Fifteen Hundred Miles An Hour 5

Fifteen Hundred Miles An Hour 5

"Thank heaven, the motors are safe," said Graham.

 

"It is only the pin out of the rod of one of the condensing pistons,"

calmly remarked the Doctor; and Graham soon put all to rights again.

 

Some time elapsed before the excitable Sandy could be pacified. He

fully expected we were going to be dashed to pieces on the distant

Earth. The Doctor took this opportunity of pointing out to us how

necessary it was to keep a constant watch on our apparatus; for the

least mishap might speedily lead to a calamity so appalling as to send

a thrill of horror to the stoutest heart amongst us at the mere thought

of it.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER III.

 

 

OUR VOYAGE BEYOND THE CLOUDS.

 

 

Long before morning dawned over Earth, on the second day of our voyage

through space, we had reached such an enormous altitude, that even

the outlines of the continents could not be traced with any degree

of clearness. The large masses of land were sharply defined from the

oceans, but all trace of peninsulas, isthmuses, and islands was lost.

The Polar crescents of gleaming snow stood clearly out in bold relief,

but the waters of the Earth were becoming very grey in appearance.

 

By 9 a.m. on the 3rd of May, we were close upon forty thousand miles

above the Earth. Our life in the _Sirius_ was very methodical, and

a brief description of one day's routine will be sufficient for the

purposes of this narrative.

 

Every two hours of night the watch was relieved, the person left in

charge being responsible for the safe working of the various apparatus.

At 7 a.m. Sandy prepared breakfast; at 1 p.m. we had dinner; at 5 p.m.,

tea; at 9 p.m., supper. The intervals between meals were passed by

the Doctor almost exclusively in scientific observations, writing his

journals, and carefully inspecting the machinery and instruments. To

Graham was allotted the task of keeping all in order, and compiling a

record of the distance travelled each day. Temple assisted the Doctor

in many of his labours. He was likewise busy upon a work on finance--a

great scheme for liquidating the national debts of Europe, which had

been a favourite hobby of his for years. He also helped to write much

of the present journal. Sandy's time was fully taken up in various

domestic arrangements, and in looking after his dog. We usually went

to bed at 11 p.m., but if anything exceptional occurred we stayed up

later, and sometimes we were too excited to go to rest at all. The

Doctor insisted on each one of the party taking a certain amount of

exercise daily, and also swallowing a small dose of a drug of his own

discovery.

 

For the first week our voyage was somewhat uneventful. Each day we

continued to dash with stupendous speed towards the zenith. The earth,

now, was greatly and rapidly changing in appearance. Our nights were

remarkably short, and the period of sunlight became longer and longer

in duration. We were soon to pass beyond the influence of the Earth's

shadow, and to enter a region of perpetual day.

 

On the tenth day of our departure from Earth, when we were quite

360,000 miles above its surface, the moon completed her sideral

revolution, and we saw the outer surface of the satellite for the first

time in the history of mankind.

 

Unfortunately, we were too far away to make a very minute examination,

but the scene vividly depicted through the Doctor's largest telescope

was one never likely to be forgotten. We were gazing upon a new world;

the eyes of mortal man had never rested on that portion of the moon's

surface now before us; and, oh, how different did it appear from that

pale orb we are all of us so accustomed to see lighting the darkness

of Earth! Perhaps it is well that her gleaming yellow surface remains

unchanged, in aspect, to all mortal eyes. Her surface, to the dwellers

upon Earth, has become a symbol of peace, eloquent of deathly calm.

 

Our nights now became shorter and shorter--with great rapidity, until,

at the end of the third week of our departure from Earth, when we had

accomplished a distance of 800,000 miles, we reached those remote

regions of space where the mighty shadow, cast by our planet, tapers

down to a point, and the sun in all his glory reigns eternally supreme.

 

Our sensations were almost beyond description when the _Sirius_ was at

last fairly launched into the vast, boundless void of silent space. So

long as we felt the influence of Earth, and journeyed on our way under

the shelter of her mighty shadow, the bonds that held us to our mother

world were still unbroken.

 

Then, things at least seemed earthly. Now, every Earth-tie was severed;

surrounded by a solemn, limitless sea of space, unconceivable,

unfathomable, filled with brilliant and eternal light, such as no man

had beheld before, every one of us was filled with awe; and even the

ever-cool and dauntless Doctor himself was well-nigh overwhelmed with

the majestic splendour of the scene around us. We felt as if we had

now ceased to be human; that we no longer belonged to Earth, but were

outcasts, with no home or bond of human fellowship away from our

floating carriage; doomed to live for ever, and to spend eternity in

crossing this radiant ether sea! The silence was profound. The calmest

stillness of Earth is as the tempest-roar in comparison with the

awe-inspiring quietness of Here! The very beating of our pulses rang

clearly out on space; the ticking of our watches became even painful in

its loud intensity. Our hearts and our courage began to fail us. Only

the Doctor, with his nerves of steel, refrained from uttering words

of regret for thus rashly leaving Earth for the sake of prying into

the very laboratory of the Universe! Supernatural influences seemed to

surround us. We started as men; we seemed to be fast evolving into new

beings, governed by no human impulses--controlled by no human forces.

Still the _Sirius_ sped on. Upwards the good air-ship flashed with

terrible velocity, bearing us whither--ah, whither? When we became more

familiar with the vastness around us, the feelings of dread passed

gradually away.

 

The view from the windows was impressively grand. The sun shone with

a brilliancy unknown on Earth, even in the tropics, but the heat was

by no means oppressive. Far as the eye could reach, all was brilliant

yellow light, endless, profound!

 

We now derived the greatest benefit from the spectacles, prepared on

the same principle as the helioscope, which Doctor Hermann had provided

for our use, the brilliancy of the light being most painful and trying

to the eyes. Time, now, was one endless day of brightest sunshine,

so that our only means of judging the hours of day, and what we

still called night for the sake of convenience, was by the aid of our

chronometers.

 

Soon after we reached these remote regions of eternal light, we began

to experience considerable difficulty in breathing. At times this

became so bad, that all of us lapsed into a state of semi-stupor. This

caused us the gravest anxiety and alarm, and as we sped onwards the

trouble increased. Clearly something was going wrong. The terrible

thought that air was absolutely about to fail us, in spite of all the

Doctor's careful experiments and calculations, filled us with thoughts

too horrible to express. The condensers worked admirably, but driven

at their utmost capacity, they still failed to furnish sufficient

breathable atmosphere. Singularly enough, poor Rover felt this

diminishing supply of air far more than his human companions, and for

hours scarcely moved or breathed. The Doctor was puzzled, Graham was

perplexed, Temple and Sandy very much depressed--the latter especially

so. After many careful experiments and a thorough examination of

the _Sirius_, we at last found the cause in a loosened window. The

remedying of this necessitated one of us going out on to the balcony

and climbing the corniced sides.

 

Graham volunteered the hazardous duty.

 

The Doctor, with his usual forethought, and showing how well he had

planned-out his gigantic scheme to the very smallest detail, and how

carefully he had provided for all the contingencies human intelligence

could foresee, had brought with him a modified diver's helmet, with the

air-tubes attached, and a small cock-tap was fastened in the side of

the _Sirius_, through which air-pipes could be passed. This apparatus

we adjusted on Graham's head, and round his body hung a coil of fine

manilla rope. Our speed was now considerably reduced. While the Doctor

assisted him to mount the ladder which led to the door, and opened and

closed it as he went through on to the balcony, Temple and Sandy worked

the pumps which supplied him with air. This door had to be closed very

quickly, to prevent our own air escaping. We eventually heard him at

work on the defective window, and the great improvement in the air

of our chambers was sufficient evidence that he had succeeded in his

task. Still, he did not return; for quite ten minutes we were in the

greatest suspense as to his movements. The air-pipes had been drawn

out nearly to their fullest extent, which was a singular circumstance,

and one that seemed to bode no good, as half their length was amply

sufficient for Graham's needs. Our concern rapidly grew into absolute

alarm for the safety of our companion, until at last we had the signal

that he was waiting to be admitted. It was a welcome relief to us all,

and Sandy could not refrain from uttering cheer after cheer of welcome,

forgetting his work of pumping until sternly called to his duty by

the Doctor. As soon as the door was opened, poor Graham fell into the

Doctor's arms, and for several hours he lay unconscious, in spite of

all our remedies and careful treatment. Something had happened, and for

an explanation of the mystery we had to wait until our friend regained

consciousness, and was able to relate his thrilling story. This he must

tell in his own words.

 

"Notwithstanding the still high rate of speed at which we were

travelling, I experienced no inconvenience upon getting to the

balcony," began Graham, drinking off a small glass of strong brandy

which Temple insisted on his taking, "nor did I have any trouble in

climbing up the ring ladder to the defective window. The damage was

trifling in itself, and easily repaired; but I noticed, as I went

up, what looked to be a long crack in the side of the _Sirius_, and

determined to lower myself down and examine it. I fastened the rope to

one of the rings, and lowered a part of it sufficiently long to reach

the supposed crack: the end of the rope hung loosely down into space

from the ring above. I cautiously began to descend, hand under hand,

down the smooth, gleaming side of the _Sirius_. The distance seemed

longer than I had calculated, and I could not see very well out of the

glasses, for my breath dimmed them. I went cautiously lower and lower,