WE REACH THORWALD’S HOME.
All this time we had been riding leisurely along, enraptured with the
delightful country, while the way itself and the estates on either hand
offered such variety of landscape that the view never became tiresome
nor uninteresting.
But as the day was waning, our friends quickened the pace and showed us
a burst of speed. This was most exhilarating, and soon brought us to
the station where Thorwald told us we were to take an express train for
home, which was about two hundred miles distant.
When we alighted we left our carriage by the roadside among many others,
and entered an immense building. Both inside and out there were plenty
of people moving around, but without noise or unpleasant bustle. With no
delay, and also with no haste, we entered what appeared to be a smaller
apartment opening out of the general waiting-room. It had the appearance
of an elegant drawing-room, the rich but comfortable-looking furniture
being disposed in a careless manner, which helped to make us feel at
home, if anything could bring us that sensation. There was a door at
each end of the room, and soon these were closed and we felt an almost
imperceptible jar. The doctor glanced hastily at Thorwald and said:
“Can it be possible that we are to travel in this apartment?”
“Yes,” answered Thorwald, “this is our modern traveling coach, and
we are already on our way to the city in which my friend here and I
reside.”
This latter fact surprised us, for we could not perceive by our senses
that we were in motion. But as we sat wondering and trying to imagine
ourselves flying through space, the doors opened, a pleasant breeze
fanned our cheeks, and the doors closed again, we felt that slight jar
repeated, and then we were quiet once more. This occurred every two or
three minutes, and, remembering what Thorwald had previously told us, we
realized that we were riding in a perfectly tight car in a vacuum tube
and that these short but frequent stops were to keep us supplied with
fresh air.
Thorwald explained this to us again, and told us that the coaches were
of different sizes to accommodate large or small parties, and that one
could ride alone if he chose to. The cars started so frequently that it
was seldom necessary to wait more than a few minutes. The doctor thought
there must be great liability to accident, but Thorwald said:
“No, we do not consider the risk worth taking into account. Let me
illustrate with a familiar example. Suppose you had just seen a cable
tested with a ton’s weight without a strain. Should you fear to take
hold of the cable and lift yourself from the ground lest it might break
and you should fall? The mechanism of this road is just as sure as that.
The force that is driving us forward is no longer mysterious. The laws
of electricity are well defined, and its mighty power is under perfect
control. Nothing is left to chance, and the result is that there have
been no accidents for many, many years, and practically speaking there
cannot be any.”
When we first entered the coach we noticed that there were no windows,
and as the doors had no glass we wondered why it was not dark. The light
was good broad daylight, exactly like that which fills a room when there
are good windows, but where the direct rays of the sun do not enter;
and, as we could see no lamps nor fixtures, we could not understand how
the illumination could be artificial. But such it was. We carried
an electric battery with us, and the lamps were out of sight, and so
arranged that they gave us only reflected light. The system was so
perfect that the imitation sunlight was just as good as the real, as far
as we could discover.
“This is the way we light all our interiors,” said Thorwald, “and of
course the apparatus is so governed that we can have any amount of
illumination we please, little or much.”
The doctor was about to ask some question in relation to this practical
improvement, when he was stopped by hearing a little silver-toned bell
ring. In an instant the doors opened, and Thorwald rose and announced
that we had reached the end of our journey. We could not have been in
the car more than fifteen minutes, and the doctor and I supposed our
ride of two hundred miles had just begun.
“Well, if you travel at this rate,” said the doctor, “I do not wonder
you have obliterated all national boundaries, for the ends of the world
are right at your doors. And now, Thorwald, I would like to see the
great tube through which we have been carried so swiftly.”
Thorwald smiled a little and led the way through another superb
waiting-room out into the open air. Here the doctor looked in all
directions, but could see nothing of the object for which he was
searching.
“You have seen all any of us can see,” said Thorwald.
“We merely step into the comfortable car, sit a few minutes, step out
again, and go home. In the meantime we have been carried under ground
and under water, across valleys and through hills, but the way itself,
the tube through which the car flies, is entirely hidden from sight.
Where it is above ground, trees and shrubbery screen it from view, so
that it does not mar the landscape. We think much of this, and should
regret exceedingly if it became necessary for any such utilitarian
object to interfere with our aesthetic enjoyment of nature.”
Thorwald’s friend now took leave of us, expressing the hope that
he would soon see us again. He had taken some little part in our
conversation, but had left the burden of it to Thorwald, who was older,
and who was, moreover, our first acquaintance.
It seemed singular to the doctor and me that we had attracted so little
attention among the people whom we had encountered since leaving the
ship. To give the reason for this, which we afterwards discovered, is
to reveal one of the pleasantest peculiarities of the Martian
character--that is, the entire absence of a disagreeable curiosity. Our
dress and appearance and the rather novel circumstances connected with
our arrival on the planet, which must quickly have become known,
were certainly calculated to excite their interest, and in a similar
situation on the earth there is no telling what might have happened to
us from a curious mob. But here all was order and quiet. Everybody went
about his own business and treated our party with additional respect,
it seemed, because some of us were strangers. We found out later how
anxious all these people were to learn everything about us, but they
were content to wait till the knowledge should come to them in a proper
way.
Thorwald now selected a light, pretty carriage, and after a brisk ride
through another charming avenue and up a steep hill, we alighted at the
door of a noble mansion whose majestic proportions were in harmony
with the wide, open plateau upon which it stood alone. Upon entering,
Thorwald was at once affectionately greeted by his wife, and while he
was introducing us as natives of another world his son and daughter came
bounding toward him from an adjacent room.
These were quite small children, but in a few moments Thorwald brought
in from another part of the house a young woman of about my age,
apparently, and introduced her as a neighbor. It needed but a glance to
tell us that she was beautiful as a dream, and she moved about with that
exquisite grace which comes only from the highest culture. She spoke
to us with such ease and naturalness that we were at once relieved from
whatever embarrassment the circumstances might easily occasion.
“Antonia is our very dear friend,” said Thorwald, “and, although she
hides her curiosity so well, you will find her an exceedingly interested
listener to your history and adventures.”
“Yes,” said the charming voice of Antonia, “Thorwald has told me just
enough about you to make me want to know more. Your moon, which is so
much larger than our little satellites, caused a great sensation when it
was seen coming toward us so rapidly. The situation was well calculated
to cause us anxiety, if we had been subject to such a feeling, but, as
usual with us at the present day, it has turned out to our advantage;
for it has given us two such worthy representatives of a neighboring
race.”
“I am sure,” I answered, “that the advantage is greatly on our side.”
I could not say more, for I was conscious that the doctor was watching
closely to see how I was affected by the presence of this royal girl.
When he saw I was inclined to be somewhat quiet he felt impelled to say
something, and offered the following compromising remark:
“If we had only brought Mona safely off the moon with us, you would have
had something more worthy of your interest than we are, and my friend
here also would now be in better spirits.”
Antonia had a question in her eyes but her perfect breeding kept her
from putting it into words, after the final expression of the doctor’s
speech. Of course, I could not ignore the allusion, and said:
“Mona is a friend of the doctor’s whom I have not the pleasure of
knowing. I suppose he thinks her cheerful disposition, of which I have
heard before, would make our present situation even more enjoyable than
it is. Speaking for myself, however, I think that would be impossible.”
With that she rose, and, with a pleasant word of adieu to us, told
Thorwald she would come in another day after we were well rested.
It was now approaching night-fall and dinner was to be speedily
announced. The doctor and I were shown to a suite of dressing-rooms, and
as soon as we were alone he said:
“Do you think Antonia is as handsome as Mona?”
“If you will show me Mona I shall then be able to judge. But how did
I carry myself on my first introduction to a daughter of Mars? Do
you think I am in any danger of putting her in Margaret’s place in my
heart?”
“Perhaps not,” replied the doctor. “You kept command of yourself
pretty well; but I think the secret of that is that you have not quite
forgotten Mona.”
“Excuse my frankness, Doctor, but I must tell you I am getting a little
tired of Mona. I wish I might never hear her name again. If I can resist
the charms of such an exquisite bundle of perfections as Antonia is,
do you think I am likely to be overcome by a mocking-bird of your
imagination?”
“If you could only hear the voice of that bird once more,” replied the
doctor, “you would soon begin to sing another tune. But let us go down
if you are ready, and not keep them waiting.”
We had looked forward with much interest to our first meal in one of
these sumptuous houses, and, moreover, being quite hungry, we were glad
to find that we were just in time to sit down. If we had felt any
fear lest the absence of meat would make a meager bill of fare, the
experience of the next hour relieved us. The dishes were all strange,
but highly palatable, and the fact that there was nothing that appeared
to be in the least unwholesome did not detract from the delicious
savor which every viand possessed. The rich variety of courses and the
elegance of the service made it a dinner long to be remembered, and gave
a new zest to our life on Mars.
It had been a long day to us, and we were allowed to retire at an early
hour, being conducted to adjacent and communicating rooms. But, though
our fatigue was great, it is not strange that we lay awake awhile,
talking of the wonderful things we had seen and heard. Speaking of the
Martian method of rapid transit the doctor said:
“Besides its expedition, there is another feature to recommend their way
of traveling.”
“What is that?”
“Why, there is no danger of getting a seat just behind a window fiend.”
“There is something in that,” I answered, “but I am thinking just now
of our dinner. We must certainly learn how to cook eggs and vegetables
before we return to the earth.”
The character of our conversation, judged from these scraps, shows that
we had no excuse for remaining awake any longer.