. "And, by the way,
do you happen to know Lethbridge's address?"
"No, I do not," confessed the professor, apologetically; "but I dare say
we can discover it by inquiring of the steward, here; and if he does not
know it we shall perhaps be able to obtain it by inquiring at the Army
and Navy, of which he is a member."
It proved unnecessary, however, to seek so far, for, upon inquiry of the
steward of the Migrants', it was ascertained that Colonel Lethbridge had
dropped in at that club every evening regularly for the last four or
five days, and might be expected to put in an appearance there again on
that evening, a few hours later. Sir Reginald therefore wrote two
letters--one to the colonel, which he left in the hall letter-rack, and
one to Captain Mildmay, which he posted--setting forth the particulars
of his projected cruise, together with the information that von
Schalckenberg had consented to make one of the party; and concluding
with a cordial invitation to the individual addressed to join the
expedition as a guest. This done, he invited the professor to dine with
him that night and make the acquaintance of his little daughter, as well
as to afford an opportunity for the full discussion of the details of
the projected trip. On the following day, he journeyed down with his
wife and child to their magnificent Devonshire home, Chudleigh Park.