Over and above such matters as compression, carburation, oiling,
circulation of the water, etc., the trembler-blade and the sparking-plug
are the driver's especial cares. Should the regulating screw of the one
displace itself by the breadth of a hair, should the two opposed wires
of the other be touched by a drop of oil or a trace of oxide, the
miraculous horse will die on the spot. And around these are still many
organs whereof I dare scarcely permit myself to think. Yonder,
concealed in its case, like a furious genie confined in a narrow cell,
is the mysterious apparatus for the change of speed; and this, if you
give a turn to the lever when you come to the foot of a hill, will
produce repeated explosions, urging the piston to movement so frantic,
that every vertebra of the creature will tremble and give to the
slackening wheels a quadruple force before which each mountain will bend
its back, and carry the conqueror humbly to its very crown. Further
there is the enigmatic mechanism of the live axle which, dispensing with
chains and straps, transmits directly to the two back wheels all the
extraordinary power generated in its delirious heart. And still lower,
beneath the brake, there rests, in its almost inviolable box, the
transcendent secret of the _differentiator_, which, by means of a recent
miracle, permits two wheels of the same dimensions, revolving on the
same axle and moved by the same motor, to perform an unequal number of
turns!
V
But at present I have no concern with these mighty mysteries. Beneath my
tremulous hand the monster is alert and docile; and on either side of
the road the cornfields flow peacefully onward, true rivers of green.
The time has now come to try the power of esoteric action. I touch the
magical handles. The fairy horse obeys. It stops abruptly. One short
moan, and its life has all ebbed away. It is now nothing more than a
vast, inert mass of metal. How to resuscitate it? I descend, and eagerly
inspect the corpse. The plains, whose submissive immensity I have been
braving, begin to contemplate revenge. Now that I have ceased to move,
they fling themselves further and wider around me. The blue distance
seems to recede, the sky to recoil. I am lost among the impassable
cornfields, whose myriad heads press forward, whispering softly, craning
to see what I am proposing to do; while the poppies, in the midst of
that undulating crowd, nod their red caps and burst into thousandfold
laughter. But no matter. My recent science is sure of itself. The
hippogriff revives, gives its first snort of life, and then departs once
more, singing its song. I reconquer the plains, which again bow down
before me. I give a slow turn to the mysterious "advance ignition"
lever, and regulate carefully the admission of the petrol. The pace
grows faster and faster, the delirious wheels cry aloud in their
gladness. And at first the road comes moving towards me, like a bride
waving palms, rhythmically keeping time to some joyous melody. But soon
it grows frantic, springs forward, and throws itself madly upon me,
rushing under the car like a furious torrent, whose foam lashes my face;
it drowns me beneath its waves, it blinds me with its breath. Oh, that
wonderful breath! It is as though wings, as though myriad wings no eye
can see, transparent wings of great supernatural birds that have their
homes on invisible mountains swept by eternal snow, have come to refresh
my eyes and my brow with their overwhelming fragrance! Now the road
drops sheer into the abyss, and the magical carriage rushes ahead of it.
The trees, that for so many slow-moving years have serenely dwelt on its
borders, shrink back in dread of disaster. They seem to be hastening one
to the other, to approach their green heads, and in startled groups to
debate how to bar the way of the strange apparition. But as this rushes
onward, they take panic, and scatter and fly, each one quickly seeking
its own habitual place; and as I pass they bend tumultuously forward,
and their myriad leaves, quick to the mad joy of the force that is
chanting its hymn, murmur in my ears the voluble psalm of Space,
acclaiming and greeting the enemy that hitherto has always been
conquered but now at last triumphs: Speed.