ADRIFT IN THE SOLAR REGIONS
Life in the Argenta very monotonous. After the of despair, the of the of the Heavens to the the ship. They had no that were going. During the terror of the days time had so little to them that they had let them down. They now to set all the clocks, and judge the time accordingly, and plan out their days. Rise at eight; at one; tea at four; and dinner at seven and then to bed. The “night” would pass and they would another “day.”
They they had food to last the twelve earth months, and they in for three hundred and sixty-five days. And with the care, longer. “We can’t live in space for more than twelve months, surely,” said Mavis, but Sir John did not answer her. They had an of their water supply, and had the supply of water untouched. Still, they were to waste any for purposes, and it a to be allowed to their in any that was left over from cooking; a of cold tea proved a to them, and they in it and their and faces.
Alan a piece of paper on the of the cabin, and every night they retired, he would off the number of the day from the time they had their and to count again. Thirty, forty, fifty, so the “days” passed, and little 195John Alan enormously. The that had been packed in their were now too small for him, and Mavis was to use some of her own dresses, and cut them up for the child. He alone was of the of their position, and he and and his toes, in complete and delight. If anything, Mavis had more after the of her child. Her with pride, and her were with as she her baby, into such a life, day by day and more loving.
The library aboard, which Sir John had had the to in his Argenta, proved a to the travellers. Every day they read some old favourite, and their with Sam Weller, Pip, the Aged P, and Little Nell; laughed over the of the “Innocents Abroad” again the of “Three Men in a Boat.” But with these diversions, with chess, dominoes, and draughts; with and playing, they of their inactivity, and at their surroundings.
Their air supply was excellent; the failed in its work; the air and at times but by the of electric fans it was and purified. Every day they looked out of the little window, and in the of the heavens.
One day, it was the ninety-eighth according to Alan’s chart, Mavis them all by a exclamation.
“What is it, my dear?” asked Sir John, looking up from an game of he was with Alan.
“Look at Jupiter! Isn’t he large to-night?” said she. “Why, yesterday he looked like a big star, to-day he is like the moon at time.”
They all the little window.
“By Jove, you’re right,” said Alan. “We must be in a direct line toward him.”
“How plain the clouds are upon him,” said 196Desmond. “You can see them right across his face.”
The belts across the of Jupiter were very plain; across the surface of the they white, like of “snow-clouds” as in England on a summer’s day. From the region they merged, north and south from a colour, a deep, at the poles.
“Are they clouds like ours?” asked Mavis wonderingly.
“I don’t think it has been proved what they are,” answered Alan. “I think the is, that those clouds as you call them are, in reality, a vapour-laden that across the orb.”
“I should love to go there,” said Mavis.
“Well, it looks as though we were making for that part of the firmament,” said her uncle.
“It does,” she retorted. “But when shall we there?”
At that moment Masters and Hector came in, in great excitement.
“The are working,” Hector enthusiastically.
“What!” from all.
“It’s true. Masters and I were at them this morning, when the little starting round, there was a roar, a of sparks, and they started properly.”
This was good news, for since the end of the world the had been through space by some unknown influence; her not only to work but her to act.
“I ahead,” Masters. “I’ll have eight going, and then we ought to up a speed of over four hundred and fifty miles; that together with the we are already should help us in somewhere, if there is for us to get.”
Eagerly they all into the engine room, and 197watched one, then another of the powerful set going. They were to that they no in their speed; yet the registered four hundred and twenty miles, and all eight were merrily.
They to the bows, and the out them. They passed close to a star, name they did not know, and its up the little for fourteen days, that were marked off on Alan’s calendar. Then came another terrible time, when took of them all again, and they would sit, silent, into space. Their were and lustreless; their from of exercise, and their and sluggish.
Perhaps Alan the of air and most, but he to be the of them all.
“Oh, for some green vegetables,” Mavis one day. John Alan had been particularly restless, and she more than miserable.
“And of food,” on Alan cheerfully. “Crisp, long lettuces, the radish, juicy tomatoes, and above all the cool, slices of the cucumber.”
“Oh, Alan, I’m so miserable,” she sobbed. “Will this end? Shall we just die here, and this ship the of seven of the world? A always on, on, through space, through time, like some soul.”
“Lost world, you mean,” Alan. “You are mixing your metaphors, and when a lady that, it’s a sure she wants a cup of tea!”
“I don’t want a cup of tea, Alan. I just want to a of air. Alan, couldn’t you Masters to open the shutters? Couldn’t we just go on to the for five minutes—only five minutes?” she pleaded.
“My dear,” said Alan gently. “It’s impossible. Now to what I am saying. Long, long ago, we were out of the and the of our earth. In some way 198or other, the that the end of our world us through space where nothing is! Oh, I know it complicated, dear, but by all the knowledge of science, as by the most astronomers, long ago we should have been in space, unable to move or be moved, the of other worlds; just atoms, motionless, still. That hasn’t happened. We have the great authorities, and are being through the by some power of by the scientists of the earth. Still, dear, we do not know there is air outside. Should we the that protect us, we might we were unable to exist.”
“That’s the word,” Mavis. “We aren’t now. We are only existing. We don’t know from hour to hour what terrible may us. If by the we kill ourselves, surely that is than this death.”
“Mavis, Mavis, don’t.”
“Do you know we have only a month’s supply of food left?”
Alan looked at her in horror. “You don’t that, Mavis?” said he incredulously.
“My dear Alan, you are just like all men. Sufficient for the day! That’s your motto. You about the food. Since I took over the department, none of you have a bit, while day by day I’ve our stock of less and less. In a month’s time, Alan, our food will be totally exhausted.”
“What about the foods?”
“Oh we still have some of them—perhaps with they would last another four weeks, and then—the end.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before, Mavis?”
“Oh I couldn’t,” hysterically. “You were all so contented. Besides I didn’t the of it myself until to-day. Our is nearly gone. You said the wasn’t as good this morning. Of it wasn’t. It was just of every I think of to try and make it last out.”
199This news was serious, and Alan walked to his chart. Yes, he ought to have known. It registered five hundred and fifty-five days. Over eighteen earth months they had been through the heavens. Their food had magnificently.
“Water?” he queried.
“We the water long ago. I’m well through with the cubes.”
“Let me come and see the food supply.”
Carefully he over every item. Even yet, there to be to an army, but he how little there was in reality. “I think if we have one good a day, we ought to make it last longer,” said he. “After all, one good is than three small ones, and incidentally, we save over the one transaction. We must sleep longer, that’s all. We will up at noon, and have a cup of tea and a biscuit. At four we will have dinner, and if we retire at eight, a cup of then should us. The longer we in the less food we shall require. Come, let us tell the others.”
Sir John took the news very quietly. Not a of his twitched—he might have been a most ordinary announcement. Masters his indifferently, and Murdoch on with his work as if he had not heard. Desmond took the news badly, however. His ashen. “Why should this have come upon us?” he cried. “We had been through so much. Happiness came my way at last, and now—” He Mavis to him. “I won’t you. There must be some way out.”
“There is none, my boy,” said Sir John, “so you had make up your mind to that at once. Here we are and here we must remain, till by some intervention, we die, or are release.”
“Where shall we release?” from Desmond.
“In some new world, perhaps.”
“How big Jupiter is,” said Alan, looking out into the vastness. 200“He is a planet,” said Mavis.
“Is it my or are we down?” asked Sir John.
“I’ve the same thing myself,” said Masters. “For the last days I have noticed an in our speed.”
But although the was so as to be almost undiscernible, the new of gave the new life.
The days passed—the quantity of the food they daily less and less, and they were and every day. At length they gave up their cup of tea in the mornings—their tea had gone. Then they their dinner making one day’s of food last two! But all the same the day came only too soon, and five hundred and ninety-five days after Alan had put up his calendar, they they had only a of food left. They were all hungry. Little John Alan fretful, his mother feverish. There was in the little cabin, the of the grave. The little party were all asleep, when Alan rose. “What’s the matter?” he asked quickly.
“What is it?” asked his uncle.
“Don’t you realize?—we’ve stopped! We’ve stopped!” It was true, the Argenta was at last! At the same moment Masters came in.
“We’ve stopped!” he cried. “The have again to work.”
They all the little “lookout,” but see nothing. For the time for nearly two years their was limited. Gone was the of Jupiter, gone the Magellanic Cloud—gone, too, the many thousand points of light that the heavens. All about them was a moving vapour. It was clouds, but and like flakes. It was a that looked like steam—that again and took on the of thick smoke.
201“Where are we?” asked Mavis. “Can’t we out?”
“We’ll see,” said Alan soothingly.
But still Mavis on pleadingly. “Oh surely our has come at last. If we opened the now, we might free altogether.”
The next morning, Murdoch was missing. His had not been slept in. “Where’s Murdoch?” asked Alan of Masters.
“I don’t know. I’ve been him to me in the engine room every minute. Is he in the kitchen?”
“No. I can’t him anywhere.”
“Good God! Then I know what he has done,” said Masters brokenly. “He was very over Mrs. Desmond yesterday. She wanted me to open the shutters. Come.”
At the of the ship and on the was a little door in the metal covering. “He’s gone through there,” said Masters hoarsely. “He asked me a of questions about it last night. I told him about the of this and he we should go out on deck, and see if it was possible to breathe out there. I laughed at him and no more about the matter.”
As he was speaking he a about his nose and mouth, and his ears with with oil. He touched a and a of metal and when it rested at last in position, it a air tight the trap. “I shall open the as as I can,” said he quickly. “On the other the is opened up and there is a space left large to test the air. But by the of this “cubby-hole” we still have our protection safe all the ship. Now I am going out to see if Murdoch is there. If I don’t come back, don’t search for me. It will be too late.”
“Masters, don’t go!” Alan.
“I must go,” grimly, “but I of you, if I don’t return in ten minutes, I existed.”
Without another word he into the little chamber, and the door to after him. They 202heard the of a click, air, and then, silence.
Five minutes passed—six—seven—eight. Sir John, Desmond and Mavis had come up in time to the close, and Alan the position.
“Why did you let him go?” Mavis.
“Murdoch for you, my dear,” he answered sternly. “Masters to save him.”
Mavis her with her hands, and the her face.
“My dear, don’t take it to heart,” on Alan kindly. “If anything to Murdoch, he will have his life for his friends.”
Then a came from the little chamber. Quickly Alan touched the lever, the of metal rolled back, and two on their faces.
“Water,” Alan, and Mavis to some.
“Have you any left?” asked Sir John.
“A very little.”
“Bring some too,” he as Mavis into the kitchen. Tenderly they blood and from the of the men.
Masters opened his eyes. “Out there,” said he hoarsely. “Terrible smell—sulphuric—can’t breathe properly—whirling clouds—eyes smart—don’t go again.”
“He’ll do,” said Sir John. “How’s Murdoch?”
“He’s so cold,” said Mavis.
Alan took his place by the still form. “Brandy,” said he. He looked at the man on the floor. Thick like out upon his forehead. Blood from his nose, his ears, his mouth. His were swollen, and were in colour and cracked.
“He’s gone,” said Alan.
“Dead?” Mavis in horror.
“Quite dead.” Gently they the man, who had his life for his friends, to his little sleeping cabin. Tenderly they him on his bed, up his face, and closed the door 203them. Then they to Mavis who was over Masters.
“How is he?” asked Desmond.
“Better, I think. He asked for water. I think he is sleeping now.”
Alan over their old and valued friend. The look of had vanished, the subsided, he was naturally.
“Poor Murdoch,” Mavis. “I it was my fault. I was always you to open the and let us go outside.”
“Don’t worry, little one,” said Sir John. “He died like an English gentleman.”
“Oh how terrible is,” she hysterically. “There no end to our torment. Oh this place, this ship of doom!”
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