THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE PROFESSOR
The Prince and the Professor sat up in the smoking-room for a
considerable time after Nitocris had retired. Oscarovitch was doing his
utmost to persuade his guest to revoke his decision as to the creation
of the aerial warships. Franklin Marmion's simple announcement, which he
never thought for a moment of disbelieving, had filled his mind with new
ideas, which were rapidly taking the shape of gorgeous dreams of an
empire such as mortal man had never ruled over before. All his present
designs faded away into mere trivialities in comparison with this
splendid conception. He pictured Nitocris, as his consort, Empress of
the air, and himself Lord of earth and sea and sky. But all his subtle
arguments, all his delicately-put suggestions, and his skilfully framed
promises failed to produce the slightest effect upon the genially
inflexible man, who quietly turned them all aside, as a grown man might
deal with the arguments of a boy.
The thought that this man who was lying back in his deep-seated
armchair, holding a cigar in a white, delicately-shaped hand which was
strong enough to shake the world to its foundations, should possess
such a tremendous power and yet refuse to use it, as quietly as he might
have declined an invitation to dinner, exasperated him almost beyond the
bounds of patience. If he would only join forces with him what glories
might they not achieve, what splendours of power and possession might
not be theirs! Here was universal empire, in one sense, only a couple of
yards away from him! In another it was more distant than the suns which
flame in Space beyond the Milky Way. It was maddening, but it was true,
and he knew the man well enough now to feel absolutely assured that no
extremity of mental or physical torment would wring the priceless secret
from him.
Well, if it had to be, it must be. If he could not learn the secret, at
least no one else should. Before morning it would be buried for ever
under the waters of the Baltic, and he would revenge himself on the
daughter for that which the father refused to do. If Franklin Marmion
would not give him the sceptre of the World-Empire, then Nitocris should
be his wife and Empress if she would, and if not, his slave and
plaything, as he had sworn to Phadrig the Egyptian. The fortress-castle
of Oscarburg, on the lonely wooded shore of Viborg Bay, had kept many a
secret safely before now, and it would keep this one. Every retainer in
the Castle, every man, woman, and child on the estates for leagues
around, was his, body and soul, as their fathers before them had been
the blind, unquestioning serfs of his fathers. There his word was law,
and his will was fate. There was no "liberty" within his domains, since
no man wanted it, or would have understood it had it been given to him.
When their argument was over they parted, apparently the best of
friends. Franklin Marmion went to bed calmly curious as to what was
going to happen, and Oscarovitch paid a visit to his captain.
A little after three that morning he opened the door of the Professor's
state-room very gently and looked in. The room was dark, and he
listened. A soft, just audible sound of breathing came from the bed. It
was the breathing of a man fast asleep. He pressed the spring of his
electric lamp, and turned the thin ray on to the water-bottle in the
rack over the wash-stand. It was half-empty, and a glass stood on the
table in the middle of the room. Then the ray fell on the face of the
sleeping man. It was as Prince Zastrow's face had been the last night he
went to sleep in the Castle of Trelitz--rather the face of a corpse than
that of a living man. His captain stood behind him, and he turned and
whispered:
"He is ready. Are the men below?"
"All, Highness, save Grovno at the wheel and Hartog on the look-out.
They will see nothing, as they did before," came the whispered reply.
"Very well, then. You and I can manage this between us. You have the
line?"
The captain nodded, and they went into the room, softly closing the
door. In a few minutes they came out again, carrying between them a long
bundle of blankets lashed from end to end with thin line. They took it
aft along the alloway and out on to the lower deck by the stern. Two
iron doors of a port used for coaling stood open on the starboard side.
On the deck lay a couple of pigs of iron lashed together. These the
captain made fast to one end of the bundle and lifted them towards the
port. Oscarovitch took hold of the other end. They lifted it. The
weights dropped outside the port, and the bundle followed them. The
captain started up, clasped his hands to his forehead, and said in a
gasping whisper:
"Holy God, Highness, what have we done?"
"What do you mean, Derevskin? You have obeyed my orders; that is all. Is
it not enough for you?"
"Yes, Highness--but who or what was that man? Was he really a man?"
"Are you mad, Derevskin?"
"No, Highness, I hope not: but did you hear--or, rather, did you not
hear?"
"What, you fool?"
"He--it--the body--it made no splash when it touched the water!"
The stammered words struck Oscarovitch like so many puffs of frozen air.
No, the body of Franklin Marmion _had_ made no splash. It had vanished
through the port into silence. That was all. He beat back his own terror
with the exertion of all his will-power, and said in a sneering
whisper:
"Derevskin, you are either mad or drunk; but I will forgive you this
time because you have obeyed. Go to bed, and don't forget to be either
sober or sane when I come on deck."
The captain bowed his head, and went forward with shambling steps and
shaking limbs. Oscarovitch closed the port with hands which all his
force could not keep steady, and betook himself to bed, to lie awake for
the rest of the short summer night wondering vainly what really had
happened.
He had had his bath and dressed soon after six, and went on deck. The
captain was on the bridge, and he joined him.
"Good morning, Derevskin!"
"I have the honour to wish Your Highness good morning!"
"Nothing happened during the night worth reporting, I suppose?"
"No, Highness, nothing."
"Very good: but I have slept badly, and you look as if you had been on
the bridge all night. Perhaps it is necessary among all these islands,
and I am pleased that you are so watchful, especially as I have guests
on board. Come down to your room now and send your steward for a bottle.
It will do neither of us any harm."
There was a somewhat lengthy conversation over this early breakfast of
champagne and biscuits after the door had been closed and locked, and
when it was finished, Oscarovitch and his captain understood each other
as completely as was necessary.
An hour later he saw Nitocris walking about the upper deck looking pale
and anxious. He went to her and said in a tone which intentionally
betrayed his own nervousness:
"Good morning, Miss Marmion! Have you seen anything of the Professor?"
"No, Prince, I have not. I went to his room just now and knocked. There
was no reply and I opened the door. The room was empty, but he had
evidently been to bed. Is he not on deck?"
"No, Miss Marmion, he is not. He said last night that he would like his
bath about six, and the steward I sent to valet him went to his room and
found it as you say. I have had the ship searched high and low, and from
stem to stern, and there is no sign of him. I have had every one
questioned, and no one has seen anything of him since last night."
"Oh, my poor, poor Dad, I have lost him! Yes, I suppose it must have
been that. He has walked overboard."
"Walked overboard, Miss Marmion?"
"Yes, yes, it must be that. Prince Oscarovitch, my father, like most
very clever men, had one dangerous failing. He walked in his sleep and
did things unconsciously. That was why he told you about the ghost at
'The Wilderness' just as though he really had seen it. Yes, he must have
got up in the night and come on deck, and walked overboard, and so I
have lost the best friend I ever had, or shall have. You must excuse
me, Prince. I must go to my room. The very sunlight seems horrible now.
Jenny will look after me. Good morning!"
Her face was white and her eyes were staring at nothing. She spoke with
a horrible, stony calm which, crime-hardened as he was, sent a thrilling
shiver through his nerves. A spasm of remorse shook him; then his
self-control came back, and he offered her his arm in silence. He led
her down to the saloon, and gave her into Jenny's charge. Then he went
on deck again, lit a cigar, and proceeded to congratulate himself on the
great good fortune which had, from his point of view at least, so
happily explained away the disappearance of Franklin Marmion.