IMPRISONMENT AND A WONDERFUL ESCAPE
The shock of this terrible accident, the full import of which must have
flashed simultaneously through the mind of every one of us, drove the
blood from Edmund's face, while Jack staggered, uttering a pitiful moan,
Henry collapsed, and I stood trembling in every limb. The report of the
pistol produced upon the natives the effect that was to have been
expected. Ingra sprang backward with a cry like that of a startled beast,
and many upon the deck fell prostrate, either through terror or the
effect of collision with one another in their wild flight. What occurred
among the waiting crowd on the tower I do not precisely know, but a wind
of fear seemed to pass through the air--a weird, heart-quaking _shadow of
sound_.
For a few moments, I believe, no one but ourselves understood what had
happened to Ala. Ingra may have thought, if he thought at all in his
terror and surprise, that she had fallen as the result of nervous shock.
This moment of paralysis on the part of those whom we had now to regard
as our enemies, whatever they may have been before, afforded the
opportunity for escape--if there had been any way to escape. But we were
completely trapped; there was no direction in which we could flee. Yet I
doubt if the thought of flight occurred to any of us. Certainly it did
not to Edmund, who was the first to recover his self-command.
"_We have shot down our only friend!_" he said with terrible emphasis,
and, as he spoke, he lifted Ala in his arms and laid her on a seat. Her
breast was stained with blood.
At the sight of this, a flash of comprehension passed over the features
of Ingra; then, instantly, his face changed to a look of fury, and he
sprang upon Edmund. With trembling hand, I tried to draw my pistol, but
before I could get it from my pocket there was a rush, a hairy form
darted past me, and Ingra lay sprawling on his back. Over him, with foot
planted on his breast, stood the burly form of Juba, with his muscular
arms uplifted, and his enormous eyes blazing fire!
God only knows what would have happened next, but at this instant Ala--to
my amazement, for I had thought that the bullet had gone through her
heart--rose to an upright posture, and made a commanding gesture, which
arrested those who were now hurrying to take a part in the scene. All,
natives as well as ourselves, stood as motionless as stone. Her face was
pale and her eyes were wonderful to look upon. With a gasp of
thankfulness, I noticed that the blood on her breast was but a narrow
streak Juba, staring at her, slowly withdrew his foot from his prostrate
opponent, and Ingra first sat up, and then got upon his feet. Ala, who
had been seated, rose at the same moment, and looked Ingra straight in
the face. I saw Edmund glancing from one to the other, and I knew he was
trying to follow the communication that was taking place between them.
The general sense of it I could follow, myself. Ingra, metaphorically,
stormed and Ala commanded. That she was defending us was plain, and it
was but natural that my admiration for this wonderful woman should rise
to the highest pitch. I thanked God, in my heart, that her wound could be
no more than a scratch--and yet it was a wound, inflicted upon the person
of her who, there could be no doubt, was the ruler of a powerful empire.
It was less majesty, or worse, and she, herself, might not be able to
protect us against its consequences.
At last, it became evident that a decision had been made. Ala turned to
us with a smile, which we took for an assurance of encouragement, at
least, and started to leave the deck. Edmund instantly stepped in front
of her, and pointed to the stain of blood, with a gesture and a look
which meant, at the same time, an inquiry as to the nature of the wound
and an expression of the wish to do something to repair the injury. She
shook her head and smiled again, in a manner which clearly said that the
hurt was not serious and that she understood that it was an accident.
Then, surrounded by her female attendants, she passed out of our sight in
the crowd on the landing. Edmund turned to us:
"We shall probably get out of it all right," he said, "but not without
some difficulty. They will surely imprison us. Make no resistance. Leave
all to me. Jack's pistol will, no doubt, be seized, but if the rest of
you keep yours concealed, they may not search for them, as they know
nothing about the weapons."
Edmund had spoken hurriedly, and had hardly finished when a dozen stout
fellows, under Ingra's directions, took us in charge, Juba included, and
we were led from the deck, through the vast throng on the platform, who
made room for our passage, while devouring us with curious, though
frightened eyes. In a minute we embarked on one of the "elevators," and
made a thrillingly rapid descent. Arrived at the bottom, we were
conducted, through long, stone-walled passages, into a veritable dungeon.
And there they left us. I wondered if this had been done at Ala's order,
or in defiance of her wishes. After all, I reflected, what claim have we
upon her?
In the absolute darkness where we now found ourselves, we remained silent
for a minute or two, feeling about for one another, until the quiet voice
of Edmund said:
"Fortune still favors us."
As he spoke, a light dazzled our eyes. He had turned on a pocket electric
lamp. We looked about and found that we were in a square chamber, about
fifteen feet on a side, with walls of heavy stone.
"They make things solid enough down here," said Jack, with some return of
his usual spirits, "however airy and fairy they may be above."
"All the better for us," returned Edmund enigmatically.
Henry sank upon the floor, the picture of dejection and despair. I
expected another outbreak from him, but he spoke not a word. His heart
was too full for utterance, and I pitied him so much that I tried to
reanimate his spirits.
"Come, now," I said, "don't take it this way, man. Have confidence in
Edmund. He has never yet been beaten."
"I reckon he's got his hands full this time," put in Jack. "What do you
think, Edmund, can your atomic energy bore a hole through these walls?"
"If I had it here, you'd see," Edmund replied. "But there's no occasion
to worry, we'll come out all right."
It was his unfailing remark when in difficulties, and somehow it always
enheartened us. Juba, more accustomed to such situations, seemed the
least disturbed member of the party. He rolled his huge eyes around the
apartment once or twice, and then lay down on the floor, and seemed at
once to fall asleep.
"That's a good idea of Juba's," said Edmund, smiling; "it's a long time
since we have had a nap. Let's all try a little sleep. I may dream of
some way out of this."
It was a fact that we were all exhausted for want of sleep, and, in spite
of our situation, I soon fell into deep slumber, as peaceful as if I had
been in my bed at home. Edmund had turned out the lamp, and the silence
and darkness were equally profound.
I dreamt that I was at the Olympus Club on the point of trumping an ace,
when a flash of light in the eyes awoke me. I started up and found Edmund
standing over me. The others were all on their feet. Edmund immediately
whispered:
"Come quietly; I've found a way out."
"What have you found?"
"Something extremely simple. This is no prison cell, but a part of what
appears to be the engine rooms--probably it is an unused storeroom. They
have put us here for convenience, trusting more to the darkness than to
the lock, for the corridors outside are as black as Erebus and as crooked
as a labyrinth."
"How do you know?"
"Because, while you were all asleep, I made an exploration. The lock was
nothing; the merest tyro could pick it. Fortunately they never guessed
that I had a lamp. In this world of daylight, it is not likely that
pocket lamps have ever been thought of. Just around the corner, there is
another door opening into a passage that leads by a power house. That
passage gives access to a sort of garage of air craft, and when I stole
into it five minutes ago, there was not a soul in sight. We'll simply
slip in there, and if I can't run away with one of those fliers, then I'm
no engineer. To tell the truth, I'm not altogether sure that it is wise
for us to escape, for I have a feeling that Ala will help us; still, when
Providence throws one a rope, it's best, perhaps, to test its strength.
Come on, now, and make no noise."
Accompanied by Juba, we stepped noiselessly outside, extinguishing the
light, and, led by Edmund, passed what he had called the power house,
where we saw several fellows absorbed in their work, lighted somehow from
above. Then we slipped into the "garage." Here light entered from
without, through a large opening at the side. There may have been twenty
small air ships resting on cradles. Edmund selected one, which he
appeared to have examined in advance, and motioning us to step upon its
little deck, he began to manipulate the mechanism as confidently as if it
had been his own invention.
"You see that I did not waste my time in examining the air ship that
brought us," he whispered, and never before had I admired and trusted him
as I did now. In less than a minute after we had stepped aboard, we were
circling in the air outside. We rose with stunning rapidity, swooping
away in a curve like an eagle.
At this instant we were seen!
There was a quick flashing of signals, and two air craft shot into sight
above us.
"Now for a chase!" cried Edmund, actually laughing with exultation.
We darted upward, curving aside to avoid the pursuers. And then they
swooped after us. We rose so rapidly that within a couple of seconds we
were skirting the upper part of the great tower. Then others saw us, and
joined in the chase. Jack's spirits soared with the excitement:
"Sorry to take rogue's leave of these Venuses," he exclaimed. "But no
dungeons for us, if you please."
"We're not away, yet," said Edmund over his shoulder; and, indeed, we
were not!
The air ships swarmed out on every side like hornets; the atmosphere
seemed full of them. I gave up all hope of escape, but Edmund was like a
racer who hears the thud of hoofs behind him. He put on more and more
speed until we were compelled to hang on to anything within reach in
order to save ourselves from being blown off by the wind which we made,
or whirled overboard on sharp turns.
Crash! We had run straight into a huge craft that persisted in getting in
our way. She dipped and rolled like a floating log. I saw the fellows on
her tumble over one another, as we shot by, and I glanced anxiously to
see if any had gone overboard. We could afford to do no killing if we
could avoid it; for, in case of recapture, that would be another
indictment against us. I saw no one falling from the discomfited air
ship, and I felt reassured. Occupied as he was, dodging and turning,
Edmund did not cease to address a few words to us occasionally.
"There's just one chance to beat them," he said, "and only one. I'm going
to try it as soon as I can get out of this press."
I had no notion of what he meant, but a few minutes later I divined his
intention. I had observed that all the while he was working higher and
higher, and this, as you will presently see, was the key to his plan.
Up and up we shot, Edmund making the necessary circles as short as
possible, and so recklessly did he turn on the speed that it really began
to look as if we might get away after all. Two thirds of our pursuers
were now far below our level, but none showed a disposition to give up
the chase, and those which were yet above tried to cross our bow. While I
saw that Edmund's idea was to hold a skyward course, I was far from
guessing the particular reason he had for doing so, and, finally, Jack,
who comprehended it still less, exclaimed:
"See here, Edmund, if you keep on going up instead of running off in one
direction or another, they'll corner you in the middle of the sky. Don't
you see how they have circled out on all sides so as to surround us? Then
when we get as high as we can go, they'll simply close in, and we'll be
trapped."
"Oh, no, we won't," Edmund replied.
"I don't see why."
"Because they can't go as high as we can."
"The deuce they can't! I guess they understand these ships as well as you
do."
"Can a fish live out of water?" asked Edmund, laughing.
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Why, it's plain enough. These people are used to breathing an atmosphere
surcharged with oxygen and twice as dense as that of the earth. It
doesn't trouble our breathing, simply giving us more energy; but we can
live where they would gasp for breath. Air impossibly rare for them is
all right for us, and that's what I am in search of, and we shall find it
if we can get high enough."
The beauty and simplicity of this unexpected plan struck us all with
admiration, and Jack, his doubts instantly turning to enthusiasm, cried:
"By Jo, Edmund, you're a trump! I'd like to get a gaff into the gills of
that catfish, Ingra, when he begins to blow. By Jo, I'd pickle him and
make a present of him to the Museum of Natural History. '_Catfishia
Venusensis_, presented by Jack Ashton, Esq.'--how'd that look on a label,
hey?"
And Jack hugged himself with delight over his conceit.
In a short time the accuracy of Edmund's conjecture became apparent. Our
pursuers, one by one, dropped off. Their own strategy, to which Jack had
called attention, was simply a playing into our hands. They had really
thought to catch us in the center of a contracting circle, when, to their
amazement, we rose straight up into air so rare that they could not live
in it. Edmund roared with laughter when he saw the assured success of his
maneuver.
But there was one thing which even he had overlooked, and it struck to
our hearts when we became aware of it. Poor, faithful Juba, who had so
recently proved his devotion to us, could endure this rare air no better
than our pursuers. Already, unnoticed in the excitement, he had fallen
upon the deck, where he lay gasping.
"Good God, he's dying!" exclaimed Jack.
"He shall not die!" responded Edmund, setting his lips, and turning to
his machinery.
"But, you're not going back down there!"
"I'll run beyond the edge of the circle, and drop down far enough to
revive him. Then we can keep dodging up and down just out of their reach,
and so be out of danger both ways."
No sooner said than done. We ran rapidly on a horizontal course until we
had cleared the air ships below, and then dropped like a shot. Juba came
to his senses in a few moments after we entered the denser air. But now
our pursuers, thinking, no doubt, that we had found it impracticable to
remain where they knew they could not go, began to close in upon us. I
reflected that here was the only mistake that Edmund had made--I mean the
bringing along with us of the natives of the dark hemisphere. It was only
their presence that had prevented us from sailing triumphantly over the
crystal mountains; it was because of them that we had wrecked the car;
and now it was Juba who baffled our best chance of escape. And yet--and I
am glad to be able to say it--I could not regret his presence, for had he
not made himself one of us; had he not proved himself entitled to all the
privileges of comradeship?
But Henry (I am sorry to write it) did not share these feelings.
"Edmund," he said, "why do you insist upon endangering our lives for the
sake of this--this--animal here?"
Never have I beheld such a blaze of anger as that which burst from
Edmund's eyes as he turned upon Henry:
"You cowardly brute!" he shouted. "I ought to throw you overboard!"
He seemed about to execute his threat, dropping the controller from his
hand as he spoke, and Henry, with ashen face, ran from him like a madman.
I caught him in my arms, fearing that he would tumble overboard in his
fright, and Edmund, instantly recovering his composure, turned back to
his work.
Finding Juba sufficiently recovered, although yet weak and almost
helpless, he rose again, but more cautiously than before. And now our
pursuers, plainly believing that these maneuvers could have but one
ending, began to set their net, and I could not help admiring their plan,
which would surely have succeeded if they had not made a fundamental
error in their calculations, but one for which they were not to blame.
There was such a multitude of their craft, fresh ones coming up all the
while, that they were able to form themselves into the shape of a huge
bag net, the edge of which was carried as high as they dared to go, while
the sides and receding bottom were composed of air ships so numerous that
they were packed almost as closely as meshes. Edmund laughed again as he
looked down into this immense net.
"No, no," he shouted. "We're no gudgeons! You'll have to do better than
that!"
"See here, Edmund," Jack suddenly exclaimed, "why don't you make off and
leave them? By keeping just above their reach we could easily escape."
"_And leave the car?_" was the reply.
"By Jo," returned Jack, "I never thought of that. But, then, what did you
run away for at all?"
"Because," said Edmund quietly, "I thought it better to parley than to
lie in prison."
"Parley! How are you going to parley?"
"That remains to be seen; but I guess we'll manage it."
We were now, as far as I could estimate, five or six miles high. When we
were highest, the great cloud dome seemed to be but a little way above
our heads, and I thought, at first, that Edmund intended to run up into
it and thus conceal our movements. The highest of our pursuers were about
half a mile below us. They circled about, and were evidently parleying on
their own account, for waves of color flowed all about them, making a
spectacle so brilliant and beautiful that sometimes I almost forgot our
critical situation in watching it.
"I suppose you'll play them a prismatic symphony," said Henry mockingly.
I looked at him in surprise. Evidently his fear of Edmund had vanished;
no doubt because he knew in his heart the magnanimity of our great
leader.
"Who knows?" Edmund replied. "I've no doubt the materials are aboard, and
if I had been here a month, I'd probably try it. As things stand, we
shall have to resort to other methods."
While we were talking, Edmund did not relax his vigilance, and two or
three times, when he had dropped to a lesser elevation for Juba's sake,
he baffled a dash of the enemy. At last we noticed a movement in the
crowd which betokened something of importance, and in a moment we saw
what it was. A splendid air ship, by far the most beautiful that we had
yet seen, was swiftly approaching from below.
"It's the queen," said Edmund. "I thought she'd come."
The approaching ship made its way straight toward us, and, without the
slightest hesitation, Edmund dropped down to meet it. Those who had been
our pursuers now made no attempt to interfere with us; they recognized
the presence of a superior authority. Soon we were so near that we could
recognize Ala, who looked like Cleopatra in her barge on the charmed
waves of Cydnus. Beside her, to the intense disappointment of Jack and
myself, stood Ingra.
"Confound him!" growled Jack. "He's always got to have his oar in the
puddle. Blamed if I'm not sorry Edmund spoiled my aim. I'd have had his
scalp to hang up at the Olympus to be smoked at!"
Of what now occurred, I can give no detailed account, because it was all
beyond my comprehension. We approached almost within touch, and then
Edmund stood forth, fearless and splendid as Caesar, and conducted his
"parley." When it was over, there was a flashing of aerial colors between
Ala's ship and the others, and then all, including ours, set out to
return to the capital. After a while Edmund, who had been very
thoughtful, turned to us and said:
"You can make your minds easy. Of course you'll understand there is a
certain amount of guesswork in what I tell you, but you can depend upon
the correctness of my general conclusions. I believe that I have made it
perfectly clear that we intended no harm, and that we are not dangerous
characters. At least Ala understands it perfectly. As for Ingra, perhaps
he doesn't want to understand it. I can't make out the cause of his
enmity, but it is certain that he doesn't like us, and if it all depended
upon him, it would go hard with us. I believe that we shall have to stand
a trial of some kind, but remember that we've got a powerful advocate. I
don't regret our running off, for, as I anticipated, it afforded us the
opportunity to establish some sort of terms. The mere fact that we return
willingly when they know that we might have fled beyond their reach
should count in our favor, for, as I have always insisted, these are
highly intelligent people, with civilized ideas. If I had not been sure
of that I should have continued the flight and depended upon some other
means of recovering the car--or constructing a new one."
We had become so much accustomed to accept Edmund's decisions as final
that none of us thought of objecting to what he had done; unless it might
have been Henry, but he kept his thoughts to himself.