Early dawn peered through the dark sky like the silvery light of a pale
lamp carried by an advancing watchman,--and faintly illumined the
outline of a long, high, vastly extending wooden building which, at
about a mile distant from Morgana's "palazzo" ran parallel with the
sea-shore. The star-sparkle of electric lamps within showed it to be
occupied--and the murmur of men's voices and tinkle of working tools
suggested that the occupants were busy. The scarcely visible sea made
pleasant little kissing murmurs on the lip-edges of the sand, and
Nature, drowsing in misty space, seemed no more than the formless void
of the traditional beginning of things.
Outside the building which, by its shape, though but dimly defined
among shadows, was easily recognisable as a huge aerodrome, the tall
figure of Giulio Rivardi paced slowly up and down like a sentinel on
guard. He, whose Marquisate was inherited from many noble Sicilian
houses renowned in Caesar's day, apparently found as much satisfaction
in this occupation as any warrior of a Roman Legion might have
experienced in guarding the tent of his Emperor,--and every now and
then he lifted his eyes to the sky with a sense of impatience at the
slowness of the sun's rising. In his mind he reviewed the whole chapter
of events which during the past three years had made him the paid
vassal of a rich woman's fancy--his entire time taken up, and all the
resources of his inventive and artistic nature (which were
exceptionally great) drawn upon for the purpose of carrying out designs
which at first seemed freakish and impossible, but which later
astonished him by the extraordinary scientific acumen they displayed,
as well as by their adaptability to the forces of nature. Then, the
money!--the immense sums which this strange creature, Morgana Royal,
had entrusted to him!--and with it all, the keen, business aptitude she
had displayed, knowing to a centime how much she had spent, though
there seemed no limit to how much she yet intended to spend! He looked
back to the time he had first seen her, when on visiting Sicily
apparently as an American tourist only, she had taken a fancy to a
ruined "palazzo" once an emperor's delight, but crumbling slowly away
among its glorious gardens, and had purchased the whole thing then and
there. Her guide to the ruins at that period had been Don Aloysius, a
learned priest, famous for his archaeological knowledge--and it was
through Don Aloysius that he, the Marchese Rivardi, had obtained the
commission to restore to something of its pristine grace and beauty the
palace of ancient days. And now everything was done, or nearly done;
but much more than the "palazzo" had been undertaken and completed, for
the lady of many millions had commanded an air-ship to be built for her
own personal use and private pleasure with an aerodrome for its safe
keeping and anchorage. This airship was the crux of the whole business,
for the men employed to build it were confident that it would never
fly, and laughed with one another as they worked to carry out a woman's
idea and a woman's design. How could it fly without an engine?--they
very sensibly demanded,--for engine there was none! However, they were
paid punctually and most royally for their labours; and when, despite
their ominous predictions, the ship was released on her trial trip,
manipulated by Giulio Rivardi, who ascended in her alone, sailing the
ship with an ease and celerity hitherto unprecedented, they were more
scared than enthusiastic. Surely some devil was in it!--for how could
the thing fly without any apparent force to propel it? How was it that
its enormous wings spread out on either side as by self-volition and
moved rhythmically like the wings of a bird in full flight? Every man
who had worked at the design was more or less mystified. They had,
according to plan and instructions received, "plumed" the airship for
electricity in a new and curious manner, but there was no battery to
generate a current. Two small boxes or chambers, made of some
mysterious metal which would not "fuse" under the strongest heat, were
fixed, one at either end of the ship;--these had been manufactured
secretly in another country and sent to Sicily by Morgana herself,--but
so far, they contained nothing. They seemed unimportant--they were
hardly as large as an ordinary petrol-can holding a gallon. When
Rivardi had made a trial ascent he had inserted in each of these boxes
a cylindrical tube made to fit an interior socket as a candle fits into
a candle-stick,--all the workmen watched him, waiting for a revelation,
but he made none. He was only particular and precise as to the firm
closing down of the boxes when the tubes were in. And then in a few
minutes the whole machine began to palpitate noiselessly like a living
thing with a beating heart,--and to the amazement and almost fear of
all who witnessed what seemed to be a miracle, the ship sprang up like
a bird springing from the ground, and soared free and away into space,
its vast white wings cleaving the air with a steady rise and fall of
rhythmic power. Once aloft she sailed in level flight, apparently at
perfect ease--and after several rapid "runs," and circlings, descended
slowly and gracefully, landing her pilot without shock or jar. He was
at once surrounded and was asked a thousand questions which it was
evident he could not answer.
"How can I tell!" he replied, to all interrogations. "The secret is the
secret of a woman!"
A woman! Man's pretty toy!--man's patient slave! How should a woman
master any secret! Engineers and mechanics laughed scornfully and
shrugged their shoulders--yet--yet--the great airship stared them in
the face as a thing created,--a thing of such power and possibility as
seemed wholly incredible. And now the creator,--the woman--had
arrived,--the woman whose rough designs on paper had been carefully
followed and elaborated into actual shape;--and there was a tense state
of expectation among all the workers awaiting her presence. Meanwhile
the lantern-gleam in the sky broadened and the web of mist which veiled
the sea began to lift and Giulio Rivardi, pacing to and fro, halted
every now and then to look in the direction of a path winding downward
from the mainland to the shore, in watchful expectation of seeing an
elfin figure, more spiritlike than mortal, floating towards him through
the dividing vapours of the morning. The words of Don Aloysius haunted
him strangely, though his common sense sharply rejected the fantastic
notions to which they had given rise. She,--Morgana Royal,--was "not
capable" of love, the priest had implied,--and yet, at times--only at
times,--she seemed eminently lovable. At times,--again, only at
times--he was conscious of a sweeping passion of admiration for her
that well-nigh robbed him of his self-control. But a strong sense of
honour held him in check--he never forgot that he was her paid employe,
and that her wealth was so enormous that any man presuming too
personally upon her indulgence could hardly be exonerated from ulterior
sordid aims. And while he mused, somewhat vexedly, on all the
circumstances of his position, the light widened in the heavens,
showing the very faintest flush of rose in the east as an indication of
the coming sun. He lifted his eyes....
"At last!" he exclaimed, with relief, as he saw a small gliding shadow
among shadows approaching him,--he figure of Morgana so wrapped in a
grey cloak and hood as to almost seem part of the slowly dispersing
mists of the morning. She pushed back the hood as she came near,
showing a small eager white face in which the eyes glittered with an
almost unearthly brightness.
"I have slept till now,"--she said--"Imagine!--all night through
without waking! So lazy of me!--but the long rest has done me good and
I'm ready for anything! Are you? You look very solemn and morose!--like
a warrior in bronze! Anything gone wrong?"
"Not that I am aware of"--he replied--"The men are finishing some small
detail of ornament. I have only looked in to tell them you are coming."
"And are they pleased?"
"Madama, they are not of a class to be either pleased or
displeased"--he said--"They are instructed to perform certain work, and
they perform it. In all that they have been doing for you, according to
your orders, I truly think they are more curious than interested."
A streak of rose and silver flared through the sky flushing the pallor
of Morgana's face as she lifted it towards him, smiling.
"Quite natural!" she said--"No man is ever 'interested' in woman's
work, but he is always 'curious.' Woman is a many-cornered maze--and
man is always peeping round one corner or another in the hope to
discover her--but he never does!"
Rivardi gave an almost imperceptible shrug.
"Never?" he queried.
"Never!" she affirmed, emphatically--"Don't be sarcastic, amico!--even
in this dim morning light I can see the scornful curve of your upper
lip!--you are really very good-looking, you know!--and you imply the
same old Garden of Eden story of man giving away woman as a wholly
incomprehensible bad job! Adam flung her back as a reproach to her
Creator--'the woman thou gavest me;'--oh, that woman and that apple!
But he had to confess 'I did eat.' He always eats,--he eats everything
woman can give him--he will even eat HER if he gets the chance!" She
laughed and pointed to the brightening sky. "See? ''Tis almost
morning!' as Shakespeare's Juliet remarked--but I would not 'have thee
gone'--not unless I go also. Whither shall we fly?"
He looked at her, moved as he often was by a thrill of admiration and
wonder.
"It is for you to decide"--he answered--"You know best the
possibilities-and the risks---"
"I know the possibilities perfectly,"--she said--"But I know nothing of
risks--there are none. This is our safety"--and she drew out from the
folds of her cloak, two small packets of cylindrical form--"This
emanation of Nature's greatest force will keep us going for a year if
needful! Oh man!--I do not mean YOU particularly, but man
generally!--why could you not light on this little, little clue!--why
was it left to a woman! Come!--let us see the White Eagle in its
nest,--it shall spread its wings and soar to-day--we will give it full
liberty!"
The dawn was spreading in threads of gold and silver and blue all over
the heavens, and the sea flushed softly under the deepening light, as
she went towards the aerodrome, he walking slowly by her side.
"Are you so sure?" he said--"Will you not risk your life in this
attempt?"
She stopped abruptly.
"My life? What is it? The life of a midge in the sun! It is no good to
me unless I do something with it! I would live for ever if I
could!--here, on this dear little ball of Earth--I do not want a better
heaven. The heaven which the clergy promise us is so remarkably
unattractive! But I run no risk of losing my life or yours in our
aerial adventures; we carry the very essence of vitality with us.
Come!--I want to see my flying palace! When I was a small child I used
to feed my fancy on the 'Arabian Nights,' and most dearly did I love
the story of Aladdin and his palace that was transported through the
air. I used to say 'I will have a flying palace myself!' And now I have
realised my dream."
"That remains to be proved"--said Rivardi--"With all our work we may
not have entirely carried out your plan."
"If not, it will HAVE to be carried out"--returned Morgana,
tranquilly--"There is no reason, moral or scientific, why it should NOT
be carried out--we have all the forces of Nature on our side."
He was silent, and accompanied her as she walked to the aerodrome and
entered it. There were half a dozen or more men within, all
working--but they ceased every movement as they saw her,--while she, on
her part, scarcely seemed to note their presence. Her eyes were
uplifted and fixed on a vast, smooth oblong object, like the body of a
great bird with shut wings, which swung from the roof of the aerodrome
and swayed lightly to and fro as though impelled by some mysterious
breathing force. Morgana's swift glance travelled from its one end to
the other with a flash of appreciation, while at the same time she
received the salutations of all the men who advanced to greet her.
"You have done well, my friends!"--she said, speaking in fluent
French--"This beautiful creature you have made seems a perfect
thing,--from the OUTSIDE. What of the interior?"
A small, dark, intelligent looking man, in evident command of the rest,
smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"Ah, Signora! It is as you commanded!" he answered--"It is
beautiful--like a chrysalis for a butterfly. But a butterfly has the
advantage--it comes to LIFE, to use its wings!"
"Quite true, Monsieur Gaspard!" and Morgana gave him a smile as sunny
as his own. "But what is life? Is it not a composition of many
elements? And should we not learn to combine such elements to vitalise
our 'White Eagle'? It is possible!"
"With God all things are possible!" quoted the Marchese Rivardi--"But
with man--"
"We are taught that God made man 'in His image. In the image of God
created He him.' If this is true, all things should be possible to
man"--said Morgana, quietly--"To man,--and to that second thought of
the Creator--Woman! And we mustn't forget that second thoughts are
best!" She laughed, while the man called Gaspard stared at her and
laughed also for company. "Now let me see how I shall be housed in
air!" and with very little assistance she climbed into the great
bird-shaped vessel through an entrance so deftly contrived that it was
scarcely visible,--an entrance which closed almost hermetically when
the ship was ready to start, air being obtained through other channels.
Once inside it was easy to believe in Fairyland. Not a scrap of any
sort of mechanism could be seen. There were two exquisitely furnished
saloons--one a kind of boudoir or drawing-room where everything that
money could buy or luxury suggest as needful or ornamental was
collected and arranged with thoughtful selection and perfect taste. A
short passage from these apartments led at one end to some small,
daintily fitted sleeping-rooms beyond,--at the other was the steering
cabin and accommodation for the pilot and observer. The whole interior
was lined with what seemed to be a thick rose-coloured silk of a
singularly smooth and shining quality, but at a sign from Morgana,
Rivardi and Gaspard touched some hidden spring which caused this
interior covering to roll up completely, thus disclosing a strange and
mysterious "installation" beneath. Every inch of wall-space was fitted
with small circular plates of some thin, shining substance, set close
together so that their edges touched, and in the center of each plate
or disc was a tiny white knob resembling the button of an ordinary
electric bell. There seemed to be at least two or three thousand of
these discs--seen all together in a close mass they somewhat resembled
the "suckers" on the tentacles of a giant octopus. Morgana, seating
herself in an easy chair of the richly carpeted "drawing-room" of her
"air palace," studied every line, turn and configuration of this
extraordinary arrangement with a keenly observant and criticising eye.
The Marchese Rivardi and Gaspard watched her expression anxiously.
"You are satisfied?" asked Rivardi, at last--"It is as you planned?"
She turned towards Gaspard with a smile.
"What do YOU think about it?" she queried--"You are an expert in modern
scientific work--you understand many of the secrets of natural
force--what do YOU think?"
"Madama, I think as I have always thought!--a body without soul!"
"What IS soul?" she said--"Is it not breath?--the breath of life? Is it
not said that God 'made man of the dust of the ground and breathed into
his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living soul!' And what
is the breath of life? Is it not composed of such elements as are in
the universe and which we may all discover if we will, and use to our
advantage? You cannot deny this! Come, Marchese!--and you, Monsieur
Gaspard! Call to them below to set this Eagle free; we will fly into
the sunrise for an hour or two,--no farther, as we are not provisioned."
"Madama!" stammered Gaspard--"I am not prepared--"
"You are frightened, my friend!" and Morgana smiled, laying her little
white hand soothingly on his arm--"But if I tell you there is no cause
for fear, will you not believe me? Do you not think I love my own life?
Oh yes, I love it so much that I seek to prolong it, not risk it by
sudden loss. Nor would I risk YOUR life--or HIS!" and she looked
towards Rivardi--"HE is not frightened--he will come with me wherever I
go! Now, Monsieur Gaspard, see! Here is our breath of life!" And she
held up before his eyes the two cylindrically shaped packages she had
previously shown to Rivardi--"The Marchese has already had some
experience of it"--here she unfastened the wrappings of the packages,
and took out two tubes made of some metallic substance which shone like
purest polished gold--"I will fix these in myself--will you open the
lower end chamber first, please?"
Silently the two men obeyed her gesture and opened the small
compartment fixed at what might be called the hull end of the air-ship.
The interior was seen to be lined with the same round discs which
covered the walls of the vessel, every disc closely touching its
neighbour. With extreme caution and delicacy Morgana set one of the
tubes she held upright in the socket made to receive it, and as she did
this, fine sharp, needle like flashes of light broke from it in a
complete circle, filling the whole receptacle with vibrating rays which
instantly ran round each disc, and glittered in and out among them like
a stream of quicksilver. As soon as this manifestation occurred,
Morgana beckoned to her two assistants to shut the compartment. They
did so with scarcely an effort, yet it closed down with a silent force
and tenacity that suggested some enormous outward pressure, yet
pressure there seemed none. And now a sudden throbbing movement
pulsated through the vessel--its huge folded wings stirred.
"Quick! Tell them below to lose no time! Open the shed and let her
rise!--when the contact is once established there will not be half a
second to spare!"
Hurriedly the man Gaspard, though obviously terrified, shouted the
necessary orders, while Morgana went to the other end of the ship where
Rivardi opened for her the second compartment into which she fixed the
second tube. Once again the circular flashes broke out, but this time
directly the compartment was closed down, the shining stream of light
was seen to run rapidly and completely round the interior of the
vessel, touching every disc that lined the walls as with the sparkling
point of a jewel. The wings of the ship palpitated as with life and
began to spread open....
"Let her go!" cried Morgana--"Away to your place, pilot!" and she waved
a commanding hand as Rivardi sprang to the steering gear--"Hold her
fast! ... Keep her steady! Straight towards the sun-rise!"
As she spoke, a wonderful thing happened--every disc that lined the
interior of the ship started throbbing like a pulse,--every little
white knob in the centre of each disc vibrated with an extraordinary
rapidity of motion which dazzled the eyes like the glittering of
swiftly falling snow, and Gaspard, obeying Morgana's sign, drew down at
once all the rose silk covering which completely hid the strange
mechanism from view. There was absolutely no noise in this intense
vibration,--and there was no start or jar, or any kind of difficulty,
when the air-ship, released from bondage, suddenly rose, and like an
actual living bird sprang through the vast opening gateway of the
aerodrome and as it sprang, spread out its wings as though by its own
volition. In one moment, it soared straight upright, far far into
space, and the men who were left behind stood staring amazedly after
it, themselves looking no more than tiny black pin-heads down
below,--then, with a slow diving grace it righted itself as it were,
and as if it had of its own will selected the particular current of air
on which to sail. It travelled with a steady swiftness in absolute
silence,--its great wings moved up and down with a noiseless power and
rhythm for which there seemed no possible explanation,--and Morgana
turned her face, now delicately flushed with triumph, on the pale and
almost breathless Gaspard, smiling as she looked at him, her eyes
questioning his. He seemed stricken dumb with astonishment,--his lips
moved, but no word issued from them.
"You believe me now, do you not?" she said--"We have nothing further to
do but to steer. The force we use re-creates itself as it works--it
cannot become exhausted. To slow down and descend to earth one need
only open the compartments at either end--then the vibration grows less
and less, and like a living creature the 'White Eagle' sinks gently to
rest. You see there is no cause for fear!"
While she yet spoke, the light of the newly risen sun bathed her in its
golden glory, the long dazzling beams filtering through mysterious
apertures inserted cunningly in the roof of the vessel and mingling
with the roseate hues of the silken sheathing that covered its walls.
So fired with light she looked ethereal--a very spirit of air or of
flame; and Rivardi, just able to see her from his steering place, began
to think there was some truth an the strange words of Don
Aloysius--"Sometimes in this wonderful world of ours beings are born
who are neither man nor woman and who partake of a nature that is not
so much human as elemental--or, might not one almost say atmospheric?"
At the moment Morgana seemed truly "atmospheric"--a small creature so
fine and fair as to almost suggest an evanescent form about to melt
away in mist. Some sudden thrill of superstitious fear moved Gaspard to
make the sign of the cross and mutter an "Ave,"--Morgana heard him and
smiled kindly.
"I am not an evil spirit, my friend!" she said--"You need not exorcise
me! I am nothing but a student with a little more imagination than is
common, and in the moving force which carries our ship along I am only
using a substance which, as our scientists explain, 'has an exceptional
capacity for receiving the waves of energy emanating from the sun and
giving them off.' On the 'giving off' of those waves we move--it is all
natural and easy, and, like every power existent in the universe, is
meant for our comprehension and use. You cannot say you feel any sense
of danger?--we are sailing with greater steadiness than any ship at
sea--there is scarcely any consciousness of movement--and without
looking out and down, we should not realise we are so far from earth.
Indeed we are going too far now--we do not realize our speed."
"Too far!" said Gaspard, nervously--"Madama, if we go too far we may
also go too high--we may not be able to breathe!..."
She laughed.
"That is a very remote possibility!" she said--"The waves of energy
which bear us along are concerned in our own life-supply,--they make
our air to breathe--our heat to warm. All the same it is time we
returned--we are not provisioned."
She called to Rivardi, and he, with the slightest turn of the wheel,
altered the direction in which the air-ship moved, so that it travelled
back again on the route by which it had commenced its flight. Soon,
very soon, the dainty plot of earth, looking no more than a gay
flower-bed, where Morgana's palazzo was situated, appeared below--and
then, acting on instructions, Gaspard opened the compartments at either
end of the vessel. The vibrating rays within dwindled by slow
degrees--their light became less and less intense--their vibration less
powerful,--till very gradually with a perfectly beautiful motion
expressing absolute grace and lightness the vessel descended towards
the aerodrome it had lately left, and all the men who were waiting for
its return gave a simultaneous shout of astonishment and admiration, as
it sank slowly towards them, folding its wings as it came with the
quiet ease of a nesting-bird flying home. So admirably was the distance
measured between itself and the great shed of its local habitation,
that it glided into place as though it had eyes to see its exact
whereabouts, and came to a standstill within a few seconds of its
arrival. Morgana descended, and her two companions followed. The other
men stood silent, visibly inquisitive yet afraid to express their
curiosity. Morgana's eyes flashed over them all with a bright,
half-laughing tolerance.
"I thank you, my friends!" she said--"You have done well the work I
entrusted you to do under the guidance of the Marchese Rivardi, and you
can now judge for yourselves the result It mystifies you I can see! You
think it is a kind of 'black magic'? Not so!--unless all our modern
science is 'black magic' as well, born of the influence of those evil
spirits who, as we are told in tradition, descended in rebellion from
heaven and lived with the daughters of men! From these strange lovers
sprang a race of giants,--symbolical I think of the birth of the
sciences, which mingle in their composition the active elements of good
and evil. You have built this airship of mine on lines which have never
before been attempted;--you have given it wings which are plumed like
the wings of a bird, not with quills, but with channels many and
minute, to carry the runlets of the 'emanation' from the substance held
in the containers at either end of the vessel,--its easy flight
therefore should not surprise you. Briefly--we have filled a piece of
mechanism with the composition or essence of Life!--that is the only
answer I can give to your enquiring looks!--let it be enough!"
"But, Madama"--ventured Gaspard--"that composition or essence of
Life!--what is it?"
There was an instant's silence. Every man's head craned forward eagerly
to hear the reply. Morgana smiled strangely.
"That," she said--"is MY secret!"