A Journey in Other Worlds [31]
protection-wires, aneroid barometer,
and kodaks.
CHAPTER VIII.
GOOD-BYE.
At last the preparations were completed, and it was arranged that
the Callisto should begin its journey at eleven o'clock A. M.,
December 21st--the northern hemisphere's shortest day.
Though six months' operations could hardly be expected to have
produced much change in the inclination of the earth's axis, the
autumn held on wonderfully, and December was pronounced very
mild. Fully a million people were in and about Van Cortlandt
Park hours before the time announced for the start, and those
near looked inquiringly at the trim little air-ship, that, having
done well on the trial trip, rested on her longitudinal and
transverse keels, with a battery of chemicals alongside, to make
sure of a full power supply.
The President and his Cabinet--including, of course, the shining
lights of the State and Navy Departments--came from Washington.
These, together with Mr. and Mrs. Preston, and a number of people
with passes, occupied seats arranged at the sides of the
platform; while sightseers and scientists assembled from every
part of the world.
"There's a ship for you!" said Secretary Stillman to the
Secretary of the Navy. "She'll not have to be dry-docked for
barnacles, neither will the least breeze make the passengers
sick."
"That's all you landlubbers think of," replied Deepwaters. "I
remember one of the kings over in Europe said to me, as he
introduced me to the queen: 'Your Secretary of State is a great
man, but why does he always part his hair in the middle?'
"'So that it shall not turn his head,' I replied.
"'But with so gallant and handsome an officer as you to lean
upon,' he answered, 'I should think he could look down on all the
world.' Whereupon I asked him what he'd take to drink."
"Your apology is accepted," replied Secretary Stillman.
Cortlandt also came from Washington, where, as chief of the
Government's Expert Examiners Board, he had temporary quarters.
Bearwarden sailed over the spectators' heads in one of the
Terrestrial Axis Straightening Company's flying machines, while
Ayrault, to avoid the crowd, had come to the Callisto early, and
was showing the interior arrangements to Sylvia, who had
accompanied him. She was somewhat piqued because at the last
moment he had not absolutely insisted on carrying her off, or
offered, if necessary, to displace his presidential and
Doctor-of-Laws friends in order to make room.
"You will have an ideal trip," she said, looking over some
astronomical star-charts and photographic maps of Jupiter and
Saturn that lay on the table, with a pair of compasses, "and I
hope you won't lose your way."
"I shall need no compass to find my way back," replied Ayrault,
"if I ever succeed in leaving this planet; neither will
star-charts be necessary, for you will be a magnet stronger than
any compass, and, compared with my star, all others are dim."
"You should write a book," said Sylvia, "and put some of those
things in it." She was wearing a bunch of forget-me-nots and
violets that she had cut from a small flower-garden of potted
plants Ayrault had sent her, which she had placed in her father's
conservatory.
At this moment the small chime clock set in the Callisto's
wood-work rang out quarter to eleven. As the sounds died away,
Sylvia became very pale, and began to regret in her womanly way
that she had allowed her hero to attempt this experiment.
"Oh," she said, clinging to his arm, "it was very wrong of me to
let you begin this. I was so dazzled by the splendour of your
scheme when I heard it, and so anxious that you should have the
glory of being the first to surpass Columbus, that I did not
realize the full meaning. I thought, also, you seemed rather
ready to leave me," she added gently, "and so said little; you do
not know how it almost breaks my heart now that I am about to
lose you. It was quixotic to let you
and kodaks.
CHAPTER VIII.
GOOD-BYE.
At last the preparations were completed, and it was arranged that
the Callisto should begin its journey at eleven o'clock A. M.,
December 21st--the northern hemisphere's shortest day.
Though six months' operations could hardly be expected to have
produced much change in the inclination of the earth's axis, the
autumn held on wonderfully, and December was pronounced very
mild. Fully a million people were in and about Van Cortlandt
Park hours before the time announced for the start, and those
near looked inquiringly at the trim little air-ship, that, having
done well on the trial trip, rested on her longitudinal and
transverse keels, with a battery of chemicals alongside, to make
sure of a full power supply.
The President and his Cabinet--including, of course, the shining
lights of the State and Navy Departments--came from Washington.
These, together with Mr. and Mrs. Preston, and a number of people
with passes, occupied seats arranged at the sides of the
platform; while sightseers and scientists assembled from every
part of the world.
"There's a ship for you!" said Secretary Stillman to the
Secretary of the Navy. "She'll not have to be dry-docked for
barnacles, neither will the least breeze make the passengers
sick."
"That's all you landlubbers think of," replied Deepwaters. "I
remember one of the kings over in Europe said to me, as he
introduced me to the queen: 'Your Secretary of State is a great
man, but why does he always part his hair in the middle?'
"'So that it shall not turn his head,' I replied.
"'But with so gallant and handsome an officer as you to lean
upon,' he answered, 'I should think he could look down on all the
world.' Whereupon I asked him what he'd take to drink."
"Your apology is accepted," replied Secretary Stillman.
Cortlandt also came from Washington, where, as chief of the
Government's Expert Examiners Board, he had temporary quarters.
Bearwarden sailed over the spectators' heads in one of the
Terrestrial Axis Straightening Company's flying machines, while
Ayrault, to avoid the crowd, had come to the Callisto early, and
was showing the interior arrangements to Sylvia, who had
accompanied him. She was somewhat piqued because at the last
moment he had not absolutely insisted on carrying her off, or
offered, if necessary, to displace his presidential and
Doctor-of-Laws friends in order to make room.
"You will have an ideal trip," she said, looking over some
astronomical star-charts and photographic maps of Jupiter and
Saturn that lay on the table, with a pair of compasses, "and I
hope you won't lose your way."
"I shall need no compass to find my way back," replied Ayrault,
"if I ever succeed in leaving this planet; neither will
star-charts be necessary, for you will be a magnet stronger than
any compass, and, compared with my star, all others are dim."
"You should write a book," said Sylvia, "and put some of those
things in it." She was wearing a bunch of forget-me-nots and
violets that she had cut from a small flower-garden of potted
plants Ayrault had sent her, which she had placed in her father's
conservatory.
At this moment the small chime clock set in the Callisto's
wood-work rang out quarter to eleven. As the sounds died away,
Sylvia became very pale, and began to regret in her womanly way
that she had allowed her hero to attempt this experiment.
"Oh," she said, clinging to his arm, "it was very wrong of me to
let you begin this. I was so dazzled by the splendour of your
scheme when I heard it, and so anxious that you should have the
glory of being the first to surpass Columbus, that I did not
realize the full meaning. I thought, also, you seemed rather
ready to leave me," she added gently, "and so said little; you do
not know how it almost breaks my heart now that I am about to
lose you. It was quixotic to let you