"The only means I know of to carry out your wishes to the letter, would
be a nocturnal departure, as I arrived--that is to say, in my balloon."
"Yes, Phillip, yes!" I exclaimed eagerly, "in your balloon, to-night, in
your balloon!"
* * * * *
That night, in a field by the reservoir of the gas-works of Nettledene,
the balloon was inflated, and the car loaded with stores for our
journey to unknown lands. The great fabric swayed and struggled in the
strong breeze that blew over the hills, and it was with some difficulty
that Phillip and I took our seats. All was in readiness, when Phillip,
searching the car with a lantern, discovered that we had not with us the
bundle of rugs and wraps which I had got ready for carrying off.
"Keep her steady, boys!" he cried. "I must run back to the house." And
he leapt from the car and disappeared in the darkness.
It was weird to crouch there alone, with the great balloon swaying over
my head, each plunge threatening to dislodge me from the seat to which I
clung, the cords and the wicker-work straining and creaking, and the
swish of the silk sounding like the hiss of a hundred snakes. It was
alarming in no small degree to know how little prevented me from
shooting up solitarily to take an indefinite place among the stars. I
confess that I was nervous, but I only called to the men who were
holding the car to please take care and not let me go without Mr.
Rutley.
The words were scarcely out of my mouth when a man, whom we all thought
was he, climbed into the car and hoarsely told them to let go. The order
was obeyed and the earth seemed to drop away slowly beneath us as the
balloon rose and drifted away before the wind.
"You haven't the rugs, after all!" I exclaimed to my companion. He
turned and flung his arms about me, and the voice of Kenneth Moore it
was that replied to me:--
"I have _you_. I swore I would have you, and I've got you at last!"
In an instant, as I perceived that I was being carried off from my
husband by the very man I had been trying to escape, I seized the
grapnel that lay handy and flung it over the side. It was attached to a
long stout cord which was fastened to the body of the car, and by the
violent jerks that ensued I knew that I was not too late to snatch at an
anchorage and the chance of a rescue. The balloon, heavily ballasted,
was drifting along near the ground with the grappling-iron tearing
through hedges and fences and trees, right in the direction of our farm.
How I prayed that it might again strike against the house as it did with
Phillip, and that he might be near to succour me!
As we swept along the fields the grapnel, taking here and there a secure
hold for a moment or so, would bring the car side down to the earth,
nearly jerking us out, but we both clung fast to the cordage, and then
the grapnel would tear its way through and the balloon would rise like a
great bird into the air.
It was in the moment that one of these checks occurred, when the balloon
had heeled over in the wind until it lay almost horizontally upon the
surface of the ground, that I saw Phillip Rutley standing in the meadow
beneath me. He cried to me as the car descended to him with me clinging
to the ropes and framework for my life:--
"Courage, dearest! You're anchored. Hold on tight. You won't be hurt."
Down came the car sideways, and struck the ground violently, almost
crushing him. As it rebounded he clung to the edge and held it down,
shouting for help. I did not dare let go my hold, as the balloon was
struggling furiously, but I shrieked to Phillip that Kenneth Moore had
tried to carry me off, and implored him to save me from that man. But
before I could make myself understood, Kenneth, who like myself had been
holding on for dear life, threw himself suddenly upon Phillip, who, to
ward off a shower of savage blows, let go of the car.
There was a heavy gust of wind, a tearing sound, the car rose out of
Phillip's reach, and we dragged our anchor once more. The ground flew
beneath us, and my husband was gone.
I screamed with all my might, and prepared to fling myself out when we
came to the earth again, but my captor, seizing each article that lay on
the floor of the car, hurled forth, with the frenzy of a madman,
ballast, stores, water-keg, cooking apparatus, everything,
indiscriminately. For a moment this unburdening of the balloon did not
have the effect one would suppose--that of making us shoot swiftly up
into the sky, and I trusted that Phillip and the men who had helped us
at the gas-works had got hold of the grapnel line, and would haul us
down; but, looking over the side, I perceived that we were flying along
unfettered, and increasing each minute our distance from the earth.
We were off, then, Heaven alone could tell whither! I had lost the
protection of my husband, and fallen utterly into the power of a lover
who was terrifying and hateful to me.
Away we sped in the darkness, higher and higher, faster and faster; and
I crouched, half-fainting, in the bottom of the car, while Kenneth
Moore, bending over me, poured his horrible love into my ear:--
"Minnie! My Minnie! Why did you try to play me false? Didn't you know
your old playmate better than to suppose he would give you up? Thank
your stars, girl, you are now quit of that scoundrel, and that the very
steps he took to ruin you have put it in my power to save you from him
and from your wilful self."
I forgot that he did not know Phillip and I had been married that
morning, and, indignant that he should speak so of my husband, I accused
him in turn of seeking to destroy me. How dared he interfere with me?
How dared he speak ill of a man who was worth a thousand of himself--who
had not persecuted me all my life, who loved me honestly and truly, and
whom I loved with all my soul? I called Kenneth Moore a coward, a cruel,
cowardly villain, and commanded him to stop the balloon, to let me go
back to my home--back to Phillip Rutley, who was the only man I could
ever love in the whole wide world!
"You are out of your senses, Minnie," he answered, and he clasped me
tightly in his arms, while the balloon mounted higher and higher. "You
are angry with me now, but when you realize that you are mine for ever
and cannot escape, you will forgive me, and be grateful to me--yes, and
love me, for loving you so well."
"Never!" I cried, "never! You are a thief! You have stolen me, and I
hate you! I shall always hate you. Rather than endure you, I will make
the balloon fall right down, down, and we will both be dashed to
pieces."
I was so furious with him that I seized the valve-line that swung near
me at the moment, and tugged at it with all my might. He grasped my
hand, but I wound the cord about my arms, held on to it with my teeth,
and he could not drag it from me. In the struggle we nearly overturned
the car. I did not care. I would gladly have fallen out and lost my life
now that I had lost Phillip.
Then Kenneth took from his pocket a large knife and unclasped it. I
laughed aloud, for I thought he meant to frighten me into submission.
But I soon saw what he meant to do. He climbed up the cordage and cut
the valve-line through.
"Now you are conquered!" he cried, "and we will voyage together to the
world's end."
I had risen to my feet and watched him, listened to him with a thrill of
despair; but even as his triumphant words appalled me the car swayed
down upon the side opposite to where I stood--the side where still hung
the long line with the grapnel--and I saw the hands of a man upon the
ledge; the arms, the head, and the shoulders of a man, of a man who the
next minute was standing in the car, I fast in his embrace: Phillip
Rutley, my true love, my husband!
Then it seemed to me that the balloon collapsed, and all things melted,
and I was whirling away--down, down, down!
[Illustration: "I LAY IN PHILLIP'S ARMS"]
How long I was unconscious I do not know, but it was daylight when I
opened my eyes. It was piercingly cold--snow was falling, and although I
lay in Phillip's arms with his coat over me, while he sat in his
shirt-sleeves holding me. On the other side stood Kenneth Moore. He also
was in his shirt-sleeves. His coat also had been devoted to covering
me. Both those men were freezing there for my sake, and I was ungrateful
enough to shiver.
I need not tell you that I gave them no peace until they had put their
coats on again. Then we all crouched together in the bottom of the car
to keep each other warm. I shrank from Kenneth a little, but not much,
for it was kind of him--so kind and generous--to suffer that awful cold
for me. What surprised me was that he made no opposition to my resting
in Phillip's arms, and Phillip did not seem to mind his drawing close to
me.