The Will of the Masters
“Lord have mercy on me, if it ain’t Harkness! And Rawson, too!” cried
Stranahan, leaping to his feet, and seizing our hands in a hearty grip.
“By all things holy, I thought I’d never see you again!”
For a moment we were unable to reply, so great was the confusion of
shouts, greetings, and excited questionings from our four new-found
companions. Though we were fully as delighted as they, our first words
came in inchoate, mumbled phrases, for our surprise was apparently even
greater than theirs.
“Well, and what are you doing in this part of the country?” Stranahan
at length inquired, with a smile. “I thought you were safe in the old
X-111.”
“Nothing is safe in the X-111,” I replied. “Captain Gavison sent us out
after you when you didn’t come back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” declared Stranahan, ruefully. “You know I
hate to disobey orders, but I’m afraid I’ll have to. We won’t be coming
back just yet.”
“What makes you think that?” I demanded, with sudden misgivings.
“I don’t think it--I know it,” he maintained, with an air of certainty.
And, leaning on one foot against a marble column while his brawny hand
stroked his chin, he continued, ruminatingly, “Suffering sea snakes, do
you take me for a fool? Do you think I’d be here if I could find a way
out?”
“But can’t you?” I questioned, innocently.
“No, by the devil, I can’t!” he swore. “Neither can you! We’re all
prisoners here!”
“What? Prisoners in this building?” I gasped.
“No, not in this building! In this town!” corrected Stranahan.
“In this town?” Despite my agitation, I began to laugh. “This town
makes a fair-sized jail.”
“You won’t think so for long!” warned Stranahan, with all the fury of
conviction. “The Lord strike my heart from my breast if I ever saw a
deader place--except maybe my own home town on Sunday afternoons!”
Following this outburst, Stranahan recounted his recent experiences,
which were not altogether different from our own. Like us, he and
Ripley had reached the city following an ambling excursion among the
outlying colonnades and temples; but unlike us, they had not been so
unfortunate as to be trapped in one of the buildings. In fact, they
had suffered a different misfortune entirely. Upon entering the city,
they had been confronted by several of the natives; and, surmising that
these strange beings were hostilely disposed, the terrified Stranahan
had whipped out his revolver and fired toward the crowd. So far as was
known, no one had been injured, but all had been badly frightened by
the report; and for a while, the two seamen had had the freedom of the
town.
They were ultimately stopped, however, by a band of determined-looking
natives. Though apparently unarmed, and though they used no violence,
these men overpowered the intruders in some inexplicable way. Not only
were Stranahan and Ripley deprived of their pistols, but they were
rendered docile as children, and were conducted, as we had been, to the
place of amber and sapphire, where a hundred pale-robed individuals
debated and passed on their fate. Next they were brought to their
present dwelling, where they were clothed and fed, and where they were
reunited with Stangale and Howlett, who had preceded them to the city.
They had now been living here for several days, and during that time
had been treated with unexpected civility and kindness and even allowed
to roam at will through the city; but whenever they had approached
the boundaries of the town, they had encountered a band of citizens
who, by shouts and gestures and a mysterious but irresistible power of
suggestion, had given them to understand that they were not to leave.
Stranahan was approaching the end of his recital, and was telling
us how he had been compelled to wear the native costume and how his
meals had been brought to him regularly twice each day, when he was
interrupted by the entrance of several natives, who had been looking
for us in the adjoining room and seemed a little annoyed at our
disappearance. Unceremoniously they led us back to the other apartment,
where the half dozen robes were lying in wait for us; and, perceiving
from their gestures that we would do well to don the native garb,
I promptly arrayed myself in a gown of pale lavender, while Rawson
exchanged his sailor’s suit for a costume of daintiest yellow. Both of
us had difficulty in adjusting the garments, which were fastened at the
shoulder by a fish-bone device resembling a safety-pin; and we had our
hesitation about the sandals, which were slipped on at a stroke and
yet were held firmly in place by inconspicuous cords. But though we
puzzled over our new apparel for many minutes, Rawson found in the end
that he had his on inside out, while the front of mine was where the
rear should have been. Of course, we did not discover these mistakes
for ourselves. Our attendants, on returning to see us fully attired,
indicated the errors with smiles and suppressed laughter; and with
their aid, we managed to array ourselves almost like self-respecting
natives.
* * * * *
Fortunately, we had little time just then to notice how ridiculous
we looked in our colored gowns. As soon as the perplexing business
of dressing was settled, one of the men motioned me to a sofa in a
corner of the room, where he took a seat beside me as though for some
important purpose; and a second similarly led Rawson to an opposite
corner, while the other natives unceremoniously took their leave. My
particular attendant, who was a tall man, neither young nor old, with
classic features and keen but kindly gray eyes peering from beneath
a wide expanse of forehead, now began to go through a series of
apparently meaningless gestures, accompanied by no less meaningless
words. First he would tap his head while emitting a peculiar sound;
then he would tap his breast while emitting another peculiar sound;
then he would touch his arm, his knee, his foot, always slowly and
carefully pronouncing one or two unintelligible syllables. In the
beginning, I was inclined to wonder whether he was not mad, but this
view was not furthered by the discovery that Rawson’s attendant
was conducting a similar performance. It was doubtless only my own
stupidity that prevented me from grasping the truth immediately. At
length my companion drew a small pad of paper from his pocket and began
to write upon it with an instrument resembling a fountain pen, and
I understood clearly enough then that he was trying to teach me his
language; so I gave him my undivided attention, noting carefully each
object he touched and the corresponding sounds, and noted particularly
the characters he jotted down upon the paper.
Then suddenly I saw light amid the darkness! Although this was but my
first lesson, I was making faster progress than either of us could have
anticipated--my knowledge of ancient Greek was proving invaluable!
At the first glance, I observed the resemblance between the letters
my instructor was inditing and those of the old Greek, even as I had
noticed the resemblance on the stone inscriptions; and it was not many
minutes before I discovered that some of the words, although not to be
recognized when pronounced, were written in a style closely similar to
the Greek, and were obviously built upon Greek roots. This was not true
of all the words, but it was true of such a large percentage, that I
had hopes of soon being able to speak the language and so to solve the
mystery of this fantastic deep-sea people.
After about two hours, my instructor rose from his seat, shoved the pad
of paper back into his pocket, and indicated that our lessons were over
for the day. But he smiled upon me graciously, as though to indicate
that I was a not unpromising pupil; and he spoke a word which I thought
I recognized as “Tomorrow,” after which he saluted me with a courteous
wave of the hand, and joining Rawson’s instructor, went ambling
leisurely out of view.
It was with a wry smile that Rawson rejoined me. “Say, did you get
anything out of it at all?” he inquired. “I just couldn’t make head or
tail of it. Heavens, at this rate it would take me ten years to learn
my A, B, C’s!”
I did not confide that I had private reasons for feeling more
optimistic than my friend. But, after I had offered to help and was
rejected, I was content to let the conversation drift to other subjects.
Rawson was now annoyingly given to useless lamentations. Hotly he
deplored our plight; he declared that he no longer saw anything
romantic about it, and least of all perceived anything romantic about
being made to go to school again; and he reminded me time after time
of Captain Gavison and the crew, whom we had last seen stranded in the
wilderness with the disabled X-111, and who were no doubt awaiting
our return in hope that was fast giving way to despair. Though I did
not share in Rawson’s dislike of our present quarters, and though I
was deterred from leaving, not only by hopes of learning the language
but by thoughts of the nameless fair one, yet I had to listen when
Rawson spoke of our duty to our waiting comrades; and, in spite of
the forbidding precedent set by Stranahan and Ripley, I could not but
consent to try to return to our shipmates.
As the doors of our dwelling were wide open and there was no one to
interfere with us, we sauntered forthwith into the streets. As usual,
we found them almost deserted, and so had no hesitation in proceeding
along the winding walks and broad avenues and past the innumerable
terraces, courts and temples in the direction from which we had entered
the city. As the various distinctive gardens and palaces constituted
unmistakable landmarks, we were seldom at a loss as to our route, and
in little more than half an hour we found ourselves at the threshold
of the town, before that odd statue-like edifice where we had been
imprisoned. The path of escape now seemed open, and our flight appeared
so easy that we paused momentarily, almost with misgivings at having
encountered no obstacles. But not a person was in sight, and no sign of
any impediment was visible, and so in surprise we started up that slope
which led to the colonnades and outlying temples.
We had almost reached the top, and I was already deep in regrets at
leaving this charming city just as it was becoming so interesting,
when half a score of pale-gowned individuals suddenly appeared from
above the ridge, their vociferous cries and commanding gestures warning
us back. They carried no weapon, yet they could not have been more
imperious had they borne loaded rifles; there seemed almost to be some
hidden compulsion, some irresistible magnetism about them, so that our
weak wills quailed and bowed to theirs, and we retreated before them
as impulsively as a singed animal retreats before fire. I do not know
why it was, for they surely would not have set violent hands upon us;
but we no more thought of disobeying them than a trained dog thinks of
disobeying its master; and back to the city we hastened, while they
followed on our heels with faces stern and set; and, having re-entered
the town, we made our way directly to the building we had just left,
as though some superior mind controlled our movements and we were no
longer free.
Upon our return, we met with another surprise. Naturally, we were
prompted to seek Stranahan and our three other shipmates again; but we
had expected that they would be occupied, as before, by cards or some
other time-killing game. Instead, we found them seated in the four
corners of the room, each with a companion (needless to say, a native);
and from the peculiar gestures of those companions and their habit of
writing occasionally on pads of paper, we recognized that they were
giving instructions in the language of the land. But this in itself
was not the surprising fact. Two of the four newcomers were ladies,
one of them being of matronly years; but the other, who sat opposite
Stranahan, smilingly making notes with her pen, was not only in the
full bloom of youth, but had that singularly sweet cast of countenance,
those singularly clear and magnetic large blue eyes, which could belong
to only one woman in the world!
* * * * *
[Illustration: ... Beneath us, at a distance that may have been five
hundred feet and may have been a thousand, the vaults and domes and
columns of innumerable stone edifices shone palely and with sallow
luster. Surely, we thought, this was some unheard-of Athens, doomed
long ago by tidal wave or volcano ... Palace after magnificent palace,
many seemingly modelled by architects of old Greece, went gliding by
beneath us; countless statues, tall as the buildings, pointed up at us
with hands that were uncannily life-like; wide avenue after wide avenue
flashed by, and one or two colossal theatres of Grecian design ...]
* * * * *