A STRANGE REVELATION
“In the name of the King!” cried Kearns, half indignantly, half amused.
“I’m sure I don’t understand what you’re driving at; but from that
badge I take it you represent the Law, and the Law I am always willing
to obey. I’ll go with you; but I warn you, you’ll suffer for this work!”
The two men made no reply to this threat, but placing themselves on
either side of him they marched out of the place, followed by the man
in uniform, with Dean in charge. As they passed along the street,
several loiterers and a number of small boys followed in their wake.
The prisoners seemed to arouse the greatest curiosity.
Their captors hurried them along at a rapid gait to a neat stone
building, with two imposing green lamps outside. Up a short flight of
stone steps the prisoners were hustled and into a spacious room, where
behind a large desk sat a man in uniform. Before the desk the party
lined up.
“Is this the Sergeant?” asked Kearns, surveying curiously the official
uniform.
“Lieutenant,” curtly answered the man behind the desk. “What’s the
charge?” he asked sharply, turning to the little man with the squint.
“Treasonable and seditious utterances in a public place, Lieutenant,”
answered the little man glibly. “Utterances in violation of the statute
and against the peace of His Majesty, the King, his crown and dignity.”
“Did you take exact note of these utterances?” asked the official.
“I did, Lieutenant.”
“Give them.”
In obedience to the command, the man gave a fairly faithful repetition
of the words uttered by the Professor in the bar-room.
He who was addressed as Lieutenant looked serious.
“Your name,” he demanded of Kearns.
“Thomas Kearns,” was the answer, impressively given; “and I’m chief of
detectives of the New York police.”
The Lieutenant glanced up quickly, with an astonished look.
“My name isn’t unfamiliar, perhaps,” continued Mr. Kearns with some
sarcasm.
The Lieutenant laughed softly.
“Yes,” he replied, “the name is familiar to me. So is that of Captain
Kidd, and other legendary heroes of the past. Thomas Kearns, eh? There
isn’t a small boy in the country who doesn’t know the name and who
hasn’t read of his exploits.”
For a moment Kearns stood silent, as if he hardly gathered the sense of
the words. Then his face flushed and he found voice.
“You talk about the past,” he said, in incisive tones. “I don’t
understand you. I am the Chief of the Department I have named--right
now--at this present moment; and that fact, I think, you’ll not find
disputed by any member of the Uniformed Force, be his rank what it may.
If you have any doubt, I would suggest that you telephone to Official
Headquarters in New York.”
“Telephone!” ejaculated the Lieutenant. Again he laughed amusedly.
“I said telephone,” retorted Kearns sharply. “Perhaps,” he added
scornfully, “you are not equipped with such an instrument here!”
“Scarcely,” answered the Lieutenant with a sniff, casting his eye
toward a handsome looking instrument at the further end of the room. “A
telephone, eh? Yes, I remember some time ago seeing one displayed as a
curiosity at the Eden Musee in New York. Quite an interesting antique!”
“Sir,” said Kearns sternly; “I haven’t time to bandy foolish words with
you. My friend and I are tired and we wish to go home at once. I want
to ask you what kind of a charge this is upon which your men have dared
to arrest two reputable citizens.”
“Unless the Medical Examiner declares them irresponsible,” answered the
Lieutenant sarcastically, “the two reputable citizens are likely to
find this matter pretty serious before they get through with it.”
“This is outrageous!” exclaimed Kearns, his anger rising. “Your
behavior, sir, is infamous. If you occupied a similar position in the
city to that which you do here, I would have you brought up on charges
and reduced to the ranks for such conduct.”
The Lieutenant paid no heed to this outbreak.
“Your residence?” he demanded in formal tones.
Before Kearns could reply, the door of the station-house was thrown
hurriedly open and a tall, portly man, with red face, iron gray hair
and side whiskers, bustled in. The Lieutenant turned his eyes toward
the new-comer and then raised his hand in military salute.
“Are these the prisoners?” asked the arrival, walking over to the desk.
“Yes, Colonel,” answered the Lieutenant.
“They were found on my estate?”
“No, Colonel; they were arrested at Tomlinson’s.”
“I understand; but they were originally found on my lands.”
“That I know nothing about, Colonel. I----”
“What do they say--what have you found out about them?” interrupted the
Colonel eagerly.
“Nothing as yet. I was about to take the record when you came in.”
“I will question them myself,” said the Colonel. He turned to the
prisoners. His manner betrayed a certain curiosity and eagerness, but
his tone was kindly and gentle.
“How did you come to be where you were found?” he asked.
“The confounded Doctor!” blurted out Kearns impatiently.
“The Doctor, eh!” exclaimed the Colonel with interest. “What doctor?
Tell me about him.”
“Well,” answered Kearns, hesitating, “the circumstances are somewhat
peculiar and I don’t know that either my friend or myself care to
figure as the heroes of a sensational newspaper story.”
“I beg you,” said the Colonel with great earnestness, “to speak out at
once. I believe it to be important--extremely important that you should
do so.”
Kearns still hesitated.
“Oh, tell the gentleman the state of the case, by all means,” exclaimed
the Professor. “I feel really quite tired and exhausted and am anxious
to get as quickly as possible out of this dilemma.”
“Tired--exhausted!” cried the Colonel. He turned to the Lieutenant.
“Give them chairs. If what I suspect be true, it is of the highest
importance that no mishap should occur to them!”
Chairs were procured for the two prisoners and, when they were seated,
Dean turned to his companion. “Speak out and end this situation,” he
again urged.
“All right,” assented Kearns. Without further delay he narrated their
experiences with the Doctor in the cave. The Colonel listened with
extraordinary interest.
“And so,” said Kearns in conclusion, “if this is really the month of
July, as I’ve been told, we must have slept, or been in a condition of
suspended animation, as that confounded Doctor called it, for a period
of six weeks. But, tell me, what is the date?”
But the Colonel, who was looking at the prisoners with absorbed
interest, did not answer. Instead, he put the following question,
bending forward in eager anxiety for the reply:
“Can you tell me the date when you went into that cave and entered into
that--ah--sleep you have described?”
“Certainly,” answered Kearns. “It was June the tenth.”
“June the tenth of what year?”
“June the tenth, nineteen hundred, of course.”
“What!”
“Whew!”
Both the Colonel and the Lieutenant uttered exclamations. The Colonel
was red and excited; the Lieutenant half rose from his seat behind the
desk. The prisoners stared in astonishment. What could there be so very
extraordinary in the simple statement they had made?
There was a dead pause for a moment. Then the Colonel again turned to
the Lieutenant.
“This is certainly very strange--very wonderful,” he said. “They must
be taken in hand pending developments. Care must be taken of them--that
they do not succumb----”
“What is so strange--what is it that is so wonderful?” broke in the
Professor.
But the Colonel disregarded the question.
“I will take them with me--to my place,” he continued, addressing the
Lieutenant. “They will be properly cared for there.”
“But the charge! How about the charge which has been preferred against
them?”
“As a county magistrate, I am empowered to admit them to bail.”
“That’s true, Colonel.”
“Let the charge stand. For the time being, I permit them to go on their
own recognizance. I will take care of them.”
“Very well, Colonel. Will you please sign the necessary papers?”
“Yes; give them to me.”
The Lieutenant handed the Colonel a paper and a pen and the latter
hastily scratched a signature. Then he turned to Kearns and the
Professor.
“Come with me,” he said.
But Kearns demurred.
“Will you excuse me, Colonel,” he said; “but both my friend and myself
want to go without further delay to our own place. We’ve not the
advantage of your acquaintance, and I’m sure I don’t understand the
meaning of these proceedings.”
“You’ve been arrested on a serious charge,” said the Colonel gravely,
but with good humor, “and you’re practically parolled in my custody.
I don’t see what you can very well do, except take advantage of my
hospitality, or adopt the unpleasant alternative of a cell.”
“But,” began Kearns with indignation, “I must assure you that----”
“I beg you not to excite yourselves,” exclaimed the Colonel, as one
might seek to quiet a fractious child. “It might be very bad for
you--even fatal, under the circumstances. No one can tell what might
happen, I assure you! Be content to come with me.”
“Let us go with the gentleman,” urged the Professor.
“Oh, very well,” answered Kearns. “I have no objection to seeing the
adventure through to the end.”
“Come, Bowman, come, Walker,” said the Colonel, turning to the
cross-eyed man and his companion; “assist them to my phaeromobile.”
“I don’t think we need assistance, thank you,” said the Professor,
rising and waving away the tall dark man.
“Assistance, indeed!” exclaimed Kearns as he repulsed the cross-eyed
man. “I should say not!”
“But you might fall! Pray be careful!” urged the Colonel with officious
kindness.
“I may if I don’t get something to eat pretty soon,” laughed Kearns.
“Yes; it is certainly high time we ate,” declared the Professor.
“Ah, just as I feared!” remarked the Colonel anxiously.
By this time they had passed through the door of the station-house.
Outside stood one of those curious looking machines which Kearns and
the Professor had seen rushing past them on the highway. On the front
seat sat a man, apparently the driver. Behind him, in the body of the
vehicle, were seats for four persons.
“Step in,” said the Colonel cheerily. Turning to the cross-eyed man and
his companion, he added warningly:
“Keep your mouths closed as to this matter. Not a word for the
present!”
The two men thus addressed clicked their heels together and saluted.
“Home,” said the Colonel to the driver, stepping into the vehicle, “but
not too fast!”
The driver saluted, turned a lever and they were off.
“And now for a few words of explanation,” said Kearns to the Colonel.
“Not a word, my good friends,” said the Colonel with soothing
patronage, “until you are thoroughly restored--invigorated--out of
danger!”
“Out of danger?” exclaimed Kearns mystified.
“What may be your meaning, sir?” inquired the Professor.
Both stared at him as if he were a good-natured lunatic.
“After six weeks of fasting,” said the Colonel diplomatically, “a man
should be willing to go quietly to a meal, I think.”
They had passed beyond the limits of the town and, having reached the
highway, were flying along at a rapid rate. Such was their speed that
Kearns and the Professor were not loth to hold their tongues and attend
to the matter of breathing. Along the road they flew, finally turning
down a side road and drawing up in front of an ornamented iron gate,
opened to them by a lodge keeper; then down a winding path, bordered
by trees, until they stopped before the steps of a stately house. The
Colonel stepped out of the vehicle.
“Welcome to Idleslip!” he said as he politely assisted them to alight.
He led the way up the steps, across a spacious foyer and turned into
one of the rooms to the left. Drawing up two comfortable armchairs, he
motioned them to be seated.
“Do you feel very weak?” he inquired with anxious concern. “Shall I
order you some refreshment, or don’t you think it would be better to
wait for the doctor?”
“Doctor!” cried Kearns. “I thank you. I have had all the doctor I want
for some time to come.”
“Doctor!” exclaimed the Professor, who regarded the question in a
different light. “Let us cease playing at cross-purposes. May I ask you
frankly, sir, why you think we need a physician?”
“Pray calm yourselves,” urged the Colonel soothingly, “or, as I have
already warned you, no one can foresee the results! See a doctor? Why
not! After your remarkable--I may say, indeed, very extraordinary
experiences----”
“You refer to our sleep in the cave?” interposed the Professor. “By the
way, is it really possible that we have slept six weeks? What is the
date?”
“No, no,” protested the Colonel. “Don’t seek any explanation now. Wait
until later.”
“But this delay is exasperating,” persisted the Professor. “All these
strange happenings--this mystery--play upon my nerves! I must insist
upon an immediate explanation. I must ask you, Colonel--Colonel--pardon
me, but what is the name?”
“I am Colonel, Sir Maynard Cuming.”
“_Sir_ Maynard Cuming!” repeated Kearns mystified.
“_Sir_ Maynard Cuming!” exclaimed the Professor, passing his hand over
his eyes. “Let me ask you--is this the Republic of the United States,
or have we in our sleep, or trance, been spirited into some foreign
land?”
“The Republic of the United States?” said the Colonel with a curious
smile; “Well--no!”
Kearns and the Professor rose to their feet. Kearns’ eyes were
dilated, his hands clenched. The Professor was very pale.
“Speak!” he said. “What country is this and--the date--what?”
“Be calm,” urged the Colonel. “It’s not well you should be told these
things now. Wait until later!”
The Professor advanced a step and spoke with all the concentrated
energy of a thoroughly aroused man.
“Tell me the truth now,” he said, “or I’ll leave at once and seek it
elsewhere.”
The Colonel realized the situation had reached a climax. Something must
be done.
“Since you will have it so,” he replied gravely, “I will answer you.
Prepare yourselves to hear calmly, bravely.”
“Go on!” cried Kearns breathlessly.
“You are at present,” answered the Colonel, speaking very slowly and
distinctly, “upon my estate at Idleslip, seven miles from the county
seat of Pemberton. You are in the Empire of the United States, within
the realm of His Majesty, Imperial and Royal, William the First,
Emperor of the United States, King of the Empire State of New York!”
His two auditors were staring at him wide-eyed, speechless. It was
difficult to decide whether they took in the full sense of his words.
“The date,” continued the Colonel with enforced calm, “is July the
twenty-fifth, nineteen hundred and seventy-five. You say you entered
the cave June tenth, nineteen hundred. If your statement is correct,
you have been in a state of suspended animation for seventy-five
years!”