The Master of the World

By

Jules Verne

www.freeclassicebooks.com

Contents

Chapter 1 - WHAT HAPPENED IN THE MOUNTAINS.. 3

Chapter 2 - I REACH MORGANTON.. 13

Chapter 3 - THE GREAT EYRIE.. 25

Chapter 4 - A MEETING OF THE AUTOMOBILE CLUB.. 40

Chapter 5 - ALONG THE SHORES OF NEW ENGLAND.. 52

Chapter 6 - THE FIRST LETTER.. 64

Chapter 7 - A THIRD MACHINE.. 73

Chapter 8 - AT ANY COST.. 85

Chapter 9 - THE SECOND LETTER.. 98

Chapter 10 - OUTSIDE THE LAW... 100

Chapter 11 - THE CAMPAIGN.. 111

Chapter 12 - BLACK ROCK CREEK.. 124

Chapter 13 - ON BOARD THE TERROR.. 138

Chapter 14 - NIAGARA.. 150

Chapter 15 - THE EAGLE'S NEST.. 166

Chapter 16 - ROBUR, THE CONQUEROR.. 178

Chapter 17 - IN THE NAME OF THE LAW... 185

Chapter 18 - THE OLD HOUSEKEEPER'S LAST COMMENT.. 202

Chapter 1 - WHAT HAPPENED IN THE MOUNTAINS

If I speak of myself in this story, it is because I have been deeply

involved in its startling events, events doubtless among the most

extraordinary which this twentieth century will witness. Sometimes I

even ask myself if all this has really happened, if its pictures

dwell in truth in my memory, and not merely in my imagination. In my

position as head inspector in the federal police department at

Washington, urged on moreover by the desire, which has always been

very strong in me, to investigate and understand everything which is

mysterious, I naturally became much interested in these remarkable

occurrences. And as I have been employed by the government in various

important affairs and secret missions since I was a mere lad, it also

happened very naturally that the head of my department placed In my

charge this astonishing investigation, wherein I found myself

wrestling with so many impenetrable mysteries.

In the remarkable passages of the recital, it is important that you

should believe my word. For some of the facts I can bring no other

testimony than my own. If you do not wish to believe me, so be it. I

can scarce believe it all myself.

The strange occurrences began in the western part of our great

American State of North Carolina. There, deep amid the Blueridge

Mountains rises the crest called the Great Eyrie. Its huge rounded

form is distinctly seen from the little town of Morganton on the

Catawba River, and still more clearly as one approaches the mountains

by way of the village of Pleasant Garden.

Why the name of Great Eyrie was originally given this mountain by the

people of the surrounding region, I am not quite Sure It rises rocky

and grim and inaccessible, and under certain atmospheric conditions

has a peculiarly blue and distant effect. But the idea one would

naturally get from the name is of a refuge for birds of prey, eagles

condors, vultures; the home of vast numbers of the feathered tribes,

wheeling and screaming above peaks beyond the reach of man. Now, the

Great Eyrie did not seem particularly attractive to birds; on the

contrary, the people of the neighborhood began to remark that on some

days when birds approached its summit they mounted still further,

circled high above the crest, and then flew swiftly away, troubling

the air with harsh cries.

Why then the name Great Eyrie? Perhaps the mount might better have

been called a crater, for in the center of those steep and rounded

walls there might well be a huge deep basin. Perhaps there might even

lie within their circuit a mountain lake, such as exists in other

parts of the Appalachian mountain system, a lagoon fed by the rain

and the winter snows.

In brief was not this the site of an ancient volcano, one which had

slept through ages, but whose inner fires might yet reawake? Might

not the Great Eyrie reproduce in its neighborhood the violence of

Mount Krakatoa or the terrible disaster of Mont Pelee? If there were

indeed a central lake, was there not danger that its waters,

penetrating the strata beneath, would be turned to steam by the

volcanic fires and tear their way forth in a tremendous explosion,

deluging the fair plains of Carolina with an eruption such as that of

1902 in Martinique?

Indeed, with regard to this last possibility there had been certain

symptoms recently observed which might well be due to volcanic

action. Smoke had floated above the mountain and once the country

folk passing near had heard subterranean noises, unexplainable

rumblings. A glow in the sky had crowned the height at night.

When the wind blew the smoky cloud eastward toward Pleasant Garden, a

few cinders and ashes drifted down from it. And finally one stormy

night pale flames, reflected from the clouds above the summit, cast

upon the district below a sinister, warning light.

In presence of these strange phenomena, it is not astonishing that

the people of the surrounding district became seriously disquieted.

And to the disquiet was joined an imperious need of knowing the true

condition of the mountain. The Carolina newspapers had flaring

headlines, "The Mystery of Great Eyrie!" They asked if it was not

dangerous to dwell in such a region. Their articles aroused curiosity

and fear--curiosity among those who being in no danger themselves

were interested in the disturbance merely as a strange phenomenon of

nature, fear in those who were likely to be the victims if a

catastrophe actually occurred. Those more immediately threatened were

the citizens of Morganton, and even more the good folk of Pleasant

Garden and the hamlets and farms yet closer to the mountain.

Assuredly it was regrettable that mountain climbers had not

previously attempted to ascend to the summit of the Great Eyrie. The

cliffs of rock which surrounded it had never been scaled. Perhaps

they might offer no path by which even the most daring climber could

penetrate to the interior. Yet, if a volcanic eruption menaced all

the western region of the Carolinas, then a complete examination of

the mountain was become absolutely necessary.

Now before the actual ascent of the crater, with its many serious

difficulties, was attempted, there was one way which offered an

opportunity of reconnoitering the interior, with out clambering up

the precipices. In the first days of September of that memorable

year, a well-known aeronaut named Wilker came to Morganton with his

balloon. By waiting for a breeze from the east, he could easily rise

in his balloon and drift over the Great Eyrie. There from a safe

height above he could search with a powerful glass into its deeps.

Thus he would know if the mouth of a volcano really opened amid the

mighty rocks. This was the principal question. If this were settled,

it would be known if the surrounding country must fear an eruption at

some period more or less distant.

The ascension was begun according to the programme suggested. The

wind was fair and steady; the sky clear; the morning clouds were

disappearing under the vigorous rays of the sun. If the interior of

the Great Eyrie was not filled with smoke, the aeronaut would be able

to search with his glass its entire extent. If the vapors were

rising, he, no doubt, could detect their source.

The balloon rose at once to a height of fifteen hundred feet, and

there rested almost motionless for a quarter of an hour. Evidently

the east wind, which was brisk upon the Surface of the earth, did not

make itself felt at that height. Then, unlucky chance, the balloon

was caught in an adverse current, and began to drift toward the east.

Its distance from the mountain chain rapidly increased. Despite all

the efforts of the aeronaut, the citizens of Morganton saw the

balloon disappear on the wrong horizon. Later, they learned that it

had landed in the neighborhood of Raleigh, the capital of North

Carolina.

This attempt having failed, it was agreed that it should be tried

again under better conditions. Indeed, fresh rumblings were heard

from the mountain, accompanied by heavy clouds and wavering

glimmerings of light at night. Folk began to realize that the Great

Eyrie was a serious and perhaps imminent source of danger. Yes, the

entire country lay under the threat of some seismic or volcanic

disaster.

During the first days of April of that year, these more or less vague

apprehensions turned to actual panic. The newspapers gave prompt echo

to the public terror. The entire district between the mountains and

Morganton was sure that an eruption was at hand.

The night of the fourth of April, the good folk of Pleasant Garden

were awakened by a sudden uproar. They thought that the mountains

were falling upon them. They rushed from their houses, ready for

instant flight, fearing to see open before them some immense abyss,

engulfing the farms and villages for miles around.

The night was very dark. A weight of heavy clouds pressed down upon

the plain. Even had it been day the crest of the mountains would have

been invisible.

In the midst of this impenetrable obscurity, there was no response to

the cries which arose from every side. Frightened groups of men,

women, and children groped their way along the black roads in wild

confusion. From every quarter came the screaming voices: "It is an

earthquake!" "It is an eruption!" "Whence comes it?" "From the Great

Eyrie!"

Into Morganton sped the news that stones, lava, ashes, were raining

down upon the country.

Shrewd citizens of the town, however, observed that if there were an

eruption the noise would have continued and increased, the flames

would have appeared above the crater; or at least their lurid

reflections would have penetrated the clouds. Now, even these

reflections were no longer seen. If there had been an earthquake, the

terrified people saw that at least their houses had not crumbled

beneath the shock. It was possible that the uproar had been caused by

an avalanche, the fall of some mighty rock from the summit of the

mountains.

An hour passed without other incident. A wind from the west sweeping

over the long chain of the Blueridge, set the pines and hemlocks

wailing on the higher slopes. There seemed no new cause for panic;

and folk began to return to their houses. All, however, awaited

impatiently the return of day.

Then suddenly, toward three o'clock in the morning, another alarm!

Flames leaped up above the rocky wall of the Great Eyrie. Reflected

from the clouds, they illuminated the atmosphere for a great

distance. A crackling, as if of many burning trees, was heard.

Had a fire spontaneously broken out? And to what cause was it due?

Lightning could not have started the conflagration; for no thunder

had been heard. True, there was plenty of material for fire; at this

height the chain of the Blueridge is well wooded. But these flames

were too sudden for any ordinary cause.

"An eruption! An eruption!"

The cry resounded from all sides. An eruption! The Great Eyrie was

then indeed the crater of a volcano buried in the bowels of the

mountains. And after so many years, so many ages even, had it

reawakened? Added to the flames, was a rain of stones and ashes about

to follow? Were the lavas going to pour down torrents of molten fire,

destroying everything in their passage, annihilating the towns, the

villages, the farms, all this beautiful world of meadows, fields and

forests, even as far as Pleasant Garden and Morganton?

This time the panic was overwhelming; nothing could stop it. Women

carrying their infants, crazed with terror, rushed along the eastward

roads. Men, deserting their homes, made hurried bundles of their most

precious belongings and set free their livestock, cows, sheep, pigs,

which fled in all directions. What disorder resulted from this

agglomeration, human and animal, under darkest night, amid forests,

threatened by the fires of the volcano, along the border of marshes

whose waters might be upheaved and overflow! With the earth itself

threatening to disappear from under the feet of the fugitives! Would

they be in time to save themselves, if a cascade of glowing lava came

rolling down the slope of the mountain across their route?

Nevertheless, some of the chief and shrewder farm owners were not

swept away in this mad flight, which they did their best to restrain.

Venturing within a mile of the mountain, they saw that the glare of

the flames was decreasing. In truth it hardly seemed that the region

was immediately menaced by any further upheaval. No stones were being

hurled into space; no torrent of lava was visible upon the slopes; no

rumblings rose from the ground. There was no further manifestation of

any seismic disturbance capable of overwhelming the land.

At length, the flight of the fugitives ceased at a distance where

they seemed secure from all danger. Then a few ventured back toward

the mountain. Some farms were reoccupied before the break of day.

By morning the crests of the Great Eyrie showed scarcely the least

remnant of its cloud of smoke. The fires were certainly at an end;

and if it were impossible to determine their cause, one might at

least hope that they would not break out again.

It appeared possible that the Great Eyrie had not really been the

theater of volcanic phenomena at all. There was no further evidence

that the neighborhood was at the mercy either of eruptions or of

earthquakes.

Yet once more about five o'clock, from beneath the ridge of the

mountain, where the shadows of night still lingered, a strange noise

swept across the air, a sort of whirring, accompanied by the beating

of mighty wings. And had it been a clear day, perhaps the farmers

would have seen the passage of a mighty bird of prey, some monster of

the skies, which having risen from the Great Eyrie sped away toward

the east.

Chapter 2 - I REACH MORGANTON

The twenty-seventh of April, having left Washington the night before,

I arrived at Raleigh, the capital of the State of North Carolina.

Two days before, the head of the federal police had called me to his

room. He was awaiting me with some impatience. "John Strock," said

he, "are you still the man who on so many occasions has proven to me

both his devotion and his ability?"

"Mr. Ward," I answered, with a bow, "I cannot promise success or even

ability, but as to devotion, I assure you, it is yours."

"I do not doubt it," responded the chief. "And I will ask you instead

this more exact question: Are you as fond of riddles as ever? As

eager to penetrate into mysteries, as I have known you before?"

"I am, Mr. Ward."

"Good, Strock; then listen."

Mr. Ward, a man of about fifty years, of great power and intellect,

was fully master of the important position he filled. He had several

times entrusted to me difficult missions which I had accomplished

successfully, and which had won me his confidence. For several months

past, however, he had found no occasion for my services. Therefore I

awaited with impatience what he had to say. I did not doubt that his

questioning implied a serious and important task for me.

"Doubtless you know," said he, "what has happened down in the

Blueridge Mountains near Morganton."

"Surely, Mr. Ward, the phenomena reported from there have been

singular enough to arouse anyone's curiosity."

"They are singular, even remarkable, Strock. No doubt about that. But

there is also reason to ask, if these phenomena about the Great Eyrie

are not a source of continued danger to the people there, if they are

not forerunners of some disaster as terrible as it is mysterious."

"It is to be feared, sir."

"So we must know, Strock, what is inside of that mountain. If we are

helpless in the face of some great force of nature, people must be

warned in time of the danger which threatens them."

"It is clearly the duty of the authorities, Mr. Ward," responded I,

"to learn what is going on within there."

"True, Strock; but that presents great difficulties. Everyone reports

that it is impossible to scale the precipices of the Great Eyrie and

reach its interior. But has anyone ever attempted it with scientific

appliances and under the best conditions? I doubt it, and believe a

resolute attempt may bring success."

"Nothing is impossible, Mr. Ward; what we face here is merely a

question of expense."

"We must not regard expense when we are seeking to reassure an entire

population, or to preserve it from a catastrophe. There is another

suggestion I would make to you. Perhaps this Great Eyrie is not so

inaccessible as is supposed. Perhaps a band of malefactors have

secreted themselves there, gaining access by ways known only to

themselves."

"What! You suspect that robbers--"

"Perhaps I am wrong, Strock; and these strange sights and sounds have

all had natural causes. Well, that is what we have to settle, and as

quickly as possible."

"I have one question to ask."

"Go ahead, Strock."

"When the Great Eyrie has been visited, when we know the source of

these phenomena, if there really is a crater there and an eruption is

imminent, can we avert it?"

"No, Strock; but we can estimate the extent of the danger. If some

volcano in the Alleghanies threatens North Carolina with a disaster

similar to that of Martinique, buried beneath the outpourings of Mont

Pelee, then these people must leave their homes."

"I hope, sir, there is no such widespread danger."

"I think not, Strock; it seems to me highly improbable that an active

volcano exists in the Blueridge mountain chain. Our Appalachian

mountain system is nowhere volcanic in its origin. But all these

events cannot be without basis. In short, Strock, we have decided to

make a strict inquiry into the phenomena of the Great Eyrie, to

gather all the testimony, to question the people of the towns and

farms. To do this, I have made choice of an agent in whom we have

full confidence; and this agent is you, Strock."

"Good! I am ready, Mr. Ward," cried I, "and be sure that I shall

neglect nothing to bring you full information."

"I know it, Strock, and I will add that I regard you as specially

fitted for the work. You will have a splendid opportunity to

exercise, and I hope to satisfy, your favorite passion of curiosity."

"As you say, sir."

"You will be free to act according to circumstances. As to expenses,

if there seems reason to organize an ascension party, which will be

costly, you have carte blanche."

"I will act as seems best, Mr. Ward."

"Let me caution you to act with all possible discretion. The people

in the vicinity are already over-excited. It will be well to move

secretly. Do not mention the suspicions I have suggested to you. And

above all, avoid arousing any fresh panic."

"It is understood."

"You will be accredited to the Mayor of Morganton, who will assist

you. Once more, be prudent, Strock, and acquaint no one with your

mission, unless it is absolutely necessary. You have often given

proofs of your intelligence and address; and this time I feel assured

you will succeed."

I asked him only "When shall I start?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, I shall leave Washington; and the day after, I shall be at

Morganton."

How little suspicion had I of what the future had in store for me!

I returned immediately to my house where I made my preparations for

departure; and the next evening found me in Raleigh. There I passed

the night, and in the course of the next afternoon arrived at the

railroad station of Morganton.

Morganton is but a small town, built upon strata of the jurassic

period, particularly rich in coal. Its mines give it some prosperity.

It also has numerous unpleasant mineral waters, so that the season

there attracts many visitors. Around Morganton is a rich farming

country, with broad fields of grain. It lies in the midst of swamps,

covered with mosses and reeds. Evergreen forests rise high up the

mountain slopes. All that the region lacks is the wells of natural

gas, that invaluable natural source of power, light, and warmth, so

abundant in most of the Alleghany valleys. Villages and farms are

numerous up to the very borders of the mountain forests. Thus there

were many thousands of people threatened, if the Great Eyrie proved

indeed a volcano, if the convulsions of nature extended to Pleasant

Garden and to Morganton.

The mayor of Morganton, Mr. Elias Smith, was a tall man, vigorous and

enterprising, forty years old or more, and of a health to defy all

the doctors of the two Americas. He was a great hunter of bears and

panthers, beasts which may still be found in the wild gorges and

mighty forests of the Alleghanies.

Mr. Smith was himself a rich land-owner, possessing several farms in

the neighborhood. Even his most distant tenants received frequent

visits from him. Indeed, whenever his official duties did not keep

him in his so-called home at Morganton, he was exploring the

surrounding country, irresistibly drawn by the instincts of the

hunter.

I went at once to the house of Mr. Smith. He was expecting me, having

been warned by telegram. He received me very frankly, without any

formality, his pipe in his mouth, a glass of brandy on the table. A

second glass was brought in by a servant, and I had to drink to my

host before beginning our interview.

"Mr. Ward sent you," said he to me in a jovial tone. "Good; let us

drink to Mr. Ward's health."

I clinked glasses with him, and drank in honor of the chief of police.

"And now," demanded Elias Smith, "what is worrying him?"

At this I made known to the mayor of Morganton the cause and the

purpose of my mission in North Carolina. I assured him that my chief

had given me full power, and would render me every assistance,

financial and otherwise, to solve the riddle and relieve the

neighborhood of its anxiety relative to the Great Eyrie.

Elias Smith listened to me without uttering a word, but not without

several times refilling his glass and mine. While he puffed steadily

at his pipe, the close attention which he gave me was beyond

question. I saw his cheeks flush at times, and his eyes gleam under

their bushy brows. Evidently the chief magistrate of Morganton was

uneasy about Great Eyrie, and would be as eager as I to discover the

cause of these phenomena.

When I had finished my communication, Elias Smith gazed at me for

some moments in silence. Then he said, softly, "So at Washington they

wish to know what the Great Eyrie hides within its circuit?"

"Yes, Mr. Smith."

"And you, also?"

"I do."

"So do I, Mr. Strock."

He and I were as one in our curiosity.

"You will understand," added he, knocking the cinders from his pipe,

"that as a land-owner, I am much interested in these stories of the

Great Eyrie, and as mayor, I wish to protect my constituents."

"A double reason," I commented, "to stimulate you to discover the

cause of these extraordinary occurrences! Without doubt, my dear Mr.

Smith, they have appeared to you as inexplicable and as threatening

as to your people."

"Inexplicable, certainly, Mr. Strock. For on my part, I do not

believe it possible that the Great Eyrie can be a volcano; the

Alleghanies are nowhere of volcanic origins. I, myself, in our

immediate district, have never found any geological traces of scoria,

or lava, or any eruptive rock whatever. I do not think, therefore,

that Morganton can possibly be threatened from such a source."

"You really think not, Mr. Smith?"

"Certainly."

"But these tremblings of the earth that have been felt in the

neighborhood!"

"Yes these tremblings! These tremblings!" repeated Mr. Smith, shaking

his head; "but in the first place, is it certain that there have been

tremblings? At the moment when the flames showed most sharply, I was

on my farm of Wildon, less than a mile from the Great Eyrie. There

was certainly a tumult in the air, but I felt no quivering of the

earth."

"But in the reports sent to Mr. Ward--"

"Reports made under the impulse of the panic," interrupted the mayor

of Morganton. "I said nothing of any earth tremors in mine."

"But as to the flames which rose clearly above the crest?"

"Yes, as to those, Mr. Strock, that is different. I saw them; saw

them with my own eyes, and the clouds certainly reflected them for

miles around. Moreover noises certainly came from the crater of the

Great Eyrie, hissings, as if a great boiler were letting off steam."

"You have reliable testimony of this?"

"Yes, the evidence of my own ears."

"And in the midst of this noise, Mr. Smith, did you believe that you

heard that most remarkable of all the phenomena, a sound like the

flapping of great wings?"

"I thought so, Mr. Strock; but what mighty bird could this be, which

sped away after the flames had died down, and what wings could ever

make such tremendous sounds. I therefore seriously question, if this

must not have been a deception of my imagination. The Great Eyrie a

refuge for unknown monsters of the sky! Would they not have been seen

long since, soaring above their immense nest of stone? In short,

there is in all this a mystery which has not yet been solved."

"But we will solve it, Mr. Smith, if you will give me your aid."

"Surely, Mr. Strock; tomorrow we will start our campaign."

"Tomorrow." And on that word the mayor and I separated. I went to a

hotel, and established myself for a stay which might be indefinitely

prolonged. Then having dined, and written to Mr. Ward, I saw Mr.

Smith again in the afternoon, and arranged to leave Morganton with

him at daybreak.

Our first purpose was to undertake the ascent of the mountain, with

the aid of two experienced guides. These men had ascended Mt.

Mitchell and others of the highest peaks of the Blueridge. They had

never, however, attempted the Great Eyrie, knowing that its walls of

inaccessible cliffs defended it on every side. Moreover, before the

recent startling occurrences the Great Eyrie had not particularly

attracted the attention of tourists. Mr. Smith knew the two guides

personally as men daring, skillful and trustworthy. They would stop

at no obstacle; and we were resolved to follow them through

everything.

Moreover Mr. Smith remarked at the last that perhaps it was no longer

as difficult as formerly to penetrate within the Great Eyrie.

"And why?" asked I.

"Because a huge block has recently broken away from the mountain side

and perhaps it has left a practicable path or entrance."

"That would be a fortunate chance, Mr. Smith."

"We shall know all about it, Mr. Strock, no later than tomorrow."

"Till tomorrow, then."

Chapter 3 - THE GREAT EYRIE

The next day at dawn, Elias Smith and I left Morganton by a road

which, winding along the left bank of the Catawba River, led to the

village of Pleasant Garden. The guides accompanied us, Harry Horn, a

man of thirty, and James Bruck, aged twenty-five. They were both

natives of the region, and in constant demand among the tourists who

climbed the peaks of the Blueridge and Cumberland Mountains.

A light wagon with two good horses was provided to carry us to the

foot of the range. It contained provisions for two or three days,

beyond which our trip surely would not be protracted. Mr. Smith had

shown himself a generous provider both in meats and in liquors. As to

water the mountain springs would furnish it in abundance, increased

by the heavy rains, frequent in that region during springtime.

It is needless to add that the Mayor of Morganton in his role of

hunter, had brought along his gun and his dog, Nisko, who gamboled

joyously about the wagon. Nisko, however, was to remain behind at the

farm at Wildon, when we attempted our ascent. He could not possibly

follow us to the Great Eyrie with its cliffs to scale and its

crevasses to cross.

The day was beautiful, the fresh air in that climate is still cool of

an April morning. A few fleecy clouds sped rapidly overhead, driven

by a light breeze which swept across the long plains, from the

distant Atlantic. The sun peeping forth at intervals, illumined all

the fresh young verdure of the countryside.

An entire world animated the woods through which we passed. From

before our equipage fled squirrels, field-mice, parroquets of

brilliant colors and deafening loquacity. Opossums passed in hurried

leaps, bearing their young in their pouches. Myriads of birds were

scattered amid the foliage of banyans, palms, and masses of

rhododendrons, so luxuriant that their thickets were impenetrable.

We arrived that evening at Pleasant Garden, where we were comfortably

located for the night with the mayor of the town, a particular friend

of Mr. Smith. Pleasant Garden proved little more than a village; but

its mayor gave us a warm and generous reception, and we supped

pleasantly in his charming home, which stood beneath the shades of

some giant beech-trees.

Naturally the conversation turned upon our attempt to explore the

interior of the Great Eyrie. "You are right," said our host, "until

we all know what is hidden within there, our people will remain

uneasy."

"Has nothing new occurred," I asked, "since the last appearance of

flames above the Great Eyrie?"

"Nothing, Mr. Strock. From Pleasant Garden we can see the entire

crest of the mountain. Not a suspicious noise has come down to us.

Not a spark has risen. If a legion of devils is in hiding there, they

must have finished their infernal cookery, and soared away to some

other haunt."

"Devils!" cried Mr. Smith. "Well, I hope they have not decamped

without leaving some traces of their occupation, some parings of

hoofs or horns or tails. We shall find them out."

On the morrow, the twenty-ninth of April, we started again at dawn.

By the end of this second day, we expected to reach the farm of

Wildon at the foot of the mountain. The country was much the same as

before, except that our road led more steeply upward. Woods and

marshes alternated, though the latter grew sparser, being drained by

the sun as we approached the higher levels. The country was also less

populous. There were only a few little hamlets, almost lost beneath

the beech trees, a few lonely farms, abundantly watered by the many

streams that rushed downward toward the Catawba River.

The smaller birds and beasts grew yet more numerous. "I am much

tempted to take my gun," said Mr. Smith, "and to go off with Nisko.

This will be the first time that I have passed here without trying my

luck with the partridges and hares. The good beasts will not

recognize me. But not only have we plenty of provisions, but we have

a bigger chase on hand today. The chase of a mystery."

"And let us hope," added I, "we do not come back disappointed

hunters."

In the afternoon the whole chain of the Blueridge stretched before us

at a distance of only six miles. The mountain crests were sharply

outlined against the clear sky. Well wooded at the base, they grew

more bare and showed only stunted evergreens toward the summit. There

the scraggly trees, grotesquely twisted, gave to the rocky heights a

bleak and bizarre appearance. Here and there the ridge rose in sharp

peaks. On our right the Black Dome, nearly seven thousand feet high,

reared its gigantic head, sparkling at times above the clouds.

"Have you ever climbed that dome, Mr. Smith?" I asked.

"No," answered he, "but I am told that it is a very difficult ascent.

A few mountaineers have climbed it; but they report that it has no

outlook commanding the crater of the Great Eyrie."

"That is so," said the guide, Harry Horn. "I have tried it myself."

"Perhaps," suggested I, "the weather was unfavorable."

"On the contrary, Mr. Strock, it was unusually clear. But the wall of

the Great Eyrie on that side rose so high, it completely hid the

interior."

"Forward," cried Mr. Smith. "I shall not be sorry to set foot where

no person has ever stepped, or even looked, before."

Certainly on this day the Great Eyrie looked tranquil enough. As we

gazed upon it, there rose from its heights neither smoke nor flame.

Toward five o'clock our expedition halted at the Wildon farm, where

the tenants warmly welcomed their landlord. The farmer assured us

that nothing notable had happened about the Great Eyrie for some

time. We supped at a common table with all the people of the farm;

and our sleep that night was sound and wholly untroubled by

premonitions of the future.

On the morrow, before break of day, we set out for the ascent of the

mountain. The height of the Great Eyrie scarce exceeds five thousand

feet. A modest altitude, often surpassed in this section of the

Alleghanies. As we were already more than three thousand feet above

sea level, the fatigue of the ascent could not be great. A few hours

should suffice to bring us to the crest of the crater. Of course,

difficulties might present themselves, precipices to scale, clefts

and breaks in the ridge might necessitate painful and even dangerous

detours. This was the unknown, the spur to our attempt. As I said,

our guides knew no more than we upon this point. What made me

anxious, was, of course, the common report that the Great Eyrie was

wholly inaccessible. But this remained unproven. And then there was

the new chance that a fallen block had left a breach in the rocky

wall.

"At last," said Mr. Smith to me, after lighting the first pipe of the

twenty or more which he smoked each day, "we are well started. As to

whether the ascent will take more or less time--"

"In any case, Mr. Smith," interrupted I, "you and I are fully

resolved to pursue our quest to the end."

"Fully resolved, Mr. Strock."

"My chief has charged me to snatch the secret from this demon of the

Great Eyrie."

"We will snatch it from him, willing or unwilling," vowed Mr. Smith,

calling Heaven to witness. "Even if we have to search the very bowels

of the mountain."

"As it may happen, then," said I, "that our excursion will be

prolonged beyond today, it will be well to look to our provisions."

"Be easy, Mr. Strock; our guides have food for two days in their

knapsacks, besides what we carry ourselves. Moreover, though I left

my brave Nisko at the farm, I have my gun. Game will be plentiful in

the woods and gorges of the lower part of the mountain, and perhaps

at the top we shall find a fire to cook it, already lighted."

"Already lighted, Mr. Smith?"

"And why not, Mr. Strock? These flames! These superb flames, which

have so terrified our country folk! Is their fire absolutely cold, is

no spark to be found beneath their ashes? And then, if this is truly

a crater, is the volcano so wholly extinct that we cannot find there

a single ember? Bah! This would be but a poor volcano if it hasn't

enough fire even to cook an egg or roast a potato. Come, I repeat, we

shall see! We shall see!"

At that point of the investigation I had, I confess, no opinion

formed. I had my orders to examine the Great Eyrie. If it proved

harmless, I would announce it, and people would be reassured. But at

heart, I must admit, I had the very natural desire of a man possessed

by the demon of curiosity. I should be glad, both for my own sake,

and for the renown which would attach to my mission if the Great

Eyrie proved the center of the most remarkable phenomena--of which I

would discover the cause.

Our ascent began in this order. The two guides went in front to seek

out the most practicable paths. Elias Smith and I followed more

leisurely. We mounted by a narrow and not very steep gorge amid rocks

and trees. A tiny stream trickled downward under our feet. During the

rainy season or after a heavy shower, the water doubtless bounded

from rock to rock in tumultuous cascades. But it evidently was fed

only by the rain, for now we could scarcely trace its course. It

could not be the outlet of any lake within the Great Eyrie.

After an hour of climbing, the slope became so steep that we had to

turn, now to the right, now to the left; and our progress was much

delayed. Soon the gorge became wholly impracticable; its cliff-like

sides offered no sufficient foothold. We had to cling by branches, to

crawl upon our knees. At this rate the top would not be reached

before sundown.

"Faith!" cried Mr. Smith, stopping for breath, "I realize why the

climbers of the Great Eyrie have been few, so few, that it has never

been ascended within my knowledge."

"The fact is," I responded, "that it would be much toil for very

little profit. And if we had not special reasons to persist in our

attempt."

"You never said a truer word," declared Harry Horn. "My comrade and I

have scaled the Black Dome several times, but we never met such

obstacles as these."

"The difficulties seem almost impassable," added James Bruck.

The question now was to determine to which side we should turn for a

new route; to right, as to left, arose impenetrable masses of trees

and bushes. In truth even the scaling of cliffs would have been more

easy. Perhaps if we could get above this wooded slope we could

advance with surer foot. Now, we could only go ahead blindly, and

trust to the instincts of our two guides. James Bruck was especially

useful. I believe that that gallant lad would have equaled a monkey

in lightness and a wild goat in agility. Unfortunately, neither Elias

Smith nor I was able to climb where he could.

However, when it is a matter of real need with me, I trust I shall

never be backward, being resolute by nature and well-trained in bodily

exercise. Where James Bruck went, I was determined to go, also;

though it might cost me some uncomfortable falls. But it was not the

same with the first magistrate of Morganton, less young, less

vigorous, larger, stouter, and less persistent than we others.

Plainly he made every effort, not to retard our progress, but he

panted like a seal, and soon I insisted on his stopping to rest.

In short, it was evident that the ascent of the Great Eyrie would

require far more time than we had estimated. We had expected to reach

the foot of the rocky wall before eleven o'clock, but we now saw that

mid-day would still find us several hundred feet below it.

Toward ten o'clock, after repeated attempts to discover some more

practicable route, after numberless turnings and returnings, one of

the guides gave the signal to halt. We found ourselves at last on the

upper border of the heavy wood. The trees, more thinly spaced,

permitted us a glimpse upward to the base of the rocky wall which

constituted the true Great Eyrie.

"Whew!" exclaimed Mr. Smith, leaning against a mighty pine tree, "a

little respite, a little repose, and even a little repast would not

go badly."

"We will rest an hour," said I.

"Yes; after working our lungs and our legs, we will make our stomachs

work."

We were all agreed on this point. A rest would certainty freshen us.

Our only cause for inquietude was now the appearance of the

precipitous slope above us. We looked up toward one of those bare

strips called in that region, slides. Amid this loose earth, these

yielding stones, and these abrupt rocks there was no roadway.

Harry Horn said to his comrade, "It will not be easy."

"Perhaps impossible," responded Bruck.

Their comments caused me secret uneasiness. If I returned without

even having scaled the mountain, my mission would be a complete

failure, without speaking of the torture to my curiosity. And when I

stood again before Mr. Ward, shamed and confused, I should cut but a

sorry figure.

We opened our knapsacks and lunched moderately on bread and cold

meat. Our repast finished, in less than half an hour, Mr. Smith

sprang up eager to push forward once more. James Bruck took the lead;

and we had only to follow him as best we could.

We advanced slowly. Our guides did not attempt to conceal their doubt

and hesitation. Soon Horn left us and went far ahead to spy out which

road promised most chance of success.

Twenty minutes later he returned and led us onward toward the

northwest. It was on this side that the Black Dome rose at a distance

of three or four miles. Our path was still difficult and painful,

amid the sliding stones, held in place only occasionally by wiry

bushes. At length after a weary struggle, we gained some two

hundred feet further upward and found ourselves facing a great gash,

which, broke the earth at this spot. Here and there were scattered

roots recently uptorn, branches broken off, huge stones reduced to

powder, as if an avalanche had rushed down this flank of the mountain.

"That must be the path taken by the huge block which broke away

from the Great Eyrie," commented James Bruck.

"No doubt," answered Mr. Smith, "and I think we had better follow the

road that it has made for us."

It was indeed this gash that Harry Horn had selected for our ascent.

Our feet found lodgment in the firmer earth which had resisted the

passage of the monster rock. Our task thus became much easier, and

our progress was in a straight line upward, so that toward half past

eleven we reached the upper border of the "slide."

Before us, less than a hundred feet away, but towering a hundred feet

straight upwards in the air rose the rocky wall which formed the

final crest, the last defence of the Great Eyrie.

From this side, the summit of the wall showed capriciously irregular,

rising in rude towers and jagged needles. At one point the outline

appeared to be an enormous eagle silhouetted against the sky, just

ready to take flight. Upon this side, at least, the precipice was

insurmountable.

"Rest a minute," said Mr. Smith, "and we will see if it is possible

to make our way around the base of this cliff."

"At any rate," said Harry Horn, "the great block must have fallen

from this part of the cliff; and it has left no breach for entering."

They were both right; we must seek entrance elsewhere. After a rest

of ten minutes, we clambered up close to the foot of the wall, and

began to make a circuit of its base.

Assuredly the Great Eyrie now took on to my eyes an aspect absolutely

fantastic. Its heights seemed peopled by dragons and huge monsters.

If chimeras, griffins, and all the creations of mythology had

appeared to guard it, I should have been scarcely surprised.

With great difficulty and not without danger we continued our tour of

this circumvallation, where it seemed that nature had worked as man

does, with careful regularity. Nowhere was there any break in the

fortification; nowhere a fault in the strata by which one might

clamber up. Always this mighty wall, a hundred feet in height!

After an hour and a half of this laborious circuit, we regained our

starting-place. I could not conceal my disappointment, and Mr. Smith

was not less chagrined than I.

"A thousand devils!" cried he, "we know no better than before what is

inside this confounded Great Eyrie, nor even if it is a crater."

"Volcano, or not," said I, "there are no suspicious noises now;

neither smoke nor flame rises above it; nothing whatever threatens an

eruption."

This was true. A profound silence reigned around us; and a perfectly

clear sky shone overhead. We tasted the perfect calm of great

altitudes.

It was worth noting that the circumference of the huge wall was about

twelve or fifteen hundred feet. As to the space enclosed within, we

could scarce reckon that without knowing the thickness of the

encompassing wall. The surroundings were absolutely deserted.

Probably not a living creature ever mounted to this height, except

the few birds of prey which soared high above us.

Our watches showed three o'clock, and Mr. Smith cried in disgust,

"What is the use of stopping here all day! We shall learn nothing

more. We must make a start, Mr. Strock, if we want to get back to

Pleasant Garden to-night."

I made no answer, and did not move from where I was seated; so he

called again, "Come, Mr. Strock; you don't answer."

In truth, it cut me deeply to abandon our effort, to descend the

slope without having achieved my mission. I felt an imperious need of

persisting; my curiosity had redoubled. But what could I do? Could I

tear open this unyielding earth? Overleap the mighty cliff? Throwing

one last defiant glare at the Great Eyrie, I followed my companions.

The return was effected without great difficulty. We had only to

slide down where we had so laboriously scrambled up. Before five

o'clock we descended the last slopes of the mountain, and the farmer

of Wildon welcomed us to a much needed meal.

"Then you didn't get inside?" said he.

"No," responded Mr. Smith, "and I believe that the inside exists only

in the imagination of our country folk."

At half past eight our carriage drew up before the house of the Mayor

of Pleasant Garden, where we passed the night. While I strove vainly

to sleep, I asked myself if I should not stop there in the village

and organize a new ascent. But what better chance had it of

succeeding than the first? The wisest course was, doubtless, to

return to Washington and consult Mr. Ward.

So, the next day, having rewarded our two guides, I took leave of Mr.

Smith at Morganton, and that same evening left by train for

Washington.

Chapter 4 - A MEETING OF THE AUTOMOBILE CLUB

Was the mystery of the Great Eyrie to be solved some day by chances

beyond our imagining? That was known only to the future. And was the

solution a matter of the first importance? That was beyond doubt,

since the safety of the people of western Carolina perhaps depended

upon it.

Yet a fortnight after my return to Washington, public attention was

wholly distracted from this problem by another very different in

nature, but equally astonishing.

Toward the middle of that month of May the newspapers of Pennsylvania

informed their readers of some strange occurrences in different parts

of the state. On the roads which radiated from Philadelphia, the

chief city, there circulated an extraordinary vehicle, of which no

one could describe the form, or the nature, or even the size, so

rapidly did it rush past. It was an automobile; all were agreed on

that. But as to what motor drove it, only imagination could say; and

when the popular imagination is aroused, what limit is there to its

hypotheses?

At that period the most improved automobiles, whether driven by

steam, gasoline, or electricity, could not accomplish much more than

sixty miles an hour, a speed that the railroads, with their most

rapid expresses, scarce exceed on the best lines of America and

Europe. Now, this new automobile which was astonishing the world,

traveled at more than double this speed.

It is needless to add that such a rate constituted an extreme danger

on the highroads, as much so for vehicles, as for pedestrians. This

rushing mass, coming like a thunder-bolt, preceded by a formidable

rumbling, caused a whirlwind, which tore the branches from the trees

along the road, terrified the animals browsing in adjoining fields,

and scattered and killed the birds, which could not resist the

suction of the tremendous air currents engendered by its passage.

And, a bizarre detail to which the newspapers drew particular

attention, the surface of the roads was scarcely even scratched by

the wheels of the apparition, which left behind it no such ruts as

are usually made by heavy vehicles. At most there was a light touch,

a mere brushing of the dust. It was only the tremendous speed which

raised behind the vehicle such whirlwinds of dust.

"It is probable," commented the New Fork Herald, "that the extreme

rapidity of motion destroys the weight."

Naturally there were protests from all sides. It was impossible to

permit the mad speed of this apparition which threatened to overthrow

and destroy everything in its passage, equipages and people. But how

could it be stopped? No one knew to whom the vehicle belonged, nor

whence it came, nor whither it went. It was seen but for an instant

as it darted forward like a bullet in its dizzy flight. How could one

seize a cannon-ball in the air, as it leaped from the mouth of the

gun?

I repeat, there was no evidence as to the character of the propelling

engine. It left behind it no smoke, no steam, no odor of gasoline, or

any other oil. It seemed probable, therefore, that the vehicle ran by

electricity, and that its accumulators were of an unknown model,

using some unknown fluid.

The public imagination, highly excited, readily accepted every sort

of rumor about this mysterious automobile. It was said to be a

supernatural car. It was driven by a specter, by one of the

chauffeurs of hell, a goblin from another world, a monster escaped

from some mythological menagerie, in short, the devil in person, who

could defy all human intervention, having at his command invisible

and infinite satanic powers.

But even Satan himself had no right to run at such speed over the

roads of the United States without a special permit, without a number

on his car, and without a regular license. And it was certain that

not a single municipality had given him permission to go two hundred

miles an hour. Public security demanded that some means be found to

unmask the secret of this terrible chauffeur.

Moreover, it was not only Pennsylvania that served as the theater of

his sportive eccentricities. The police reported his appearance in

other states; in Kentucky near Frankfort; in Ohio near Columbus; in

Tennessee near Nashville; in Missouri near Jefferson; and finally in

Illinois in the neighborhood of Chicago.

The alarm having been given, it became the duty of the authorities to

take steps against this public danger. To arrest or even to halt an

apparition moving at such speed was scarcely practicable. A better

way would be to erect across the roads solid gateways with which the

flying machine must come in contact sooner or later, and be smashed

into a thousand pieces.

"Nonsense!" declared the incredulous. "This madman would know well

how to circle around such obstructions."

"And if necessary," added others, "the machine would leap over the

barriers."

"And if he is indeed the devil, he has, as a former angel, presumably

preserved his wings, and so he will take to flight."

But this last was but the suggestion of foolish old gossips who did

not stop to study the matter. For if the King of Hades possessed a

pair of wings, why did he obstinately persist in running around on

the earth at the risk of crushing his own subjects, when he might

more easily have hurled himself through space as free as a bird.

Such was the situation when, in the last week of May, a fresh event

occurred, which seemed to show that the United States was indeed

helpless in the hands of some unapproachable monster. And after the

New World, would not the Old in its turn, be desecrated by the mad

career of this remarkable automobilist?

The following occurrence was reported in all the newspapers of the

Union, and with what comments and outcries it is easy to imagine.

A race was to be held by the automobile Club of Wisconsin, over the

roads of that state of which Madison is the capital. The route laid

out formed an excellent track, about two hundred miles in length,

starting from Prairie-du-chien on the western frontier, passing by

Madison and ending a little above Milwaukee on the borders of Lake

Michigan. Except for the Japanese road between Nikko and Namode,

bordered by giant cypresses, there is no better track in the world

than this of Wisconsin. It runs straight and level as an arrow for

sometimes fifty miles at a stretch. Many and noted were the machines

entered for this great race. Every kind of motor vehicle was

permitted to compete, even motorcycles, as well as automobiles. The

machines were of all makes and nationalities. The sum of the

different prizes reached fifty thousand dollars, so that the race was

sure to be desperately contested. New records were expected to be

made.

Calculating on the maximum speed hitherto attained, of perhaps eighty

miles an hour, this international contest covering two hundred miles

would last about three hours. And, to avoid all danger, the state

authorities of Wisconsin had forbidden all other traffic between

Prairie-du-chien and Milwaukee during three hours on the morning of

the thirtieth of May. Thus, if there were any accidents, those who

suffered would be themselves to blame.

There was an enormous crowd; and it was not composed only of the

people of Wisconsin. Many thousands gathered from the neighboring

states of Illinois, Michigan, Iowa, Indiana, and even from New York.

Among the sportsmen assembled were many foreigners, English, French,

Germans and Austrians, each nationality, of course, supporting the

chauffeurs of its land. Moreover, as this was the United States, the

country of the greatest gamblers of the world, bets were made of

every sort and of enormous amounts.

The start was to be made at eight o'clock in the morning; and to

avoid crowding and the accidents which must result from it, the

automobiles were to follow each other at two minute intervals, along

the roads whose borders were black with spectators.

The first ten racers, numbered by lot, were dispatched between eight

o'clock and twenty minutes past. Unless there was some disastrous

accident, some of these machines would surely arrive at the goal by

eleven o'clock. The others followed in order.

An hour and a half had passed. There remained but a single contestant

at Prairie-du-chien. Word was sent back and forth by telephone every

five minutes as to the order of the racers. Midway between Madison

and Milwaukee, the lead was held by a machine of Renault brothers,

four cylindered, of twenty horsepower, and with Michelin tires. It

was closely followed by a Harvard-Watson car and by a Dion-Bouton.

Some accidents had already occurred, other machines were hopelessly

behind. Not more than a dozen would contest the finish. Several

chauffeurs had been injured, but not seriously. And even had they

been killed, the death of men is but a detail, not considered of

great importance in that astonishing country of America.

Naturally the excitement became more intense as one approached the

finishing line near Milwaukee. There were assembled the most curious,

the most interested; and there the passions of the moment were

unchained. By ten o'clock it was evident, that the first prize,

twenty thousand dollars, lay between five machines, two American, two

French, and one English. Imagine, therefore, the fury with which bets

were being made under the influence of national pride. The regular

book makers could scarcely meet the demands of those who wished to

wager. Offers and amounts were hurled from lip to lip with feverish

rapidity. "One to three on the Harvard-Watson!"

"One to two on the Dion-Bouton!"

"Even money on the Renault!"

These cries rang along the line of spectators at each new

announcement from the telephones.

Suddenly at half-past nine by the town clock of Prairie-du-chien, two

miles beyond that town was heard a tremendous noise and rumbling

which proceeded from the midst of a flying cloud of dust accompanied

by shrieks like those of a naval siren.

Scarcely had the crowds time to draw to one side, to escape a

destruction which would have included hundreds of victims. The cloud

swept by like a hurricane. No one could distinguish what it was that

passed with such speed. There was no exaggeration in saying that its

rate was at least one hundred and fifty miles an hour.

The apparition passed and disappeared in an instant, leaving behind

it a long train of white dust, as an express locomotive leaves behind

a train of smoke. Evidently it was an automobile with a most

extraordinary motor. If it maintained this arrow-like speed, it would

reach the contestants in the fore-front of the race; it would pass

them with this speed double their own; it would arrive first at the

goal.

And then from all parts arose an uproar, as soon as the spectators

had nothing more to fear.

"It is that infernal machine."

"Yes; the one the police cannot stop."

"But it has not been heard of for a fortnight."

"It was supposed to be done for, destroyed, gone forever."

"It is a devil's car, driven by hellfire, and with Satan driving!"

In truth, if he were not the devil, who could this mysterious

chauffeur be, driving with this unbelievable velocity, his no less

mysterious machine? At least it was beyond doubt that this was the

same machine which had already attracted so much attention. If the

police believed that they had frightened it away, that it was never

to be, heard of more, well, the police were mistaken which happens in

America as elsewhere.

The first stunned moment of surprise having passed,

many people rushed to the telephones to warn those further

along the route of the danger which menaced, not only the

people, but also the automobiles scattered along the road.

When this terrible madman arrived like an avalanche they would be

smashed to pieces, ground into powder, annihilated!

And from the collision might not the destroyer himself emerge safe

and sound? He must be so adroit, this chauffeur of chauffeurs, he

must handle his machine with such perfection of eye and hand, that he

knew, no doubt, how to escape from every situation. Fortunately the

Wisconsin authorities had taken such precautions that the road would

be clear except for contesting automobiles. But what right had this

machine among them!

And what said the racers themselves, who, warned by telephone, had to

sheer aside from the road in their struggle for the grand prize? By

their estimate, this amazing vehicle was going at least one hundred

and thirty miles an hour. Fast as was their speed, it shot by them at

such a rate that they could hardly make out even the shape of the

machine, a sort of lengthened spindle, probably not over thirty feet

long. Its wheels spun with such velocity that they could scarce be

seen. For the rest, the machine left behind it neither smoke nor

scent.

As for the driver, hidden in the interior of his machine, he had been

quite invisible. He remained as unknown as when he had first appeared

on the various roads throughout the country.

Milwaukee was promptly warned of the coming of this interloper. Fancy

the excitement the news caused! The immediate purpose agreed upon was

to stop this projectile, to erect across its route an obstacle

against which it would smash into a thousand pieces. But was there

time? Would not the machine appear at any moment? And what need was

there, since the track ended on the edge of Lake Michigan, and so the

vehicle would be forced to stop there anyway, unless its supernatural

driver could ride the water as well as the land.

Here, also, as all along the route, the most extravagant suggestions

were offered. Even those who would not admit that the mysterious

chauffeur must be Satan in person allowed that he might be some

monster escaped from the fantastic visions of the Apocalypse.

And now there were no longer minutes to wait. Any second might bring

the expected apparition.

It was not yet eleven o'clock when a rumbling was heard far down the

track, and the dust rose in violent whirlwinds. Harsh whistlings

shrieked through the air warning all to give passage to the monster.

It did not slacken speed at the finish. Lake Michigan was not half a

mile beyond, and the machine must certainly be hurled into the water!

Could it be that the mechanician was no longer master of his

mechanism?

There could be little doubt of it. Like a shooting star, the vehicle

flashed through Milwaukee. When it had passed the city, would it

plunge itself to destruction in the waters of Lake Michigan?

At any rate when it disappeared at a slight bend in the road no trace

was to be found of its passage.

Chapter 5 - ALONG THE SHORES OF NEW ENGLAND

At the time when the newspapers were filled with these reports, I was

again in Washington. On my return I had presented myself at my

chief's office, but had been unable to see him. Family affairs had

suddenly called him away, to be absent some weeks. Mr. Ward, however,

undoubtedly knew of the failure of my mission. The newspapers,

especially those of North Carolina, had given full details of our

ascent of the Great Eyrie.

Naturally, I was much annoyed by this delay which further fretted my

restless curiosity. I could turn to no other plans for the future.

Could I give up the hope of learning the secret of the Great Eyrie?

No! I would return to the attack a dozen times if necessary, and

despite every failure.

Surely, the winning of access within those walls was not a task

beyond human power. A scaffolding might be raised to the summit of

the cliff; or a tunnel might be pierced through its depth. Our

engineers met problems more difficult every day. But in this case it

was necessary to consider the expense, which might easily grow out of

proportion to the advantages to be gained. A tunnel would cost many

thousand dollars, and what good would it accomplish beyond satisfying

the public curiosity and my own?

My personal resources were wholly insufficient for the achievement.

Mr. Ward, who held the government's funds, was away. I even thought

of trying to interest some millionaire. Oh, if I could but have

promised one of them some gold or silver mines within the mountain!

But such an hypothesis was not admissible. The chain of the

Appalachians is not situated in a gold bearing region like that of

the Pacific mountains, the Transvaal, or Australia.

It was not until the fifteenth of June that Mr. Ward returned to

duty. Despite my lack of success he received me warmly. "Here is our

poor Strock!" cried he, at my entrance. "Our poor Strock, who has

failed!"

"No more, Mr. Ward, than if you had charged me to investigate the

surface of the moon," answered I. "We found ourselves face to face

with purely natural obstacles insurmountable with the forces then at

our command."

"I do not doubt that, Strock, I do not doubt that in the least.

Nevertheless, the fact remains that you have discovered nothing of

what is going on within the Great Eyrie."

"Nothing, Mr. Ward."

"You saw no sign of fire?"

"None."

"And you heard no suspicious noises whatever?"

"None."

"Then it is still uncertain if there is really a volcano there?"

"Still uncertain, Mr. Ward. But if it is there, we have good reason

to believe that it has sunk into a profound sleep."

"Still," returned Mr. Ward, "there is nothing to show that it will

not wake up again any day, Strock. It is not enough that a volcano

should sleep, it must be absolutely extinguished unless indeed all

these threatening rumors have been born solely in the Carolinian

imagination."

"That is not possible, sir," I said. "Both Mr. Smith, the mayor of

Morganton and his friend the mayor of Pleasant Garden, are reliable

men. And they speak from their own knowledge in this matter. Flames

have certainly risen above the Great Eyrie. Strange noises have

issued from it. There can be no doubt whatever of the reality of

these phenomena."

"Granted," declared Mr. Ward. "I admit that the evidence is

unassailable. So the deduction to be drawn is that the Great Eyrie

has not yet given up its secret."

"If we are determined to know it, Mr. Ward, the solution is only a

solution of expense. Pickaxes and dynamite would soon conquer those

walls."

"No doubt," responded the chief, "but such an undertaking hardly

seems justified, since the mountain is now quiet. We will wait awhile

and perhaps nature herself will disclose her mystery."

"Mr. Ward, believe me that I regret deeply that I have been unable to

solve the problem you entrusted to me," I said.

"Nonsense! Do not upset yourself, Strock. Take your defeat

philosophically. We cannot always be successful, even in the police.

How many criminals escape us! I believe we should never capture one

of them, if they were a little more intelligent and less imprudent,

and if they did not compromise themselves so stupidly. Nothing, it

seems to me, would be easier than to plan a crime, a theft or an

assassination, and to execute it without arousing any suspicions, or

leaving any traces to be followed. You understand, Strock, I do not

want to give our criminals lessons; I much prefer to have them remain

as they are. Nevertheless there are many whom the police will never

be able to track down."

On this matter I shared absolutely the opinion of my chief. It is

among rascals that one finds the most fools. For this very reason I

had been much surprised that none of the authorities had been able to

throw any light upon the recent performances of the "demon

automobile." And when Mr. Ward brought up this subject, I did not

conceal from him my astonishment.

He pointed out that the vehicle was practically unpursuable; that in

its earlier appearances, it had apparently vanished from all roads

even before a telephone message could be sent ahead. Active and

numerous police agents had been spread throughout the country, but no

one of them had encountered the delinquent. He did not move

continuously from place to place, even at his amazing speed, but

seemed to appear only for a moment and then to vanish into thin air.

True, he had at length remained visible along the entire route from

Prairie-du-Chien to Milwaukee, and he had covered in less than an

hour and a half this track of two hundred miles.

But since then, there had been no news whatever of the machine.

Arrived at the end of the route, driven onward by its own impetus,

unable to stop, had it indeed been engulfed within the waters of Lake

Michigan? Must we conclude that the machine and its driver had both

perished, that there was no longer any danger to be feared from

either? The great majority of the public refused to accept this

conclusion. They fully expected the machine to reappear.

Mr. Ward frankly admitted that the whole matter seemed to him most

extraordinary; and I shared his view. Assuredly if this infernal

chauffeur did not return, his apparition would have to be placed

among those superhuman mysteries which it is not given to man to

understand.

We had fully discussed this affair, the chief and I; and I thought

that our interview was at an end, when, after pacing the room for a

few moments, he said abruptly, "Yes, what happened there at Milwaukee

was very strange. But here is something no less so!"

With this he handed me a report which he had received from Boston, on

a subject of which the evening papers had just begun to apprise their

readers. While I read it, Mr. Ward was summoned from the room. I

seated myself by the window and studied with extreme attention the

matter of the report.

For some days the waters along the coast of Maine, Connecticut, and

Massachusetts had been the scene of an appearance which no one could

exactly describe. A moving body would appear amid the waters, some

two or three miles off shore, and go through rapid evolutions. It

would flash for a while back and forth among the waves and then dart

out of sight.

The body moved with such lightning speed that the best telescopes

could hardly follow it. Its length did not seem to exceed thirty

feet. Its cigar-shaped form and greenish color, made it difficult to

distinguish against the background of the ocean. It had been most

frequently observed along the coast between Cape Cod and Nova Scotia.

From Providence, from Boston, from Portsmouth, and from Portland

motor boats and steam launches had repeatedly attempted to approach

this moving body and even to give it chase. They could not get

anywhere near it. Pursuit seemed useless. It darted like an arrow

beyond the range of view.

Naturally, widely differing opinions were held as to the nature of

this object. But no hypothesis rested on any secure basis. Seamen

were as much at a loss as others. At first sailors thought it must be

some great fish, like a whale. But it is well known that all these

animals come to the surface with a certain regularity to breathe, and

spout up columns of mingled air and water. Now, this strange animal,

if it was an animal, had never "blown" as the whalers say; nor, had

it ever made any noises of breathing. Yet if it were not one of these

huge marine mammals, how was this unknown monster to be classed? Did

it belong among the legendary dwellers in the deep, the krakens, the

octopuses, the leviathans, the famous sea-serpents?

At any rate, since this monster, whatever it was, had appeared along

the New England shores, the little fishing-smacks and pleasure boats

dared not venture forth. Wherever it appeared the boats fled to the

nearest harbor, as was but prudent. If the animal was of a ferocious

character, none cared to await its attack.

As to the large ships and coast steamers, they had nothing to fear

from any monster, whale or otherwise. Several of them had seen this

creature at a distance of some miles. But when they attempted to

approach, it fled rapidly away. One day, even, a fast United States

gun boat went out from Boston, if not to pursue the monster, at least

to send after it a few cannon shot. Almost instantly the animal

disappeared, and the attempt was vain. As yet, however, the monster

had shown no intention of attacking either boats or people.

At this moment Mr. Ward returned and I interrupted my reading to say,

"There seems as yet no reason to complain of this sea-serpent. It

flees before big ships. It does not pursue little ones. Feeling and

intelligence are not very strong in fishes."

"Yet their emotions exist, Strock, and if strongly aroused--"

"But, Mr. Ward, the beast seems not at all dangerous. One of two

things will happen. Either it will presently quit these coasts, or

finally it will be captured and we shall be able to study it at our

leisure here in the museum of Washington."

"And if it is not a marine animal?" asked Mr. Ward.

"What else can it be?" I protested in surprise.

"Finish your reading," said Mr. Ward.

I did so; and found that in the second part of the report, my chief

had underlined some passages in red pencil.

For some time no one had doubted that this was an animal; and that,

if it were vigorously pursued, it would at last be driven from our

shores. But a change of opinion had come about. People began to ask

if, instead of a fish, this were not some new and remarkable kind of

boat.

Certainly in that case its engine must be one of amazing power.

Perhaps the inventor before selling the secret of his invention,

sought to attract public attention and to astound the maritime world.

Such surety in the movements of his boat, grace in its every

evolution, such ease in defying pursuit by its arrow-like speed,

surely, these were enough to arouse world-wide curiosity!

At that time great progress had been made in the manufacture of

marine engines. Huge transatlantic steamers completed the ocean

passage in five days. And the engineers had not yet spoken their last

word. Neither were the navies of the world behind. The cruisers, the

torpedo boats, the torpedo-destroyers, could match the swiftest

steamers of the Atlantic and Pacific, or of the Indian trade.

If, however, this were a boat of some new design, there had as yet

been no opportunity to observe its form. As to the engines which

drove it, they must be of a power far beyond the fastest known. By

what force they worked, was equally a problem. Since the boat had no

sails, it was not driven by the wind; and since it had no

smoke-stack, it was not driven by steam.

At this point in the report, I again paused in my reading and

considered the comment I wished to make.

"What are you puzzling over, Strock?" demanded my chief.

"It is this, Mr. Ward; the motive power of this so-called boat must

be as tremendous and as unknown as that of the remarkable automobile

which has so amazed us all."

"So that is your idea, is it, Strock?"

"Yes, Mr. Ward."

There was but one conclusion to be drawn. If the mysterious chauffeur

had disappeared, if he had perished with his machine in Lake

Michigan, it was equally important now to win the secret of this no

less mysterious navigator. And it must be won before he in his turn

plunged into the abyss of the ocean. Was it not the interest of the

inventor to disclose his invention? Would not the American government

or any other give him any price he chose to ask?

Yet unfortunately, since the inventor of the terrestrial apparition

had persisted in preserving his incognito, was it not to be feared

that the inventor of the marine apparition would equally preserve

his? Even if the first machine still existed, it was no longer heard

from; and would not the second, in the same way, after having

disclosed its powers, disappear in its turn, without a single trace?

What gave weight to this probability was that since the arrival of

this report at Washington twenty-four hours before, the presence of

the extraordinary boat hadn't been announced from anywhere along the

shore. Neither had it been seen on any other coast. Though, of

course, the assertion that it would not reappear at all would have

been hazardous, to say the least.

I noted another interesting and possibly important point. It was a

singular coincidence which indeed Mr. Ward suggested to me, at the

same moment that I was considering it. This was that only after the

disappearance of the wonderful automobile had the no less wonderful

boat come into view. Moreover, their engines both possessed a most

dangerous power of locomotion. If both should go rushing at the same

time over the face of the world, the same danger would threaten

mankind everywhere, in boats, in vehicles, and on foot. Therefore it

was absolutely necessary that the police should in some manner

interfere to protect the public ways of travel.

That is what Mr. Ward pointed out to me; and our duty was obvious.

But how could we accomplish this task? We discussed the matter for

some time; and I was just about to leave when Mr. Ward made one last

suggestion.

"Have you not observed, Strock," said he, "that there is a sort of

fantastic resemblance between the general appearance of this boat and

this automobile?"

"There is something of the sort, Mr. Ward."

"Well, is it not possible that the two are one?"

Chapter 6 - THE FIRST LETTER

After leaving Mr. Ward I returned to my home in Long Street. There I

had plenty of time to consider this strange case uninterrupted by

either wife or children. My household consisted solely of an ancient

servant, who having been formerly in the service of my mother, had

now continued for fifteen years in mine.

Two months before I had obtained a leave of absence. It had still two

weeks to run, unless indeed some unforeseen circumstance interrupted

it, some mission which could not be delayed. This leave, as I have

shown, had already been interrupted for four days by my exploration

of the Great Eyrie.

And now was it not my duty to abandon my vacation, and endeavor to

throw light upon the remarkable events of which the road to Milwaukee

and the shore of New England had been in turn the scene? I would have

given much to solve the twin mysteries, but how was it possible to

follow the track of this automobile or this boat?

Seated in my easy chair after breakfast, with my pipe lighted, I

opened my newspaper. To what should I turn? Politics interested me

but little, with its eternal strife between the Republicans and the

Democrats. Neither did I care for the news of society, nor for the

sporting page. You will not be surprised, then, that my first idea

was to see if there was any news from North Carolina about the Great

Eyrie. There was little hope of this, however, for Mr. Smith had

promised to telegraph me at once if anything occurred. I felt quite

sure that the mayor of Morganton was as eager for information and as

watchful as could have been myself. The paper told me nothing new. It

dropped idly from my hand; and I remained deep in thought.

What most frequently recurred to me was the suggestion of Mr. Ward

that perhaps the automobile and the boat which had attracted our

attention were in reality one and the same. Very probably, at least,

the two machines had been built by the same hand. And beyond doubt,

these were similar engines, which generated this remarkable speed,

more than doubling the previous records of earth and sea.

"The same inventor!" repeated I.

Evidently this hypothesis had strong grounds. The fact that the two

machines had not yet appeared at the same time added weight to the

idea. I murmured to myself, "After the mystery of Great Eyrie, comes

that of Milwaukee and Boston. Will this new problem be as difficult

to solve as was the other?"

I noted idly that this new affair had a general resemblance to the

other, since both menaced the security of the general public. To be

sure, only the inhabitants of the Blueridge region had been in danger

from an eruption or possible earthquake at Great Eyrie. While now, on

every road of the United States, or along every league of its coasts

and harbors, every inhabitant was in danger from this vehicle or this

boat, with its sudden appearance and insane speed.

I found that, as was to be expected, the newspapers not only

suggested, but enlarged upon the dangers of the case. Timid people

everywhere were much alarmed. My old servant, naturally credulous and

superstitious, was particularly upset. That same day after dinner, as

she was clearing away the things, she stopped before me, a water

bottle in one hand, the serviette in the other, and asked anxiously,

"Is there no news, sir?"

"None," I answered, knowing well to what she referred.

"The automobile has not come back?"

"No."

"Nor the boat?"

"Nor the boat There is no news even-in the best informed papers."

"But--your secret police information?"

"We are no wiser."

"Then, sir, if you please, of what use are the police?"

It is a question which has phased me more than once.

"Now you see what will happen," continued the old housekeeper,

complainingly, "Some fine morning, he will come without warning, this

terrible chauffeur, and rush down our street here, and kill us all!"

"Good! When that happens, there will be some chance of catching him."

"He will never be arrested, sir."

"Why not?"

"Because he is the devil himself, and you can't arrest the devil!"

Decidedly, thought I, the devil has many uses; and if he did not

exist we would have to invent him, to give people some way of

explaining the inexplicable. It was he who lit the flames of the

Great Eyrie. It was he who smashed the record in the Wisconsin race.

It is he who is scurrying along the shores of Connecticut and

Massachusetts. But putting to one side this evil spirit who is so

necessary, for the convenience of the ignorant, there was no doubt

that we were facing a most bewildering problem. Had both of these

machines disappeared forever? They had passed like a meteor, like a

star shooting through space; and in a hundred years the adventure

would become a legend, much to the taste of the gossips of the next

century.

For several days the newspapers of America and even those of Europe

continued to discuss these events. Editorials crowded upon

editorials. Rumors were added to rumors. Story tellers of every kind

crowded to the front. The public of two continents was interested. In

some parts of Europe there was even jealousy that America should have

been chosen as the field of such an experience. If these marvelous

inventors were American, then their country, their army and navy,

would have a great advantage over others. The United States might

acquire an incontestable superiority.

Under the date of the tenth of June, a New York paper published a

carefully studied article on this phase of the subject. Comparing the

speed of the swiftest known vessels with the smallest minimum of

speed which could possibly be assigned to the new boat, the article

demonstrated that if the United States secured this secret, Europe

would be but three days away from her, while she would still be five

days from Europe.

If our own police had searched diligently to discover the mystery of

the Great Eyrie, the secret service of every country in the world was

now interested in these new problems.

Mr. Ward referred to the matter each time I saw him. Our chat would

begin by his rallying me about my ill-success in Carolina, and I

would respond by reminding him that success there was only a question

of expense.

"Never mind, my good Strock," said he, "there will come a chance for

our clever inspector to regain his laurels. Take now this affair of

the automobile and the boat. If you could clear that up in advance of

all the detectives of the world, what an honor it would be to our

department! What glory for you!"

"It certainly would, Mr. Ward. And if you put the matter in my

charge--"

"Who knows, Strock? Let us wait a while! Let us wait!"

Matters stood thus when, on the morning of June fifteenth, my old

servant brought me a letter from the letter-carrier, a registered

letter for which I had to sign. I looked at the address. I did not

know the handwriting. The postmark, dating from two days before, was

stamped at the post office of Morganton.

Morganton! Here at last was, no doubt, news from Mr. Elias Smith.

"Yes!" exclaimed I, speaking to my old servant, for lack of another,

"it must be from Mr. Smith at last. I know no one else in Morganton.

And if he writes he has news!"

"Morganton?" said the old woman, "isn't that the place where the

demons set fire to their mountain?"

"Exactly."

"Oh, sir! I hope you don't mean to go back there!"

"Because you will end by being burned up in that furnace of the Great

Eyrie. And I wouldn't want you buried that way, sir."

"Cheer up, and let us see if it is not better news than that."

The envelope was sealed with red sealing wax, and stamped with a sort

of coat of arms, surmounted with three stars. The paper was thick and

very strong. I broke the envelope and drew out a letter. It was a

single sheet, folded in four, and written on one side only. My first

glance was for the signature.

There was no signature! Nothing but three initials at the end of the

last line!

"The letter is not from the Mayor of Morganton," said I.

"Then from whom?" asked the old servant, doubly curious in her

quality as a woman and as an old gossip.

Looking again at the three initials of the signature, I said, "I know

no one for whom these letters would stand; neither at Morganton nor

elsewhere."

The hand-writing was bold. Both up strokes and down strokes very

sharp, about twenty lines in all. Here is the letter, of which I,

with good reason, retained an exact copy. It was dated, to my extreme

stupefaction, from that mysterious Great Eyrie:

Great Eyrie, Blueridge Mtns,

To Mr. Strock: North Carolina, June 13th.

Chief Inspector of Police,

34 Long St., Washington, D. C.

Sir,

You were charged with the mission of penetrating the Great Eyrie.

You came on April the twenty-eighth, accompanied by the

Mayor of Morganton and two guides.

You mounted to the foot of the wall, and you encircled it,

finding it too high and steep to climb.

You sought a breech and you found none. Know this: none

enter the Great Eyrie; or if one enters, he never returns.

"Do not try again, for the second attempt will not result

as did the first, but will have grave consequences for you.

"Heed this warning, or evil fortune will come to you.

"M. o. W."

Chapter 7 - A THIRD MACHINE

I confess that at first this letter dumfounded me. "Ohs!" and "Ahs!"

slipped from my open mouth. The old servant stared at me, not knowing

what to think.

"Oh, sir! is it bad news?"

I answered for I kept few secrets from this faithful soul by reading

her the letter from end to end. She listened with much anxiety.

"A joke, without doubt," said I, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well," returned my superstitious handmaid, "if it isn't from the

devil, it's from the devil's country, anyway."

Left alone, I again went over this unexpected letter. Reflection

inclined me yet more strongly to believe that it was the work of a

practical joker. My adventure was well known. The newspapers had

given it in full detail. Some satirist, such as exists even in

America, must have written this threatening letter to mock me.

To assume, on the other hand, that the Eyrie really served as the

refuge of a band of criminals, seemed absurd. If they feared that the

police would discover their retreat, surely they would not have been

so foolish as thus to force attention upon themselves. Their chief

security would lie in keeping their presence there unknown. They must

have realized that such a challenge from them would only arouse the

police to renewed activity. Dynamite or melinite would soon open an

entrance to their fortress. Moreover, how could these men have,

themselves, gained entrance into the Eyrie unless there existed a

passage which we had failed to discover? Assuredly the letter came

from a jester or a madman; and I need not worry over it, nor even

consider it.

Hence, though for an instant I had thought of showing this letter to

Mr. Ward, I decided not to do so. Surely he would attach no

importance to it. However, I did not destroy it, but locked it in my

desk for safe keeping. If more letters came of the same kind, and

with the same initials, I would attach as little weight to them as to

this.

Several days passed quietly. There was nothing to lead me to expect

that I should soon quit Washington; though in my line of duty one is

never certain of the morrow. At any moment I might be sent speeding

from Oregon to Florida, from Maine to Texas. And this unpleasant

thought haunted me frequently if my next mission were no more

successful than that to the Great Eyrie, I might as well give up and

hand in my resignation from the force. Of the mysterious chauffeur or

chauffeurs, nothing more was heard. I knew that our own government

agents, as well as foreign ones, were keeping keen watch over all the

roads and rivers, all the lakes and the coasts of America. Of course,

the size of the country made any close supervision impossible; but

these twin inventors had not before chosen secluded and unfrequented

spots in which to appear. The main highway of Wisconsin on a great

race day, the harbor of Boston, incessantly crossed by thousands of

boats, these were hardly what would be called hiding-places! If the

daring driver had not perished of which there was always strong

probability; then he must have left America. Perhaps he was in the

waters of the Old World, or else resting in some retreat known only

to himself, and in that case--

"Ah!" I repeated to myself, many times, "for such a retreat, as

secret as inaccessible, this fantastic personage could not find one

better than the Great Eyrie!" But, of course, a boat could not get

there, any more than an automobile. Only high-flying birds of prey,

eagles or condors, could find refuge there.

The nineteenth of June I was going to the police bureau, when, on

leaving my house, I noticed two men who looked at me with a certain

keenness. Not knowing them, I took no notice; and if my attention was

drawn to the matter, it was because my servant spoke of it when I

returned.

For some days, she said, she had noticed that two men seemed to be

spying upon me in the street. They stood constantly, perhaps a

hundred steps from my house; and she suspected that they followed me

each time I went up the street.

"You are sure?" I asked.

"Yes, sir and no longer ago than yesterday, when you came into the

house, these men came slipping along in your footsteps, and then went

away as soon as the door was shut behind you."

"You must be mistaken?"

"I am not, sir."

"And if you met these two men, you would know them?"

"I would."

"Good;" I cried, laughing, "I see you have the very spirit for a

detective. I must engage you as a member of our force."

"Joke if you like, sir. But I have still two good eyes, and I don't

need spectacles to recognize people. Someone is spying on you, that's

certain; and you should put some of your men to track them in turn."

"All right; I promise to do so," I said, to satisfy her. "And when my

men get after them, we shall soon know what these mysterious fellows

want of me."

In truth I did not take the good soul's excited announcement very

seriously. I added, however, "When I go out, I will watch the people

around me with great care."

"That will be best, sir."

My poor old housekeeper was always frightening herself at nothing.

"If I see them again," she added, "I will warn you before you set

foot out of doors."

"Agreed!" And I broke off the conversation, knowing well that if I

allowed her to run on, she would end by being sure that Beelzebub

himself and one of his chief attendants were at my heels.

The two following days, there was certainly no one spying on me,

either at my exits or entrances. So I concluded my old servant had

made much of nothing, as usual. But on the morning of the

twenty-second of June, after rushing upstairs as rapidly as her age

would permit, the devoted old soul burst into my room and in a half

whisper gasped "Sir! Sir!"

"What is it?"

"They are there!"

"Who?" I queried, my mind on anything but the web she had been

spinning about me.

"The two spies!"

"Ah, those wonderful spies!"

"Themselves! In the street! Right in front of our windows! Watching

the house, waiting for you to go out."

I went to the window and raising just an edge of the shade, so as not

to give any warning, I saw two men on the pavement.

They were rather fine-looking men, broad-shouldered and vigorous,

aged somewhat under forty, dressed in the ordinary fashion of the

day, with slouched hats, heavy woolen suits, stout walking shoes and

sticks in hand. Undoubtedly, they were staring persistently at my

apparently unwatchful house. Then, having exchanged a few words, they

strolled off a little way, and returned again.

"Are you sure these are the same men you saw before?"

"Yes, sir."

Evidently, I could no longer dismiss her warning as an hallucination;

and I promised myself to clear up the matter. As to following the men

myself, I was presumably too well known to them. To address them

directly would probably be of no use. But that very day, one of our

best men should be put on watch, and if the spies returned on the

morrow, they should be tracked in their turn, and watched until their

identity was established.

At the moment, they were waiting to follow me to police headquarters?

For it was there that I was bound, as usual. If they accompanied me I

might be able to offer them a hospitality for which they would scarce

thank me.

I took my hat; and while the housekeeper remained peeping from the

window, I went down stairs, opened the door, and stepped into the

street.

The two men were no longer there.

Despite all my watchfulness, that day I saw no more of them as I

passed along the streets. From that time on, indeed, neither my old

servant nor I saw them again before the house, nor did I encounter

them elsewhere. Their appearance, however, was stamped upon my

memory, I would not forget them.

Perhaps after all, admitting that I had been the object of their

espionage, they had been mistaken in my identity. Having obtained a

good look at me, they now followed me no more. So in the end, I came

to regard this matter as of no more importance than the letter with

the initials, M. o. W.

Then, on the twenty-fourth of June, there came a new event, to

further stimulate both my interest and that of the general public in

the previous mysteries of the automobile and the boat. The Washington

Evening Star published the following account, which was next morning

copied by every paper in the country.

"Lake Kirdall in Kansas, forty miles west of Topeka, is little known.

It deserves wider knowledge, and doubtless will have it hereafter,

for attention is now drawn to it in a very remarkable way.

"This lake, deep among the mountains, appears to have no outlet. What

it loses by evaporation, it regains from the little neighboring

streamlets and the heavy rains.

"Lake Kirdall covers about seventy-five square miles, and its level

is but slightly below that of the heights which surround it. Shut in

among the mountains, it can be reached only by narrow and rocky

gorges. Several villages, however, have sprung up upon its banks. It

is full of fish, and fishing-boats cover its waters.

"Lake Kirdall is in many places fifty feet deep close to shore.

Sharp, pointed rocks form the edges of this huge basin. Its surges,

roused by high winds, beat upon its banks with fury, and the houses

near at hand are often deluged with spray as if with the downpour of

a hurricane. The lake, already deep at the edge, becomes yet deeper

toward the center, where in some places soundings show over three

hundred feet of water.

"The fishing industry supports a population of several thousands, and

there are several hundred fishing boats in addition to the dozen or

so of little steamers which serve the traffic of the lake. Beyond the

circle of the mountains lie the railroads which transport the

products of the fishing industry throughout Kansas and the

neighboring states.

"This account of Lake Kirdall is necessary for the understanding of

the remarkable facts which we are about to report."

And this is what the Evening Star then reported in its startling

article. "For some time past, the fishermen have noticed a strange

upheaval in the waters of the lake. Sometimes it rises as if a wave

surged up from its depths. Even in perfectly calm weather, when there

is no wind whatever, this upheaval sometimes arises in a mass of foam.

"Tossed about by violent waves and unaccountable currents, boats have

been swept beyond all control. Sometimes they have been dashed one

against another, and serious damage has resulted.

"This confusion of the waters evidently has its origin somewhere in

the depths of the lake; and various explanations have been offered to

account for it. At first, it was suggested that the trouble was due

to seismic forces, to some volcanic action beneath the lake; but this

hypothesis had to be rejected when it was recognized that the

disturbance was not confined to one locality, but spread itself over

the entire surface of the lake, either at one part or another, in the

center or along the edges, traveling along almost in a regular line

and in a way to exclude entirely all idea of earthquake or volcanic

action.

"Another hypothesis suggested that it was a marine monster who thus

upheaved the waters. But unless the beast had been born in the lake

and had there grown to its gigantic proportions unsuspected, which

was scarce possible, he must have come there from outside. Lake

Kirdall, however, has no connection with any other waters. If this

lake were situated near any of the oceans, there might be

subterranean canals; but in the center of America, and at the height

of some thousands of feet above sea-level, this is not possible. In

short, here is another riddle not easy to solve, and it is much

easier to point out the impossibility of false explanations, than to

discover the true one.

"Is it possible that a submarine boat is being experimented with

beneath the lake? Such boats are no longer impossible today. Some

years ago, at Bridgeport, Connecticut, there was launched a boat, The

Protector, which could go on the water, under the water, and also

upon land. Built by an inventor named Lake, supplied with two motors,

an electric one of seventy-five horse power, and a gasoline one of

two hundred and fifty horse power, it was also provided with wheels a

yard in diameter, which enabled it to roll over the roads, as well as

swim the seas.

"But even then, granting that the turmoil of Lake Kirdall might be

produced by a submarine, brought to a high degree of perfection,

there remains as before the question how could it have reached Lake

Kirdall? The lake, shut in on all sides by a circle of mountains, is

no more accessible to a submarine than to a sea-monster.

"In whatever way this last puzzling question may be solved, the

nature of this strange appearance can no longer be disputed since the

twentieth of June. On that day, in the afternoon, the schooner

"Markel" while speeding with all sails set, came into violent

collision with something just below the water level. There was no

shoal nor rock near; for the lake in this part is eighty or ninety

feet deep. The schooner with both her bow and her side badly broken,

ran great danger of sinking. She managed, however, to reach the shore

before her decks were completely submerged.

"When the 'Markel' had been pumped out and hauled up on shore, an

examination showed that she had received a blow near the bow as if

from a powerful ram.

"From this it seems evident that there is actually a submarine boat

which darts about beneath the surface of Lake Kirdall with most

remarkable rapidity.

"The thing is difficult to explain. Not only is there a question as

to how did the submarine get there? But why is it there? Why does it

never come to the surface? What reason has its owner for remaining

unknown? Are other disasters to be expected from its reckless course?"

The article in the Evening Star closed with this truly striking

suggestion: "After the mysterious automobile, came the mysterious

boat. Now comes the mysterious submarine.

"Must we conclude that the three engines are due to the genius of the

same inventor, and that the three vehicles are in truth but one?"

Chapter 8 - AT ANY COST

The suggestion of the Star came like a revelation. It was accepted

everywhere. Not only were these three vehicles the work of the same

inventor; they were the same machine!

It was not easy to see how the remarkable transformation could be

practically accomplished from one means of locomotion to the other.

How could an automobile become a boat, and yet more, a submarine? All

the machine seemed to lack was the power of flying through the air.

Nevertheless, everything that was known of the three different

machines, as to their size, their shape, their lack of odor or of

steam, and above all their remarkable speed, seemed to imply their

identity. The public, grown blase with so many excitements, found in

this new marvel a stimulus to reawaken their curiosity.

The newspapers dwelt now chiefly on the importance of the invention.

This new engine, whether in one vehicle or three, had given proofs of

its power. What amazing proofs! The invention must be bought at any

price. The United States government must purchase it at once for the

use of the nation. Assuredly, the great European powers would stop at

nothing to be beforehand with America, and gain possession of an

engine so invaluable for military and naval use. What incalculable

advantages would it give to any nation, both on land and sea! Its

destructive powers could not even be estimated, until its qualities

and limitations were better known. No amount of money would be too

great to pay for the secret; America could not put her millions to

better use.

But to buy the machine, it was necessary to find the inventor; and

there seemed the chief difficulty. In vain was Lake Kirdall searched

from end to end. Even its depths were explored with a sounding-line

without result. Must it be concluded that the submarine no longer

lurked beneath its waters? But in that case, how had the boat gotten

away? For that matter, how had it come? An insoluble problem!

The submarine was heard from no more, neither in Lake Kirdall nor

elsewhere. It had disappeared like the automobile from the roads, and

like the boat from the shores of America. Several times in my

interviews with Mr. Ward, we discussed this matter, which still

filled his mind. Our men continued everywhere on the lookout, but as

unsuccessfully as other agents.

On the morning of the twenty-seventh of June, I was summoned into the

presence of Mr. Ward.

"Well, Strock," said he, "here is a splendid chance for you to get

your revenge."

"Revenge for the Great Eyrie disappointment?"

"Of course."

"What chance?" asked I, not knowing if he spoke seriously, or in jest.

"Why, here," he answered. "Would not you like to discover the

inventor of this three-fold machine?"

"I certainly should, Mr. Ward. Give me the order to take charge of

the matter, and I will accomplish the impossible, in order to

succeed. It is true, I believe it will be difficult."

"Undoubtedly, Strock. Perhaps even more difficult than to penetrate

into the Great Eyrie."

It was evident that Mr. Ward was intent on rallying me about my

unsuccess. He would not do that, I felt assured, out of mere

unkindness. Perhaps then he meant to rouse my resolution. He knew me

well; and realized that I would have given anything in the world to

recoup my defeat. I waited quietly for new instructions.

Mr. Ward dropped his jesting and said to me very generously, "I know,

Strock, that you accomplished everything that depended on human

powers; and that no blame attaches to you. But we face now a matter

very different from that of the Great Eyrie. The day the government

decides to force that secret, everything is ready. We have only to

spend some thousands of dollars, and the road will be open."

"That is what I would urge."

"But at present," said Mr. Ward, shaking his head, "it is much more

important to place our hands on this fantastic inventor, who so

constantly escapes us. That is work for a detective, indeed; a master

detective!"

"He has not been heard from again?"

"No; and though there is every reason to believe that he has been,

and still continues, beneath the waters of Lake Kirdall, it has been

impossible to find any trace of him anywhere around there. One would

almost fancy he had the power of making himself invisible, this

Proteus of a mechanic!"

"It seems likely," said I, "that he will never be seen until he

wishes to be."

"True, Strock. And to my mind there is only one way of dealing with

him, and that is to offer him such an enormous price that he cannot

refuse to sell his invention."

Mr. Ward was right. Indeed, the government had already made the

effort to secure speech with this hero of the day, than whom surely

no human being has ever better merited the title. The press had

widely spread the news, and this extraordinary individual must

assuredly know what the government desired of him, and how completely

he could name the terms he wished.

"Surely," added Mr. Ward, "this invention can be of no personal use

to the man, that he should hide it from the rest of us. There is

every reason why he should sell it. Can this unknown be already some

dangerous criminal who, thanks to his machine, hopes to defy all

pursuit?"

My chief then went on to explain that it had been decided to employ

other means in search of the inventor. It was possible after all that

he had perished with his machine in some dangerous maneuver. If so,

the ruined vehicle might prove almost as valuable and instructive to

the mechanical world as the man himself. But since the accident to

the schooner "Markel" on Lake Kirdall, no news of him whatever had

reached the police.

On this point Mr. Ward did not attempt to hide his disappointment and

his anxiety. Anxiety, yes, for it was manifestly becoming more and

more difficult for him to fulfill his duty of protecting the public.

How could we arrest criminals, if they could flee from justice at

such speed over both land and sea? How could we pursue them under the

oceans? And when dirigible balloons should also have reached their

full perfection, we would even have to chase men through the air! I

asked myself if my colleagues and I would not find ourselves some day

reduced to utter helplessness? If police officials, become a useless

incumbrance, would be definitely discarded by society?

Here, there recurred to me the jesting letter I had received a

fortnight before, the letter which threatened my liberty and even my

life. I recalled, also, the singular espionage of which I had been

the subject. I asked myself if I had better mention these things to

Mr. Ward. But they seemed to have absolutely no relation to the

matter now in hand. The Great Eyrie affair had been definitely put

aside by the government, since an eruption was no longer threatening.

And they now wished to employ me upon this newer matter. I waited,

then, to mention this letter to my chief at some future time, when it

would be not so sore a joke to me.

Mr. Ward again took up our conversation. "We are resolved by some

means to establish communication with this inventor. He has

disappeared, it is true; but he may reappear at any moment, and in

any part of the country. I have chosen you, Strock, to follow him the

instant he appears. You must hold yourself ready to leave Washington

on the moment. Do not quit your house, except to come here to

headquarters each day; notify me, each time by telephone, when you

start from home, and report to me personally the moment you arrive

here."

"I will follow orders exactly, Mr. Ward," I answered. "But permit me

one question. Ought I to act alone, or will it not be better to join

with me?"

"That is what I intend," said the chief, interrupting me. "You are to

choose two of our men whom you think the best fitted."

"I will do so, Mr. Ward. And now, if some day or other I stand in the

presence of our man, what am I to do with him?"

"Above all things, do not lose sight of him. If there is no other

way, arrest him. You shall have a warrant."

"A useful precaution, Mr. Ward. If he started to jump into his

automobile and to speed away at the rate we know of, I must stop him

at any cost. One cannot argue long with a man making two hundred

miles an hour!"

"You must prevent that, Strock. And the arrest made, telegraph me.

After that, the matter will be in my hands."

"Count on me, Mr. Ward; at any hour, day or night, I shall be ready

to start with my men. I thank you for having entrusted this mission

to me. If it succeeds, it will be a great honor--"

"And of great profit," added my chief, dismissing me.

Returning home, I made all preparations for a trip of indefinite

duration. Perhaps my good housekeeper imagined that I planned a

return to the Great Eyrie, which she regarded as an ante-chamber of

hell itself. She said nothing, but went about her work with a most

despairing face. Nevertheless, sure as I was of her discretion, I

told her nothing. In this great mission I would confide in no one.

My choice of the two men to accompany me was easily made. They both

belonged to my own department, and had many times under my direct

command given proofs of their vigor, courage and intelligence. One,

John Hart, of Illinois, was a man of thirty years; the other, aged

thirty-two, was Nab Walker, of Massachusetts. I could not have had

better assistants.

Several days passed, without news, either of the automobile, the

boat, or the submarine. There were rumors in plenty; but the police

knew them to be false. As to the reckless stories that appeared in

the newspapers, they had most of them, no foundation whatever. Even

the best journals cannot be trusted to refuse an exciting bit of news

on the mere ground of its unreliability.

Then, twice in quick succession, there came what seemed trustworthy

reports of the "man of the hour." The first asserted that he had been

seen on the roads of Arkansas, near Little Rock. The second, that he

was in the very middle of Lake Superior.

Unfortunately, these two notices were absolutely unreconcilable; for

while the first gave the afternoon of June twenty-sixth, as the time

of appearance, the second set it for the evening of the same day.

Now, these two points of the United States territory are not less

than eight hundred miles apart. Even granting the automobile this

unthinkable speed, greater than any it had yet shown, how could it

have crossed all the intervening country unseen? How could it

traverse the States of Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa and Wisconsin, from

end to end without anyone of our agents giving us warning, without

any interested person rushing to a telephone?

After these two momentary appearances, if appearances they were, the

machine again dropped out of knowledge. Mr. Ward did not think it

worth while to dispatch me and my men to either point whence it had

been reported.

Yet since this marvelous machine seemed still in existence, something

must be done. The following official notice was published in every

newspaper of the United States under July 3d. It was couched in the

most formal terms.

"During the month of April, of the present year, an automobile

traversed the roads of Pennsylvania, of Kentucky, of Ohio, of

Tennessee, of Missouri, of Illinois; and on the twenty-seventh of

May, during the race held by the American Automobile Club, it covered

the course in Wisconsin. Then it disappeared.

"During the first week of June, a boat maneuvering at great speed

appeared off the coast of New England between Cape Cod and Cape

Sable, and more particularly around Boston. Then it disappeared.

"In the second fortnight of the same month, a submarine boat was run

beneath the waters of Lake Kirdall, in Kansas. Then it disappeared.

"Everything points to the belief that the same inventor must have

built these three machines, or perhaps that they are the same

machine, constructed so as to travel both on land and water.

"A proposition is therefore addressed to the said inventor, whoever

he be, with the aim of acquiring the said machine.

"He is requested to make himself known and to name the terms upon

which he will treat with the United States government. He is also

requested to answer as promptly as possible to the Department of

Federal Police, Washington, D. C., United States of America."

Such was the notice printed in large type on the front page of every

newspaper. Surely it could not fail to reach the eye of him for whom

it was intended, wherever he might be. He would read it. He could

scarce fail to answer it in some manner. And why should he refuse

such an unlimited offer? We had only to await his reply.

One can easily imagine how high the public curiosity rose. From

morning till night, an eager and noisy crowd pressed about the bureau

of police, awaiting the arrival of a letter or a telegram. The best

reporters were on the spot. What honor, what profit would come to the

paper which was first to publish the famous news! To know at last the

name and place of the undiscoverable unknown! And to know if he would

agree to some bargain with the government! It goes without saying

that America does things on a magnificent scale. Millions would not

be lacking for the inventor. If necessary all the millionaires in the

country would open their inexhaustible purses!

The day passed. To how many excited and impatient people it seemed to

contain more than twenty-four hours! And each hour held far more than

sixty minutes! There came no answer, no letter, no telegram! The

night following, there was still no news. And it was the same the

next day and the next.

There came, however another result, which had been fully foreseen.

The cables informed Europe of what the United States government had

done. The different Powers of the Old World hoped also to obtain

possession of the wonderful invention. Why should they not struggle

for an advantage so tremendous? Why should they not enter the contest

with their millions?

In brief, every great Power took part in the affair, France, England,

Russia, Italy, Austria, Germany. Only the states of the second order

refrained from entering, with their smaller resources, upon a useless

effort. The European press published notices identical with that of

the United States. The extraordinary "chauffeur" had only to speak,

to become a rival to the Vanderbilts, the Astors, the Goulds, the

Morgans, and the Rothschilds of every country of Europe.

And, when the mysterious inventor made no sign, what attractive

offers were held forth to tempt him to discard the secrecy in which

he was enwrapped! The whole world became a public market, an auction

house whence arose the most amazing bids. Twice a day the newspapers

would add up the amounts, and these kept rising from millions to

millions. The end came when the United States Congress, after a

memorable session, voted to offer the sum of twenty million dollars.

And there was not a citizen of the States of whatever rank, who

objected to the amount, so much importance was attached to the

possession of this prodigious engine of locomotion. As for me, I said

emphatically to my old housekeeper: "The machine is worth even more

than that."

Evidently the other nations of the world did not think so, for their

bids remained below the final sum. But how useless was this mighty

struggle of the great rivals! The inventor did not appear! He did not

exist! He had never existed! It was all a monstrous pretense of the

American newspapers. That, at least, became the announced view of the

Old World.

And so the time passed. There was no further news of our man, there

was no response from him. He appeared no more. For my part, not

knowing what to think, I commenced to lose all hope of reaching any

solution to the strange affair.

Then on the morning of the fifteenth of July, a letter without

postmark was found in the mailbox of the police bureau. After the

authorities had studied it, it was given out to the Washington

journals, which published it in facsimile, in special numbers. It was

couched as follows:

Chapter 9 - THE SECOND LETTER

On Board the Terror

July 15.

To the Old and New World,

The propositions emanating from the different governments

of Europe, as also that which has finally been made by the

United States of America, need expect no other answer than

this:

I refuse absolutely and definitely the sums offered for my

invention.

My machine will be neither French nor German, nor Austrian

nor Russian, nor English nor American.

The invention will remain my own, and I shall use it as

pleases me.

With it, I hold control of the entire world, and there

lies no force within the reach of humanity which is able to

resist me, under any circumstances whatsoever.

Let no one attempt to seize or stop me. It is, and will

be, utterly impossible. Whatever injury anyone attempts

against me, I will return a hundredfold.

As to the money which is offered me, I despise it! I have

no need of it. Moreover, on the day when it pleases me to

have millions, or billions, I have but to reach out my hand

and take them.

Let both the Old and the New World realize this: They can

accomplish nothing against me; I can accomplish anything

against them.

I sign this letter:

The Master of the World.

Chapter 10 - OUTSIDE THE LAW

Such was the letter addressed to the government of the United States.

As to the person who had placed it in the mail-box of the police, no

one had seen him.

The sidewalk in front of our offices had probably not been once

vacant during the entire night. From sunset to sunrise, there had

always been people, busy, anxious, or curious, passing before our

door. It is true, however, that even then, the bearer of the letter

might easily have slipped by unseen and dropped the letter in the

box. The night had been so dark, you could scarcely see from one side

of the street to the other.

I have said that this letter appeared in facsimile in all the

newspapers to which the government communicated it. Perhaps one would

naturally imagine that the first comment of the public would be,

"This is the work of some practical joker." It was in that way that I

had accepted my letter from the Great Eyrie, five weeks before.

But this was not the general attitude toward the present letter,

neither in Washington, nor in the rest of America. To the few who

would have maintained that the document should not be taken

seriously, an immense majority would have responded. "This letter has

not the style nor the spirit of a jester. Only one man could have

written it; and that is the inventor of this unapproachable machine."

To most people this conclusion seemed indisputable owing to a curious

state of mind easily explainable. For all the strange facts of which

the key had hitherto been lacking, this letter furnished an

explanation. The theory now almost universally accepted was as

follows. The inventor had hidden himself for a time, only in order to

reappear more startlingly in some new light. Instead of having

perished in an accident, he had concealed himself in some retreat

where the police were unable to discover him. Then to assert

positively his attitude toward all governments he had written this

letter. But instead of dropping it in the post in any one locality,

which might have resulted in its being traced to him, he had come to

Washington and deposited it himself in the very spot suggested by the

government's official notice, the bureau of police.

Well! If this remarkable personage had reckoned that this new proof

of his existence would make some noise in two worlds, he certainly

figured rightly. That day, the millions of good folk who read and

re-read their daily paper could to employ a well-known phrase,

scarcely believe their eyes.

As for myself, I studied carefully every phrase of the defiant

document. The hand-writing was black and heavy. An expert at

chirography would doubtless have distinguished in the lines traces of

a violent temperament, of a character stern and unsocial. Suddenly, a

cry escaped me a cry that fortunately my housekeeper did not hear.

Why had I not noticed sooner the resemblance of the handwriting to

that of the letter I had received from Morganton?

Moreover, a yet more significant coincidence, the initials with which

my letter had been signed, did they not stand for the words "Master

of the World?"

And whence came the second letter? "On Board the 'Terror.'" Doubtless

this name was that of the triple machine commanded by the mysterious

captain. The initials in my letter were his own signature; and it was

he who had threatened me, if I dared to renew my attempt on the Great

Eyrie.

I rose and took from my desk the letter of June thirteenth. I

compared it with the facsimile in the newspapers. There was no doubt

about it. They were both in the same peculiar hand-writing.

My mind worked eagerly. I sought to trace the probable deductions

from this striking fact, known only to myself. The man who had

threatened me was the commander of this "Terror"--startling name,

only too well justified! I asked myself if our search could not now

be prosecuted under less vague conditions. Could we not now start our

men upon a trail which would lead definitely to success? In short,

what relation existed between the "Terror" and the Great Eyrie? What

connection was there between the phenomena of the Blueridge

Mountains, arid the no less phenomenal performances of the fantastic

machine?

I knew what my first step should be; and with the letter in my

pocket, I hastened to police headquarters. Inquiring if Mr. Ward was

within and receiving an affirmative reply, I hastened toward his

door, and rapped upon it with unusual and perhaps unnecessary vigor.

Upon his call to enter, I stepped eagerly into the room.

The chief had spread before him the letter published in the papers,

not a facsimile, but the original itself which had been deposited in

the letter-box of the department.

"You come as if you had important news, Strock?"

"Judge for yourself, Mr. Ward;" and I drew from my pocket the letter

with the initials.

Mr. Ward took it, glanced at its face, and asked, "What is this?"

"A letter signed only with initials, as you can see."

"And where was it posted?"

"In Morganton, in North Carolina."

"When did you receive it?"

"A month ago, the thirteenth of June."

"What did you think of it then?"

"That it had been written as a joke."

"And now Strock?"

"I think, what you will think, Mr. Ward, after you have studied it."

My chief turned to the letter again and read it carefully. "It is

signed with three initials," said he.

"Yes, Mr. Ward, and those initials belong to the words, 'Master of

the World,' in this facsimile."

"Of which this is the original," responded Mr. Ward, taking it up.

"It is quite evident," I urged, "that the two letters are by the same

hand."

"It seems so."

"You see what threats are made against me, to protect the Great

Eyrie."

"Yes, the threat of death! But Strock, you have had this letter for a

month. Why have you not shown it to me before?"

"Because I attached no importance to it. Today, after the letter from

the 'Terror,' it must be taken seriously."

"I agree with you. It appears to me most important. I even hope it

may prove the means of tracking this strange personage."

"That is what I also hope, Mr. Ward."

"Only what connection can possibly exist between the 'Terror' and the

Great Eyrie?"

"That I do not know. I cannot even imagine."

"There can be but one explanation," continued Mr. Ward, "though it is

almost inadmissible, even impossible."

"And that is?"

"That the Great Eyrie was the spot selected by the inventor, where he

gathered his material."

"That is impossible!" cried I. "In what way would he get his material

in there? And how get his machine out? After what I have seen, Mr.

Ward, your suggestion is impossible."

"Unless, Strock--"

"Unless what?" I demanded.

"Unless the machine of this Master of the World has also wings, which

permit it to take refuge in the Great Eyrie."

At the suggestion that the "Terror," which had searched the deeps of

the sea, might be capable also of rivaling the vultures and the

eagles, I could not restrain an expressive shrug of incredulity.

Neither did Mr. Ward himself dwell upon the extravagant hypothesis.

He took the two letters and compared them afresh. He examined them

under a microscope, especially the signatures, and established their

perfect identity. Not only the same hand, but the same pen had

written them.

After some moments of further reflection, Mr. Ward said, "I will keep

your letter, Strock. Decidedly, I think, that you are fated to play

an important part in this strange affair or rather in these two

affairs. What thread attaches them, I cannot yet see; but I am sure

the thread exists. You have been connected with the first, and it

will not be surprising if you have a large part in the second."

"I hope so, Mr. Ward. You know how inquisitive I am."

"I do, Strock. That is understood. Now, I can only repeat my former

order; hold yourself in readiness to leave Washington at a moment's

warning."

All that day, the public excitement caused by the defiant letter

mounted steadily higher. It was felt both at the White House and at

the Capitol that public opinion absolutely demanded some action. Of

course, it was difficult to do anything. Where could one find this

Master of the World? And even if he were discovered, how could he be

captured? He had at his disposal not only the powers he had

displayed, but apparently still greater resources as yet unknown. How

had he been able to reach Lake Kirdall over the rocks; and how had he

escaped from it? Then, if he had indeed appeared on Lake Superior,

how had he covered all the intervening territory unseen?

What a bewildering affair it was altogether! This, of course, made it

all the more important to get to the bottom of it. Since the millions

of dollars had been refused, force must be employed. The inventor and

his invention were not to be bought. And in what haughty and menacing

terms he had couched his refusal! So be it! He must be treated as an

enemy of society, against whom all means became justified, that he

might be deprived of his power to injure others. The idea that he had

perished was now entirely discarded. He was alive, very much alive;

and his existence constituted a perpetual public danger!

Influenced by these ideas, the government issued the following

proclamation:

"Since the commander of the 'Terror' has refused to make public his

invention, at any price whatever, since the use which he makes of his

machine constitutes a public menace, against which it is impossible

to guard, the said commander of the 'Terror' is hereby placed beyond

the protection of the law. Any measures taken in the effort to

capture or destroy either him or his machine will be approved and

rewarded."

It was a declaration of war, war to the death against this "Master of

the World" who thought to threaten and defy an entire nation, the

American nation!

Before the day was over, various rewards of large amounts were

promised to anyone who revealed the hiding place of this dangerous

inventor, to anyone who could identify him, and to anyone who should

rid the country of him.

Such was the situation during the last fortnight of July. All was

left to the hazard of fortune. The moment the outlaw re-appeared he

would be seen and signaled, and when the chance came he would be

arrested. This could not be accomplished when he was in his

automobile on land or in his boat on the water. No; he must be seized

suddenly, before he had any opportunity to escape by means of that

speed which no other machine could equal.

I was therefore all alert, awaiting an order from Mr. Ward to start

out with my men. But the order did not arrive for the very good

reason that the man whom it concerned remained undiscovered. The end

of July approached. The newspapers continued the excitement. They

published repeated rumors. New clues were constantly being announced.

But all this was mere idle talk. Telegrams reached the police bureau

from every part of America, each contradicting and nullifying the

others. The enormous rewards offered could not help but lead to

accusations, errors, and blunders, made, many of them, in good faith.

One time it would be a cloud of dust, which must have contained the

automobile. At another time, almost any wave on any of America's

thousand lakes represented the submarine. In truth, in the excited

state of the public imagination, apparitions assailed us from every

side.

At last, on the twenty-ninth of July, I received a telephone message

to come to Mr. Ward on the instant. Twenty minutes later I was in his

cabinet.

"You leave in an hour, Strock," said he.

"Where for?"

"For Toledo."

"It has been seen?"

"Yes. At Toledo you will get your final orders."

"In an hour, my men and I will be on the way."

"Good! And, Strock, I now give you a formal order."

"What is it, Mr. Ward?"

"To succeed! This time to succeed!"

Chapter 11 - THE CAMPAIGN

So the undiscoverable commander had reappeared upon the territory of

the United States! He had never shown himself in Europe either on the

roads or in the seas. He had not crossed the Atlantic, which

apparently he could have traversed in three days. Did he then intend

to make only America the scene of his exploits? Ought we to conclude

from this that he was an American?

Let me insist upon this point. It seemed clear that the submarine

might easily have crossed the vast sea which separates the New and

the Old World. Not only would its amazing speed have made its voyage

short, in comparison to that of the swiftest steamship, but also it

would have escaped all the storms that make the voyage dangerous.

Tempests did not exist for it. It had but to abandon the surface of

the waves, and it could find absolute calm a few score feet beneath.

But the inventor had not crossed the Atlantic, and if he were to be

captured now, it would probably be in Ohio, since Toledo is a city of

that state.

This time the fact of the machine's appearance had been kept secret,

between the police and the agent who had warned them, and whom I was

hurrying to meet. No journal--and many would have paid high for the

chance--was printing this news. We had decided that nothing should

be revealed until our effort was at an end. No indiscretion would be

committed by either my comrades or myself.

The man to whom I was sent with an order from Mr. Ward was named

Arthur Wells. He awaited us at Toledo. The city of Toledo stands at

the western end of Lake Erie. Our train sped during the night across

West Virginia and Ohio. There was no delay; and before noon the next

day the locomotive stopped in the Toledo depot.

John Hart, Nab Walker and I stepped out with traveling bags in our

hands, and revolvers in our pockets. Perhaps we should need weapons

for an attack, or even to defend ourselves. Scarcely had I stepped

from the train when I picked out the man who awaited us. He was

scanning the arriving passengers impatiently, evidently as eager and

full of haste as I.

I approached him. "Mr. Wells?" said I.

"Mr. Strock?" asked he.

"Yes."

"I am at your command," said Mr. Wells.

"Are we to stop any time in Toledo?" I asked.

"No; with your permission, Mr. Strock. A carriage with two good

horses is waiting outside the station; and we must leave at once to

reach our destination as soon as possible."

"We will go at once," I answered, signing to my two men to follow us.

"Is it far?"

"Twenty miles."

"And the place is called?"

"Black Rock Creek."

Having left our bags at a hotel, we started on our drive. Much to my

surprise I found there were provisions sufficient for several days

packed beneath the seat of the carriage. Mr. Wells told me that the

region around Black Rock Creek was among the wildest in the state.

There was nothing there to attract either farmers or fishermen. We

would find not an inn for our meals nor a room in which to sleep.

Fortunately, during the July heat there would be no hardship even if

we had to lie one or two nights under the stars.

More probably, however, if we were successful, the matter would not

occupy us many hours. Either the commander of the "Terror" would be

surprised before he had a chance to escape, or he would take to

flight and we must give up all hope of arresting him.

I found Arthur Wells to be a man of about forty, large and powerful.

I knew him by reputation to be one of the best of our local police

agents. Cool in danger and enterprising always, he had proven his

daring on more than one occasion at the peril of his life. He had

been in Toledo on a wholly different mission, when chance had thrown

him on the track of the "Terror."

We drove rapidly along the shore of Lake Erie, toward the southwest.

This inland sea of water is on the northern boundary of the United

States, lying between Canada on one side and the States of Ohio,

Pennsylvania and New York on the other. If I stop to mention the

geographical position of this lake, its depth, its extent, and the

waters nearest around, it is because the knowledge is necessary for

the understanding of the events which were about to happen.

The surface of Lake Erie covers about ten thousand square miles. It

is nearly six hundred feet above sea level. It is joined on the

northwest, by means of the Detroit River, with the still greater

lakes to the westward, and receives their waters. It has also rivers

of its own though of less importance, such as the Rocky, the

Cuyahoga, and the Black. The lake empties at its northeastern end

into Lake Ontario by means of Niagara River and its celebrated falls.

The greatest known depth of Lake Erie is over one hundred and thirty

feet. Hence it will be seen that the mass of its waters is

considerable. In short, this is a region of most magnificent lakes.

The land, though not situated far northward, is exposed to the full

sweep of the Arctic cold. The region to the northward is low, and the

winds of winter rush down with extreme violence. Hence Lake Erie is

sometimes frozen over from shore to shore.

The principal cities on the borders of this great lake are Buffalo at

the east, which belongs to New York State, and Toledo in Ohio, at the

west, with Cleveland and Sandusky, both Ohio cities, at the south.

Smaller towns and villages are numerous along the shore. The traffic

is naturally large, its annual value being estimated at considerably

over two million dollars.

Our carriage followed a rough and little used road along the borders

of the lake; and as we toiled along, Arthur Wells told me, what he

had learned.

Less than two days before, on the afternoon of July twenty-seventh

Wells had been riding on horseback toward the town of Herly. Five

miles outside the town, he was riding through a little wood, when he

saw, far up across the lake, a submarine which rose suddenly above

the waves. He stopped, tied his horse, and stole on foot to the edge

of the lake. There, from behind a tree he had seen with his own eyes

seen this submarine advance toward him, and stop at the mouth of

Black Rock Creek. Was it the famous machine for which the whole world

was seeking, which thus came directly to his feet?

When the submarine was close to the rocks, two men climbed out upon

its deck and stepped ashore. Was one of them this Master of the

World, who had not been seen since he was reported from Lake

Superior? Was this the mysterious "Terror" which had thus risen from

the depths of Lake Erie?

"I was alone," said Wells. "Alone on the edge of the Creek. If you

and your assistants, Mr. Strock had been there, we four against two,

we would have been able to reach these men and seize them before they

could have regained their boat and fled."

"Probably," I answered. "But were there no others on the boat with

them? Still, if we had seized the two, we could at least have learned

who they were."

"And above all," added Wells, "if one of them turned out to be the

captain of the 'Terror!'"

"I have only one fear, Wells; this submarine, whether it is the one

we seek or another, may have left the creek since your departure."

"We shall know about that in a few hours, now. Pray Heaven they are

still there! Then when night comes?"

"But," I asked, "did you remain watching in the wood until night?"

"No; I left after an hour's watching, and rode straight for the

telegraph station at Toledo. I reached there late at night and sent

immediate word to Washington."

"That was night before last. Did you return yesterday to Black Rock

Creek?"

"Yes."

"The submarine was still there?"

"In the same spot."

"And the two men?"

"The same two men. I judge that some accident had happened, and they

came to this lonely spot to repair it."

"Probably so," said I. "Some damage which made it impossible for them

to regain their usual hiding-place. If only they are still here!"

"I have reason to believe they will be, for quite a lot of stuff was

taken out of the boat, and laid about upon the shore; and as well as

I could discern from a distance they seemed to be working on board."

"Only the two men?"

"Only the two."

"But," protested I, "can two be sufficient to handle an apparatus of

such speed, and of such intricacy, as to be at once automobile, boat

and submarine?"

"I think not, Mr. Strock; but I only saw the same two. Several times

they came to the edge of the little wood where I was hidden, and

gathered sticks for a fire which they made upon the beach. The region

is so uninhabited and the creek so hidden from the lake that they ran

little danger of discovery. They seemed to know this."

"You would recognize them both again?"

"Perfectly. One was of middle size, vigorous, and quick of movement,

heavily bearded. The other was smaller, but stocky and strong.

Yesterday, as before, I left the wood about five o'clock and hurried

back to Toledo. There I found a telegram from Mr. Ward, notifying me

of your coming; and I awaited you at the station."

Summed up, then, the news amounted to this: For forty hours past a

submarine, presumably the one we sought, had been hidden in Black

Rock Creek, engaged in repairs. Probably these were absolutely

necessary, and we should find the boat still there. As to how the

"Terror" came to be in Lake Erie, Arthur Wells and I discussed that,

and agreed that it was a very probable place for her. The last time

she had been seen was on Lake Superior. From there to Lake Erie the

machine could have come by the roads of Michigan, but since no one

had remarked its passage and as both the police and the people were

specially aroused and active in that portion of the country, it

seemed more probable, that the "Terror" had come by water. There was

a clear route through the chain of the Great Lakes and their rivers,

by which in her character of a submarine she could easily proceed

undiscovered.

And now, if the "Terror" had already left the creek, or if she

escaped when we attempted to seize her, in what direction would she

turn? In any case, there was little chance o following her. There

were two torpedo-destroyers at the port of Buffalo, at the other

extremity of Lake Erie. By treaty between the United States and

Canada, there are no vessels of war whatever on the Great Lakes.

These might, however, have been little launches belonging to the

customs service. Before I left Washington Mr. Ward had informed me

of their presence; and a telegram to their commanders would, if there

were need, start them in pursuit of the "Terror." But despite their

splendid speed, how could they vie with her! And if she plunged

beneath the waters, they would be helpless. Moreover Arthur Wells

averred that in case of a battle, the advantage would not be with the

destroyers, despite their large crews, and many guns. Hence, if we

did not succeed this night, the campaign would end in failure.

Arthur Wells knew Black Rock Creek thoroughly, having hunted there

more than once. It was bordered in most places with sharp rocks

against which the waters of the lake beat heavily. Its channel was

some thirty feet deep, so that the "Terror" could take shelter either

upon the surface or under water. In two or three places the steep

banks gave way to sand beaches which led to little gorges reaching up

toward the woods, two or three hundred feet.

It was seven in the evening when our carriage reached these woods.

There was still daylight enough for us to see easily, even in the

shade of the trees. To have crossed openly to the edge of the creek

would have exposed us to the view of the men of the "Terror," if she

were still there, and thus give her warning to escape.

"Had we better stop here?" I asked Wells, as our rig drew up to the

edge of the woods.

"No, Mr. Strock," said he. "We had better leave the carriage deeper

in the woods, where there will be no chance whatever of our being

seen."

"Can the carriage drive under these trees?"

"It can," declared Wells. "I have already explored these woods

thoroughly. Five or six hundred feet from here, there is a little

clearing, where we will be completely hidden, and where our horses

may find pasture. Then, as soon as it is dark, we will go down to the

beach, at the edge of the rocks which shut in the mouth of the creek.

Thus if the 'Terror' is still there, we shall stand between her and

escape."

Eager as we all were for action, it was evidently best to do as Wells

suggested and wait for night. The intervening time could well be

occupied as he said. Leading the horses by the bridle, while they

dragged the empty carriage, we proceeded through the heavy woods. The

tall pines, the stalwart oaks, the cypress scattered here and there,

made the evening darker overhead. Beneath our feet spread a carpet of

scattered herbs, pine needles and dead leaves. Such was the thickness

of the upper foliage that the last rays of the setting sun could no

longer penetrate here. We had to feel our way; and it was not without

some knocks that the carriage reached the clearing ten minutes later.

This clearing, surrounded by great trees, formed a sort of oval,

covered with rich grass. Here it was still daylight, and the darkness

would scarcely deepen for over an hour. There was thus time to

arrange an encampment and to rest awhile after our hard trip over the

rough and rocky roads.

Of course, we were intensely eager to approach the Creek and see if

the "Terror" was still there. But prudence restrained us. A little

patience, and the night-would enable us to reach a commanding

position unsuspected. Wells urged this strongly; and despite my

eagerness, I felt that he was right.

The horses were unharnessed, and left to browse under the care of the

coachman who had driven us. The provisions were unpacked, and John

Hart and Nab Walker spread out a meal on the grass at the foot of a

superb cypress which recalled to me the forest odors of Morganton and

Pleasant Garden. We were hungry and thirsty; and food and drink were

not lacking. Then our pipes were lighted to calm the anxious moments

of waiting that remained.

Silence reigned within the wood. The last song of the birds had

ceased. With the coming of night the breeze fell little by little,

and the leaves scarcely quivered even at the tops of the highest

branches. The sky darkened rapidly after sundown and twilight

deepened into obscurity.

I looked at my watch, it was half-past eight. "It is time, Wells."

"When you will, Mr. Strock."

"Then let us start."

We cautioned the coachman not to let the horses stray beyond the

clearing. Then we started. Wells went in advance, I followed him, and

John Hart and Nab Walker came behind. In the darkness, we three would

have been helpless without the guidance of Wells. Soon we reached the

farther border of the woods; and before us stretched the banks of

Black Rock Creek.

All was silent; all seemed deserted. We could advance without risk.

If the "Terror" was there, she had cast anchor behind the rocks. But

was she there? That was the momentous question! As we approached the

denouement of this exciting affair, my heart was in my throat.

Wells motioned to us to advance. The sand of the shore crunched

beneath our steps. The two hundred feet between us and the mouth of

the Creek were crossed softly, and a few minutes sufficed to bring us

to the rocks at the edge of the lake.

There was nothing! Nothing!

The spot where Wells had left the "Terror" twenty-four hours before

was empty. The "Master of the World" was no longer at Black Rock

Creek.

Chapter 12 - BLACK ROCK CREEK

Human nature is prone to illusions. Of course, there had been all

along a probability that the "Terror" had deserted the locality, even

admitting that it was she Wells had seen the previous day. If some

damage to her triple system of locomotion had prevented her from

regaining either by land or by water her usual hiding-place, and

obliged her to seek refuge in Black Rock Creek, what ought we to

conclude now upon finding her here no longer? Obviously, that, having

finished her repairs, she had continued on her way, and was already

far beyond the waters of Lake Erie.

But probable as this result had been from the first, we had more and

more ignored it as our trip proceeded. We had come to accept as a

fact that we should meet the "Terror," that we should find her

anchored at the base of the rocks where Wells had seen her.

And now what disappointment! I might even say, what despair! All our

efforts gone for nothing! Even if the "Terror" was still upon the

lake, to find her, reach her and capture her, was beyond our power,

and it might as well be fully recognized beyond all human power.

We stood there, Wells and I, completely crushed, while John Hart and

Nab Walker, no less chagrined, went tramping along the banks of the

Creek, seeking any trace that had been left behind.

Posted there, at the mouth of the Creek, Wells and I exchanged

scarcely a word. What need was there of words to enable us to

understand each other! After our eagerness and our despair, we were

now exhausted. Defeated in our well-planned attempt, we felt as

unwilling to abandon our campaign, as we were unable to continue it.

Nearly an hour slipped by. We could not resolve to leave the place.

Our eyes still sought to pierce the night. Sometimes a glimmer, due

to the sparkle of the waters, trembled on the surface of the lake.

Then it vanished, and with it the foolish hope that it had roused.

Sometimes again, we thought we saw a shadow outlined against the

dark, the silhouette of an approaching boat. Yet again some eddies

would swirl up at our feet, as if the Creek had been stirred within

its depths. These vain imaginings were dissipated one after the

other. They were but the illusions raised by our strained fancies.

At length our companions rejoined us. My first question was, "Nothing

new?"

"Nothing," said John Hart.

"You have explored both banks of the Creek?"

"Yes," responded Nab Walker, "as far as the shallow water above; and

we have not seen even a vestige of the things which Mr. Wells saw

laid on the shore."

"Let us wait awhile," said I, unable to resolve upon a return to the

woods.

At that moment our attention was caught by a sudden agitation of the

waters, which swelled upward at the foot of the rocks.

"It is like the swell from a vessel," said Wells.

"Yes," said I, instinctively lowering my voice. "What has caused it?

The wind has completely died out. Does it come from something on the

surface of the lake?"

"Or from something underneath," said Wells, bending forward, the

better to determine.

The commotion certainly seemed as if caused by some boat, whether

from beneath the water, or approaching the creek from outside upon

the lake.

Silent, motionless, we strained eyes and ears to pierce the profound

obscurity. The faint noise of the waves of the lake lapping on the

shore beyond the creek, came to us distinctly through the night. John

Hart and Nab Walker drew a little aside upon a higher ridge of rocks.

As for me, I leaned close to the water to watch the agitation. It did

not lessen. On the contrary it became momentarily more evident, and

I began to distinguish a sort of regular throbbing, like that

produced by a screw in motion.

"There is no doubt," declared Wells, leaning close to me, "there is a

boat coming toward us."

"There certainly is," responded I, "unless they have whales or sharks

in Lake Erie."

"No, it is a boat," repeated Wells. "Is she headed toward the mouth

of the creek, or is she going further up it?"

"This is just where you saw the boat twice before?"

"Yes, just here."

"Then if this is the same one, and it can be no other, she will

probably return to the same spot."

"There!" whispered Wells, extending his hand toward the entrance of

the creek.

Our companions rejoined us, and all four, crouching low upon the

bank, peered in the direction he pointed.

We vaguely distinguished a black mass moving through the darkness. It

advanced very slowly and was still outside the creek, upon the lake,

perhaps a cable's length to the northeast. We could scarcely hear

even now the faint throbbing of its engines. Perhaps they had stopped

and the boat was only gliding forward under their previous impulse.

It seemed, then, that this was indeed the submarine which Wells had

watched, and it was returning to pass this night, like the last,

within the shelter of the creek.

Why had it left the anchorage, if only to return? Had it suffered

some new disaster, which again impaired its power? Or had it been

before compelled to leave, with its repairs still unfinished? What

cause constrained it to return here? Was there some imperious reason

why it could no longer be turned into an automobile, and go darting

away across the roads of Ohio?

To all these questions which came crowding upon me, I could give no

answer. Furthermore both Wells and I kept reasoning under the

assumption that this was really the "Terror" commanded by the "Master

of the World" who had dated from it his letter of defiance to the

government. Yet this premise was still unproven, no matter how

confident we might feel of it.

Whatever boat this was, that stole so softly through the night, it

continued to approach us. Assuredly its captain must know perfectly

the channels and shores of Black Rock Creek, since he ventured here

in such darkness. Not a light showed upon the deck. Not a single ray

from within the cabin glimmered through any crevice.

A moment later, we heard some machinery moving very softly. The swell

of the eddies grew stronger, and in a few moments the boat touched

the quay.

This word "quay," only used in that region, exactly describes the

spot. The rocks at our feet formed a level, five or six feet above

the water, and descending to it perpendicularly, exactly like a

landing wharf.

"We must not stop here," whispered Wells, seizing me by the arm.

"No," I answered, "they might see us. We must lie crouched upon the

beach! Or we might hide in some crevice of the rocks."

"We will follow you."

There was not a moment to lose. The dark mass was now close at hand,

and on its deck, but slightly raised above the surface of the water,

we could trace the silhouettes of two men.

Were there, then, really only two on board?

We stole softly back to where the ravines rose toward the woods

above. Several niches in the rocks were at hand. Wells and I crouched

down in one, my two assistants in another. If the men on the "Terror"

landed, they could not see us; but we could see them, and would be

able to act as opportunity offered.

There were some slight noises from the boat, a few words exchanged in

our own language. It was evident that the vessel was preparing to

anchor. Then almost instantly, a rope was thrown out, exactly on the

point of the quay where we had stood.

Leaning forward, Wells could discern that the rope was seized by one

of the mariners, who had leaped ashore. Then we heard a

grappling-iron scrape along the ground.

Some moments later, steps crunched upon the sand. Two men came up the

ravine, and went onward toward the edge of the woods, guiding their

steps by a ship lantern.

Where were they going? Was Black Rock Creek a regular hiding place of

the "Terror?" Had her commander a depot here for stores or

provisions? Did they come here to restock their craft, when the whim

of their wild voyaging brought them to this part of the continent?

Did they know this deserted, uninhabited spot so well, that they had

no fear of ever being discovered here?

"What shall we do?" whispered Wells.

"Wait till they return, and then--" My words were cut short by a

surprise. The men were not thirty feet from us, when, one of them

chancing to turn suddenly, the light of their lantern fell full upon

his face.

He was one of the two men who had watched before my house in Long

Street! I could not be mistaken! I recognized him as positively as my

old servant had done. It was he; it was assuredly one of the spies of

whom I had never been able to find any further traces! There was no

longer any doubt, my warning letter had come from them. It was

therefore from the "Master of the World"; it had been written from

the "Terror" and this was the "Terror."  Once more I asked myself what

could be the connection between this machine and the Great Eyrie!

In whispered words, I told Wells of my discovery. His only comment

was, "It is all incomprehensible!"

Meanwhile the two men had continued on their way to the woods, and

were gathering sticks beneath the trees. "What if they discover our

encampment?" murmured Wells.

"No danger, if they do not go beyond the nearest trees."

"But if they do discover it?"

"They will hurry back to their boat, and we shall be able to cut off

their retreat."

Toward the creek, where their craft lay, there was no further sound.

I left my hiding-place; I descended the ravine to the quay; I stood

on the very spot where the grappling-iron was fast among the rocks.

The "Terror" lay there, quiet at the end of its cable. Not a light

was on board; not a person visible, either on the deck, or on the

bank. Was not this my opportunity? Should I leap on board and there

await the return of the two men?

"Mr. Strock!" It was Wells, who called to me softly from close at

hand.

I drew back in all haste and crouched down beside him. Was it too

late to take possession of the boat? Or would the attempt perhaps

result in disaster from the presence of others watching on board?

At any rate, the two men with the lantern were close at hand

returning down the ravine. Plainly they suspected nothing. Each

carrying a bundle of wood, they came forward and stopped upon the

quay.

Then one of them raised his voice, though not loudly. "Hullo!

Captain!"

"All right," answered a voice from the boat.

Wells murmured in my ear, "There are three!"

"Perhaps four," I answered, "perhaps five or six!"

The situation grew more complicated. Against a crew so numerous, what

ought we to do? The least imprudence might cost us dear! Now that the

two men had returned, would they re-embark with their faggots? Then

would the boat leave the creek, or would it remain anchored until

day? If it withdrew, would it not be lost to us? It could leave the

waters of Lake Erie, and cross any of the neighboring states by land;

or it could retrace its road by the Detroit River which would lead it

to Lake Huron and the Great Lakes above. Would such an opportunity as

this, in the narrow waters of Black Rock Creek, ever occur again!

"At least," said I to Wells, "we are four. They do not expect attack;

they will be surprised. The result is in the hands of Providence."

I was about to call our two men, when Wells again seized my arm.

"Listen!" said he.

One of the men hailed the boat, and it drew close up to the rocks. We

heard the Captain say to the two men ashore, "Everything is all

right, up there?"

"Everything, Captain."

"There are still two bundles of wood left there?"

"Two."

"Then one more trip will bring them all on board the 'Terror.'"

The "Terror!"  It WAS she!

"Yes; just one more trip," answered one of the men.

"Good; then we will start off again at daybreak."

Were there then but three of them on board? The Captain, this Master

of the World, and these two men?

Evidently they planned to take aboard the last of their wood. Then

they would withdraw within their machine, and go to sleep. Would not

that be the time to surprise them, before they could defend

themselves?

Rather than to attempt to reach and capture the ship in face of this

resolute Captain who was guarding it, Wells and I agreed that it was

better to let his men return unassailed, and wait till they were all

asleep.

It was now half an hour after ten. Steps were once more heard upon

the shore. The man with a lantern and his companion, again remounted

the ravine toward the woods. When they were safely beyond hearing,

Wells went to warn our men, while I stole forward again to the very

edge of the water.

The "Terror" lay at the end of a short cable. As well as I could

judge, she was long and slim, shaped like a spindle, without chimney,

without masts, without rigging, such a shape as had been described

when she was seen on the coast of New England.

I returned to my place, with my men in the shelter of the ravine; and

we looked to our revolvers, which might well prove of service.

Five minutes had passed since the men reached the woods, and we

expected their return at any moment. After that, we must wait at

least an hour before we made our attack; so that both the Captain and

his comrades might be deep in sleep. It was important that they

should have not a moment either to send their craft darting out upon

the waters of Lake Erie, or to plunge it beneath the waves where we

would have been entrapped with it.

In all my career I have never felt such impatience. It seemed to me

that the two men must have been detained in the woods. Something had

barred their return.

Suddenly a loud noise was heard, the tumult of run-away horses,

galloping furiously along the shore!

They were our own, which, frightened, and perhaps neglected by the

driver, had broken away from the clearing, and now came rushing along

the bank.

At the same moment, the two men reappeared, and this time they were

running with all speed. Doubtless they had discovered our encampment,

and had at once suspected that there were police hidden in the woods.

They realized that they were watched, they were followed, they would

be seized. So they dashed recklessly down the ravine, and after

loosening the cable, they would doubtless endeavor to leap aboard.

The "Terror" would disappear with the speed of a meteor, and our

attempt would be wholly defeated!

"Forward," I cried. And we scrambled down the sides of the ravine to

cut off the retreat of the two men.

They saw us and, on the instant, throwing down their bundles, fired

at us with revolvers, hitting John Hart in the leg.

We fired in our turn, but less successfully. The men neither fell nor

faltered in their course. Reaching the edge of the creek, without

stopping to unloose the cable, they plunged overboard, and in a

moment were clinging to the deck of the "Terror."

Their captain, springing forward, revolver in hand, fired. The ball

grazed Wells.

Nab Walker and I seizing the cable, pulled the black mass of the boat

toward shore. Could they cut the rope in time to escape us?

Suddenly the grappling-iron was torn violently from the rocks. One of

its hooks caught in my belt, while Walker was knocked down by the

flying cable. I was entangled by the iron and the rope and dragged

forward--

The "Terror," driven by all the power of her engines, made a single

bound and darted out across Black Rock Creek.

Chapter 13 - ON BOARD THE TERROR

When I came to my senses it was daylight. A half light pierced the

thick glass port-hole of the narrow cabin wherein someone had placed

me--how many hours ago, I could not say! Yet it seemed to me

by the slanting rays, that the sun could not be very far

above the horizon.

I was resting in a narrow bunk with coverings over me. My clothes,

hanging in a corner, had been dried. My belt, torn in half by the

hook of the iron, lay on the floor.

I felt no wound nor injury, only a little weakness. If I had lost

consciousness, I was sure it had not been from a blow. My head must

have been drawn beneath the water, when I was tangled in the cable. I

should have been suffocated, if someone had not dragged me from the

lake.

Now, was I on board the "Terror?" And was I alone with the Captain

and his two men? This seemed probable, almost certain. The whole

scene of our encounter rose before my eyes, Hart lying wounded upon

the bank; Wells firing shot after shot, Walker hurled down at the

instant when the grappling hook caught my belt! And my companions? On

their side, must not they think that I had perished in the waters of

Lake Erie?

Where was the "Terror" now, and how was it navigating? Was it moving

as an automobile? Speeding across the roads of some neighboring

State? If so, and if I had been unconscious for many hours, the

machine with its tremendous powers must be already far away. Or, on

the other hand, were we, as a submarine, following some course

beneath the lake?

No, the "Terror" was moving upon some broad liquid surface. The

sunlight, penetrating my cabin, showed that the window was not

submerged. On the other hand, I felt none of the jolting that the

automobile must have suffered even on the smoothest highway. Hence

the "Terror" was not traveling upon land.

As to deciding whether she was still traversing Lake Erie, that was

another matter. Had not the Captain reascended the Detroit River, and

entered Lake Huron, or even Lake Superior beyond? It was difficult to

say.

At any rate I decided to go up on deck. From there I might be able to

judge. Dragging myself somewhat heavily from the bunk, I reached for

my clothes and dressed, though without much energy. Was I not

probably locked within this cabin?

The only exit seemed by a ladder and hatchway above my head. The

hatch rose readily to my hand, and I ascended half way on deck.

My first care was to look forward, backward, and on both sides of the

speeding "Terror."  Everywhere a vast expanse of waves! Not a shore in

sight! Nothing but the horizon formed by sea and sky!

Whether it was a lake or the ocean I could easily settle. As we shot

forward at such speed the water cut by the bow, rose furiously upward

on either side, and the spray lashed savagely against me.

I tasted it. It was fresh water, and very probably that of Lake Erie.

The sun was but midway toward the zenith so it could scarcely be more

than seven or eight hours since the moment when the "Terror" had

darted from Black Rock Creek.

This must therefore be the following morning, that of the

thirty-first of July.

Considering that Lake Erie is two hundred and twenty miles long, and

over fifty wide, there was no reason to be surprised that I could see

no land, neither that of the United States to the southeast nor of

Canada to the northwest.

At this moment there were two men on the deck, one being at the bow

on the look-out, the other in the stern, keeping the course to the

northeast, as I judged by the position of the sun. The one at the bow

was he whom I had recognized as he ascended the ravine at Black Rock.

The second was his companion who had carried the lantern. I looked in

vain for the one whom they had called Captain. He was not in sight.

It will be readily appreciated how eager was my desire to stand in

the presence of the creator of this prodigious machines of this

fantastic personage who occupied and preoccupied the attention of all

the world, the daring inventor who did not fear to engage in battle

against the entire human race, and who proclaimed himself "Master of

the World."

I approached the man on the look-out, and after a minute of silence I

asked him, "Where is the Captain?"

He looked at me through half-closed eyes. He seemed not to understand

me. Yet I knew, having heard him the night before, that he spoke

English. Moreover, I noticed that he did not appear surprised to see

me out of my cabin. Turning his back upon me, he continued to search

the horizon.

I stepped then toward the stern, determined to ask the same question

about the Captain. But when I approached the steersman, he waved me

away with his hand, and I obtained no other response.

It only remained for me to study this craft, from which we had been

repelled with revolver shots, when we had seized upon its anchor rope.

I therefore set leisurely to work to examine the construction of this

machine, which was carrying me--whither? The deck and the upper works

were all made of some metal which I did not recognize. In the center

of the deck, a scuttle half raised covered the room where the engines

were working regularly and almost silently. As I had seen before,

neither masts, nor rigging! Not even a flagstaff at the stern! Toward

the bow there arose the top of a periscope by which the "Terror"

could be guided when beneath the water.

On the sides were folded back two sort of outshoots resembling the

gangways on certain Dutch boats. Of these I could not understand the

use.

In the bow there rose a third hatch-way which presumably covered the

quarters occupied by the two men when the "Terror" was at rest.

At the stern a similar hatch gave access probably to the cabin of the

captain, who remained unseen. When these different hatches were shut

down, they had a sort of rubber covering which closed them

hermetically tight, so that the water could not reach the interior

when the boat plunged beneath the ocean.

As to the motor, which imparted such prodigious speed to the machine,

I could see nothing of it, nor of the propeller. However, the fast

speeding boat left behind it only a long, smooth wake. The extreme

fineness of the lines of the craft, caused it to make scarcely any

waves, and enabled it to ride lightly over the crest of the billows

even in a rough sea.

As was already known, the power by which the machine was driven, was

neither steam nor gasoline, nor any of those similar liquids so well

known by their odor, which are usually employed for automobiles and

submarines. No doubt the power here used was electricity, generated

on board, at some high power. Naturally I asked myself whence comes

this electricity, from piles, or from accumulators? But how were

these piles or accumulators charged? Unless, indeed, the electricity

was drawn directly from the surrounding air or from the water, by

processes hitherto unknown. And I asked myself with intense eagerness

if in the present situation, I might be able to discover these

secrets.

Then I thought of my companions, left behind on the shore of Black

Rock Creek. One of them, I knew, was wounded; perhaps the others were

also. Having seen me dragged overboard by the hawser, could they

possibly suppose that I had been rescued by the "Terror?"  Surely not!

Doubtless the news of my death had already been telegraphed to Mr.

Ward from Toledo. And now who would dare to undertake a new campaign

against this "Master of the World"?

These thoughts occupied my mind as I awaited the captain's appearance

on the deck. He did not appear.

I soon began to feel very hungry; for I must have fasted now nearly

twenty-four hours. I had eaten nothing since our hasty meal in the

woods, even if that had been the night before. And judging by the

pangs which now assailed my stomach, I began to wonder if I had not

been snatched on board the "Terror" two days before,--or even more.

Happily the question if they meant to feed me, and how they meant to

feed me, was solved at once. The man at the bow left his post,

descended, and reappeared. Then, without saying a word, he placed

some food before me and returned to his place. Some potted meat,

dried fish, sea-biscuit, and a pot of ale so strong that I had to mix

it with water, such was the meal to which I did full justice. My

fellow travelers had doubtless eaten before I came out of the cabin,

and they did not join me.

There was nothing further to attract my eyes, and I sank again into

thought. How would this adventure finish? Would I see this invisible

captain at length, and would he restore me to liberty? Could I regain

it in spite of him? That would depend on circumstances! But if the

"Terror" kept thus far away from the shore, or if she traveled

beneath the water, how could I escape from her? Unless we landed, and

the machine became an automobile, must I not abandon all hope of

escape?

Moreover--why should I not admit it?--to escape without having

learned anything of the "Terror's" secrets would not have contented

me at all. Although I could not thus far flatter myself upon the

success of my campaign, and though I had come within a hairbreadth of

losing my life and though the future promised far more of evil than

of good, yet after all, a step forward had been attained. To be sure,

if I was never to be able to re-enter into communication with the

world, if, like this Master of the World who had voluntarily placed

himself outside the law, I was now placed outside humanity, then the

fact that I had reached the "Terror" would have little value.

The craft continued headed to the northeast, following the longer

axis of Lake Erie. She was advancing at only half speed; for, had she

been doing her best, she must some hours before have reached the

northeastern extremity of the lake.

At this end Lake Erie has no other outlet than the Niagara River, by

which it empties into Lake Ontario. Now, this river is barred by the

famous cataract some fifteen miles beyond the important city of

Buffalo. Since the "Terror" had not retreated by the Detroit River,

down which she had descended from the upper lakes, how was she to

escape from these waters, unless indeed she crossed by land?

The sun passed the meridian. The day was beautiful; warm but not

unpleasantly so, thanks to the breeze made by our passage. The shores

of the lake continued invisible on both the Canadian and the American

side.

Was the captain determined not to show himself? Had he some reason

for remaining unknown? Such a precaution would indicate that he

intended to set me at liberty in the evening, when the "Terror" could

approach the shore unseen.

Toward two o'clock, however, I heard a slight noise; the central

hatchway was raised. The man I had so impatiently awaited appeared on

deck.

I must admit he paid no more attention to me, than his men had done.

Going to the stern, he took the helm. The man whom he had relieved,

after a few words in a low tone, left the deck, descending by the

forward hatchway. The captain, having scanned the horizon, consulted

the compass, and slightly altered our course. The speed of the

"Terror" increased.

This man, so interesting both to me and to the world, must have been

some years over fifty. He was of middle height, with powerful

shoulders still very erect; a strong head, with thick hair rather

gray than white, smooth shaven cheeks, and a short, crisp beard. His

chest was broad, his jaw prominent, and he had that characteristic

sign of tremendous energy, bushy eyebrows drawn sharply together.

Assuredly he possessed a constitution of iron, splendid health, and

warm red blood beneath his sun burned skin.

Like his companions the captain was dressed in sea-clothes covered by

an oil-skin coat, and with a woolen cap which could be pulled down to

cover his head entirely, when he so desired.

Need I add that the captain of the "Terror" was the other of the two

men, who had watched my house in Long street. Moreover, if I

recognized him, he also must recognize me as chief-inspector Strock,

to whom had been assigned the task of penetrating the Great Eyrie.

I looked at him curiously. On his part, while he did not seek to

avoid my eyes, he showed at least a singular indifference to the fact

that he had a stranger on board.

As I watched him, the idea came to me, a suggestion which I had not

connected with the first view of him in Washington, that I had

already seen this characteristic figure. Was it in one of the

photographs held in the police department, or was it merely a picture

in some shop window? But the remembrance was very vague. Perhaps I

merely imagined it.

Well, though his companions had not had the politeness to answer me,

perhaps he would be more courteous. He spoke the same language as I,

although I could not feel quite positive that he was of American

birth. He might indeed have decided to pretend not to understand me,

so as to avoid all discussion while he held me prisoner.

In that case, what did he mean to do with me? Did he intend to

dispose of me without further ceremony? Was he only waiting for night

to throw me overboard? Did even the little which I knew of him, make

me a danger of which he must rid himself? But in that case, he might

better have left me at the end of his anchor line. That would have

saved him the necessity of drowning me over again.

I turned, I walked to the stern, I stopped full in front of him.

Then, at length, he fixed full upon me a glance that burned like a

flame.

"Are you the captain?" I asked.

He was silent.

"This boat! Is it really the 'Terror?'"

To this question also there was no response. Then I reached toward

him; I would have taken hold of his arm.

He repelled me without violence, but with a movement that suggested

tremendous restrained power.

Planting myself again before him, I demanded in a louder tone, "What

do you mean to do with me?"

Words seemed almost ready to burst from his lips, which he compressed

with visible irritation. As though to check his speech he turned his

head aside. His hand touched a regulator of some sort, and the

machine rapidly increased its speed.

Anger almost mastered me. I wanted to cry out "So be it! Keep your

silence! I know who you are, just as I know your machine, recognized

at Madison, at Boston, at Lake Kirdall. Yes; it is you, who have

rushed so recklessly over our roads, our seas and our lakes! Your

boat is the 'Terror' and you her commander, wrote that letter to the

government. It is you who fancy you can fight the entire world. You,

who call yourself the Master of the World!"

And how could he have denied it! I saw at that moment the famous

initials inscribed upon the helm!

Fortunately I restrained myself; and despairing of getting any

response to my questions, I returned to my seat near the hatchway of

my cabin.

For long hours, I patiently watched the horizon in the hope that land

would soon appear. Yes, I sat waiting! For I was reduced to that!

Waiting! No doubt, before the day closed, the "Terror" must reach the

end of Lake Erie, since she continued her course steadily to the

northeast.

Chapter 14 - NIAGARA

The hours passed, and the situation did not change. The steersman

returned on deck, and the captain, descending, watched the movement

of the engines. Even when our speed increased, these engines

continued working without noise, and with remarkable smoothness There

was never one of those inevitable breaks, with which in most motors

the pistons sometimes miss a stroke. I concluded that the "Terror,"

in each of its transformations must be worked by rotary engines. But

I could not assure myself of this.

For the rest, our direction did not change. Always we headed toward

the northeast end of the lake, and hence toward Buffalo.

Why, I wondered, did the captain persist in following this route? He

could not intend to stop at Buffalo, in the midst of a crowd of boats

and shipping of every kind. If he meant to leave the lake by water,

there was only the Niagara River to follow; and its Falls would be

impassable, even to such a machine as this. The only escape was by

the Detroit River, and the "Terror" was constantly leaving that

farther behind.

Then another idea occurred to me. Perhaps the captain was only

waiting for night to return to the shore of the lake. There, the

boat, changed to an automobile, would quickly cross the neighboring

States. If I did not succeed in making my escape, during this passage

across the land, all hope of regaining my liberty would be gone.

True, I might learn where this Master of the World hid himself. I

might learn what no one had yet been able to discover, assuming

always that he did not dispose of me at one time or another--and what

I expected his "disposal" would be, is easily comprehended.

I knew the northeast end of Lake Erie well, having often visited that

section of New York State which extends westward from Albany to

Buffalo. Three years before, a police mission had led me to explore

carefully the shores of the Niagara River, both above and below the

cataract and its Suspension Bridge. I had visited the two principal

islands between Buffalo and the little city of Niagara Falls, I had

explored Navy Island and also Goat Island, which separates the

American falls from those of the Canadian side.

Thus if an opportunity for flight presented itself, I should not find

myself in an unknown district. But would this chance offer? And at

heart, did I desire it, or would I seize upon it? What secrets still

remained in this affair in which good fortune or was it evil

fortune--had so closely entangled me!

On the other hand, I saw no real reason to suppose that there was any

chance of my reaching the shores of the Niagara River. The "Terror"

would surely not venture into this trap which had no exit. Probably

she would not even go to the extremity of the lake.

Such were the thoughts that spun through my excited brain, while my

eyes remained fixed upon the empty horizon.

And always one persistent question remained insolvable. Why had the

captain written to me personally that threatening letter? Why had he

spied upon me in Washington? What bond attached him to the Great

Eyrie? There might indeed be subterranean canals which gave him

passage to Lake Kirdall, but could he pierce the impenetrable

fortress of the Eyrie? No! That was beyond him!

Toward four o'clock in the afternoon, reckoning by the speed of the

"Terror" and her direction, I knew we must be approaching Buffalo;

and indeed, its outlines began to show some fifteen miles ahead.

During our passage, a few boats had been seen, but we had passed them

at a long distance, a distance which our captain could easily keep as

great as he pleased. Moreover, the "Terror" lay so low upon the

water, that at even a mile away it would have been difficult to

discover her.

Now, however, the hills encircling the end of Lake Erie, came within

vision, beyond Buffalo, forming the sort of funnel by which Lake Erie

pours its waters into the channel of the Niagara river. Some dunes

rose on the right, groups of trees stood out here and there. In the

distance, several freight steamers and fishing smacks appeared. The

sky became spotted with trails of smoke, which were swept along by a

light eastern breeze.

What was our captain thinking of in still heading toward the port of

Buffalo! Did not prudence forbid him to venture further? At each

moment, I expected that he would give a sweep of the helm and turn

away toward the western shore of the lake. Or else, I thought, he

would prepare to plunge beneath the surface. But this persistence in

holding our bow toward Buffalo was impossible to understand!

At length the helmsman, whose eyes were watching the northeastern

shore, made a sign to his companion. The latter, leaving the bow,

went to the central hatchway, and descended into the engine room.

Almost immediately the captain came on deck, and joining the

helmsman, spoke with him in a low voice.

The latter, extending his hand toward Buffalo, pointed out two black

spots, which showed five or six miles distant on the starboard side.

The captain studied them attentively. Then shrugging his shoulders,

he seated himself at the stern without altering the course of the

"Terror."

A quarter of an hour later, I could see plainly that there were two

smoke clouds at the point they had studied so carefully. Little by

little the black spots beneath these became more defined. They were

two long, low steamers, which, coming from the port of Buffalo, were

approaching rapidly.

Suddenly it struck me that these were the two torpedo destroyers of

which Mr. Ward had spoken, and which I had been told to summon in

case of need.

These destroyers were of the newest type, the swiftest boats yet

constructed in the country. Driven by powerful engines of the latest

make, they had covered almost thirty miles an hour. It is true, the

"Terror" commanded an even greater speed, and always, if she were

surrounded so that flight was impossible, she could submerge herself

out of reach of all pursuit. In truth, the destroyers would have had

to be submarines to attack the "Terror" with any chance of success.

And I know not, if even in that case, the contest would have been

equal.

Meanwhile, it seemed to me evident that the commanders of the two

ships had been warned, perhaps by Mr. Wells who, returning swiftly to

Toledo, might have telegraphed to them the news of our defeat. It

appeared, moreover, that they had seen the "Terror," for they were

headed at full speed toward her. Yet our captain, seemingly giving

them no thought whatever, continued his course toward the Niagara

River.

What would the torpedo destroyers do? Presumably, they would maneuver

so as to seek to shut the "Terror" within the narrowing end of the

lake where the Niagara offered her no passage.

Our captain now took the helm. One of the men was at the bow, the

other in the engine room. Would the order be given for me to go down

into the cabin?

It was not, to my extreme satisfaction. To speak frankly, no one paid

any attention to me. It was as if I had not been on board. I watched,

therefore, not without mixed emotions, the approach of the

destroyers. Less than two miles distant now they separated in such a

way as to hold the "Terror" between their fires.

As to the Master of the World, his manner indicated only the most

profound disdain. He seemed sure that these destroyers were powerless

against him. With a touch to his machinery he could distance them, no

matter what their speed! With a few turns of her engine, the "Terror"

would dart beyond their cannon shots! Or, in the depths of the lake,

what projectiles could find the submarine?

Five minutes later, scarcely a mile separated us from the two

powerful fighters which pursued us. Our captain permitted them to

approach still closer. Then he pressed upon a handle. The "Terror,"

doubling the action of her propellers, leaped across the surface of

the lake. She played with the destroyers! Instead of turning in

flight, she continued her forward course. Who knew if she would not

even have the audacity to pass between her two enemies, to coax them

after her, until the hour when, as night closed in, they would be

forced to abandon the useless pursuit!

The city of Buffalo was now in plain view on the border of the lake.

I saw its huge buildings, its church towers, its grain elevators.

Only four or five miles ahead, Niagara river opened to the northward.

Under these new conditions which way should I turn? When we passed in

front of the destroyers, or perhaps between them, should I not throw

myself into the waters I was a good swimmer, and such a chance might

never occur again. The captain could not stop to recapture me. By

diving could I not easily escape, even from a bullet? I should surely

be seen by one or other of the pursuers. Perhaps, even, their

commanders had been warned of my presence on board the "Terror."

Would not a boat be sent to rescue me?

Evidently my chance of success would be even greater, if the "Terror"

entered the narrow waters of Niagara River. At Navy Island I would be

able to set foot on territory that I knew well. But to suppose that

our captain would rush into this river where he might be swept over

the great cataract! That seemed impossible! I resolved to await the

destroyers' closest approach and at the last moment I would decide.

Yet my resolution to escape was but half-hearted. I could not resign

myself thus to lose all chance of following up this mystery. My

instincts as a police official revolted. I had but to reach out my

hand in order to seize this man who had been outlawed! Should I let

him escape me! No! I would not save myself! Yet, on the other hand,

what fate awaited me, and where would I be carried by the "Terror,"

if I remained on board?

It was a quarter past six. The destroyers, quivering and trembling

under the strain of their speed, gained on us perceptibly. They were

now directly astern, leaving between them a distance of twelve or

fifteen cable lengths. The "Terror," without increasing her speed,

saw one of them approach on the port side, the other to starboard.

I did not leave my place. The man at the bow was close by me.

Immovable at the helm, his eyes burning beneath his contracted brows,

the captain waited. He meant, perhaps, to finish the chase by one

last maneuver.

Suddenly, a puff of smoke rose from the destroyer on our left. A

projectile, brushing the surface of the water, passed in front of the

"Terror," and sped beyond the destroyer on our right.

I glanced around anxiously. Standing by my side, the lookout seemed

to await a sign from the captain. As for him, he did not even turn

his head; and I shall never forget the expression of disdain

imprinted on his visage.

At this moment, I was pushed suddenly toward the hatchway of my

cabin, which was fastened above me. At the same instant the other

hatchways were closed; the deck became watertight. I heard a single

throb of the machinery, and the plunge was made, the submarine

disappeared beneath the waters of the lake.

Cannon shot still boomed above us. Their heavy echo reached my ear;

then everything was peace. Only a faint light penetrated through the

porthole into my cabin. The submarine, without the least rolling or

pitching, sped silently through the deeps.

I had seen with what rapidity, and also with what ease the

transformation of the "Terror" had been made. No less easy and rapid,

perhaps, would be her change to an automobile.

And now what would this Master of the World do? Presumably he would

change his course, unless, indeed, he preferred to speed to land, and

there continue his route along the roads. It still seemed more

probable, however, that he would turn back toward the west, and after

distancing the destroyers, regain the Detroit River. Our submersion

would probably only last long enough to escape out of cannon range,

or until night forbade pursuit.

Fate, however, had decreed a different ending to this exciting chase.

Scarce ten minutes had passed when there seemed some confusion on

board. I heard rapid words exchanged in the engine room. The steadily

moving machinery became noisy and irregular. At once I suspected that

some accident compelled the submarine to reascend.

I was not mistaken. In a moment, the semi-obscurity of my cabin was

pierced by sunshine. The "Terror" had risen above water. I heard

steps on the deck, and the hatchways were re-opened, including mine.

I sprang up the ladder.

The captain had resumed his place at the helm, while the two men were

busy below. I looked to see if the destroyers were still in view.

Yes! Only a quarter of a mile away! The "Terror" had already been

seen, and the powerful vessels which enforced the mandates of our

government were swinging into position to give chase. Once more the

"Terror" sped in the direction of Niagara River.

I must confess, I could make nothing of this maneuver. Plunging into

a cul-de-sac, no longer able to seek the depths because of the

accident, the "Terror" might, indeed, temporarily distance her

pursuers; but she must find her path barred by them when she

attempted to return. Did she intend to land, and if so, could she

hope to outrun the telegrams which would warn every police agency of

her approach?

We were now not half a mile ahead. The destroyers pursued us at top

speed, though being now directly behind, they were in poor position

for using their guns. Our captain seemed content to keep this

distance; though it would have been easy for him to increase it, and

then at nightfall, to dodge back behind the enemy.

Already Buffalo had disappeared on our right, and a little after

seven o'clock the opening of the Niagara River appeared ahead. If he

entered there, knowing that he could not return, our captain must

have lost his mind! And in truth was he not insane, this man who

proclaimed himself, who believed himself, Master of the World?

I watched him there, calm, impassive not even turning his head to

note the progress of the destroyers and I wondered at him.

This end of the lake was absolutely deserted. Freight steamers bound

for the towns on the banks of the upper Niagara are not numerous, as

its navigation is dangerous. Not one was in sight. Not even a

fishing-boat crossed the path of the "Terror." Even the two

destroyers would soon be obliged to pause in their pursuit, if we

continued our mad rush through these dangerous waters.

I have said that the Niagara River flows between New York and Canada.

Its width, of about three quarters of a mile, narrows as it

approaches the falls. Its length, from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, is

about fifteen leagues. It flows in a northerly direction, until it

empties the waters of Lake Superior, Michigan, Huron, and Erie into

Ontario, the last lake of this mighty chain. The celebrated falls,

which occur in the midst of this great river have a height of over a

hundred and fifty feet. They are called sometimes the Horse-shoe

Falls, because they curve inward like the iron shoe. The Indians have

given them the name of "Thunder of Waters," and in truth a mighty

thunder roars from them without cessation, and with a tumult which is

heard for several miles away.

Between Lake Erie, and the little city of Niagara Falls, two islands

divide the current of the river, Navy Island, a league above the

cataract, and Goat Island, which separates the American and the

Canadian Falls. Indeed, on the lower point of this latter isle stood

once that "Terrapin Tower" so daringly built in the midst of the

plunging waters on the very edge of the abyss. It has been destroyed;

for the constant wearing away of the stone beneath the cataract makes

the ledge move with the ages slowly up the river, and the tower has

been drawn into the gulf.

The town of Fort Erie stands on the Canadian shore at the entrance of

the river. Two other towns are set along the banks above the falls,

Schlosser on the right bank, and Chippewa on the left, located on

either side of Navy Island. It is at this point that the current,

bound within a narrower channel, begins to move at tremendous speed,

to become two miles further on, the celebrated cataract.

The "Terror" had already passed Fort Erie. The sun in the west

touched the edge of the Canadian horizon, and the moon, faintly seen,

rose above the mists of the south. Darkness would not envelop us for

another hour.

The destroyers, with huge clouds of smoke streaming from their

funnels, followed us a mile behind. They sped between banks green

with shade trees and dotted with cottages which lay among lovely

gardens.

Obviously the "Terror" could no longer turn back. The destroyers shut

her in completely. It is true their commanders did not know, as I

did, that an accident to her machinery had forced her to the surface,

and that it was impossible for her to escape them by another plunge.

Nevertheless, they continued to follow, and would assuredly maintain

their pursuit to the very last.

I marveled at the intrepidity of their chase through these dangerous

waters. I marveled still more at the conduct of our captain. Within a

half hour now, his course would be barred by the cataract. No matter

how perfect his machine, it could not escape the power of the great

falls. If the current once mastered our engines, we should inevitably

disappear in the gulf nearly two hundred feet deep which the waters

have dug at the base of the falls! Perhaps, however, our captain had

still power to turn to one of the shores and flee by the automobile

routes.

In the midst of this excitement, what action should I take

personally? Should I attempt to gain the shores of Navy Island, if we

indeed advanced that far? If I did not seize this chance, never after

what I had learned of his secrets, never would the Master of the

World restore me to liberty.

I suspected, however, that my flight was no longer possible. If I was

not confined within my cabin, I no longer remained unwatched. While

the captain retained his place at the helm, his assistant by my side

never removed his eyes from me. At the first movement, I should be

seized and locked within my room. For the present, my fate was

evidently bound up with that of the "Terror."

The distance which separated us from the two destroyers was now

growing rapidly less. Soon they were but a few cable-lengths away.

Could the motor of the "Terror," since the accident, no longer hold

its speeds? Yet the captain showed not the least anxiety, and made no

effort to reach land!

We could hear the hissing of the steam which escaped from the valves

of the destroyers, to mingle with the streamers of black smoke. But

we heard, even more plainly, the roar of the cataract, now less than

three miles away.

The "Terror" took the left branch of the river in passing Navy

Island. At this point, she was within easy reach of the shore, yet

she shot ahead. Five minutes later, we could see the first trees of

Goat Island. The current became more and more irresistible. If the

"Terror" did not stop, the destroyers could not much longer follow

her. If it pleased our accursed captain to plunge us into the vortex

of the falls, surely they did not mean to follow into the abyss!

Indeed, at this moment they signaled each other, and stopped the

pursuit. They were scarce more than six hundred feet from the

cataract. Then their thunders burst on the air and several cannon

shot swept over the "Terror" without hitting its low-lying deck.

The sun had set, and through the twilight the moon's rays shone upon

us from the south. The speed of our craft, doubled by the speed of

the current, was prodigious! In another moment, we should plunge into

that black hollow which forms the very center of the Canadian Falls.

With an eye of horror, I saw the shores of Goat Island flashed by,

then came the Isles of the Three Sisters, drowned in the spray from

the abyss.

I sprang up; I started to throw myself into the water, in the

desperate hope of gaining this last refuge. One of the men seized me

from behind.

Suddenly a sharp noise was heard from the mechanism which throbbed

within our craft. The long gangways folded back on the sides of the

machine, spread out like wings, and at the moment when the "Terror"

reached the very edge of the falls, she arose into space, escaping

from the thundering cataract in the center of a lunar rainbow.

Chapter 15 - THE EAGLE'S NEST

On the morrow, when I awoke after a sound sleep, our vehicle seemed

motionless. It seemed to me evident that we were not running upon

land. Yet neither were we rushing through or beneath the waters; nor

yet soaring across the sky. Had the inventor regained that mysterious

hiding-place of his, where no human being had ever set foot before

him?

And now, since he had not disembarrassed himself of my presence, was

his secret about to be revealed to me?

It seemed astonishing that I had slept so profoundly during most of

our voyage through the air. It puzzled me and I asked if this sleep

had not been caused by some drug, mixed with my last meal, the

captain of the "Terror" having wished thus to prevent me from knowing

the place where we landed. All that I can recall of the previous

night is the terrible impression made upon me by that moment when the

machine, instead of being caught in the vortex of the cataract rose

under the impulse of its machinery like a bird with its huge wings

beating with tremendous power!

So this machine actually fulfilled a four-fold use! It was at the

same time automobile, boat, submarine, and airship. Earth, sea and

air,--it could move through all three elements! And with what

power! With what speed! Al few instants sufficed to complete its

marvelous transformations. The same engine drove it along all its

courses! And I had been a witness of its metamorphoses! But that of

which I was still ignorant, and which I could perhaps discover, was

the source of the energy which drove the machine, and above all, who

was the inspired inventor who, after having created it, in every

detail, guided it with so much ability and audacity!

At the moment when the "Terror" rose above the Canadian Falls, I was

held down against the hatchway of my cabin. The clear, moonlit

evening had permitted me to note the direction taken by the air-ship.

It followed the course of the river and passed the Suspension Bridge

three miles below the falls. It is here that the irresistible rapids

of the Niagara River begin, where the river bends sharply to descend

toward Lake Ontario.

On leaving this point, I was sure that we had turned toward the east.

The captain continued at the helm. I had not addressed a word to him.

What good would it do? He would not have answered. I noted that the

"Terror" seemed to be guided in its course through the air with

surprising ease. Assuredly the roads of the air were as familiar to

it as those of the seas and of the lands!

In the presence of such results, could one not understand the

enormous pride of this man who proclaimed himself Master of the

World? Was he not in control of a machine infinitely superior to any

that had ever sprung from the hand of man, and against which men were

powerless? In truth, why should he sell this marvel? Why should he

accept the millions offered him? Yes, I comprehended now that

absolute confidence in himself which was expressed in his every

attitude. And where might not his ambition carry him, if by its own

excess it mounted some day into madness!

A half hour after the "Terror" soared into the air, I had sunk into

complete unconsciousness, without realizing its approach. I repeat,

it must have been caused by some drug. Without doubt, our commander

did not wish me to know the road he followed.

Hence I cannot say whether the aviator continued his flight through

space, or whether the mariner sailed the surface of some sea or lake,

or the chauffeur sped across the American roads. No recollection

remains with me of what passed during that night of July thirty-first.

Now, what was to follow from this adventure? And especially

concerning myself, what would be its end?

I have said that at the moment when I awoke from my strange sleep,

the "Terror" seemed to me completely motionless. I could hardly be

mistaken; whatever had been her method of progress, I should have

felt some movement, even in the air. I lay in my berth in the cabin,

where I had been shut in without knowing it, just as I had been on

the preceding night which I had passed on board the "Terror" on Lake

Erie.

My business now was to learn if I would be allowed to go on deck here

where the machine had landed. I attempted to raise the hatchway. It

was fastened.

"Ah!" said I, "am I to be kept here until the 'Terror' recommences

its travels?" Was not that, indeed, the only time when escape was

hopeless?

My impatience and anxiety may be appreciated. I knew not how long

this halt might continue.

I had not a quarter of an hour to wait. A noise of bars being removed

came to my ear. The hatchway was raised from above. A wave of light

and air penetrated my cabin.

With one bound I reached the deck. My eyes in an instant swept round

the horizon.

The "Terror," as I had thought, rested quiet on the ground. She was

in the midst of a rocky hollow measuring from fifteen to eighteen

hundred feet in circumference. A floor of yellow gravel carpeted its

entire extent, unrelieved by a single tuft of herbage.

This hollow formed an almost regular oval, with its longer diameter

extending north and south. As to the surrounding-wall, what was its

height, what the character of its crest, I could not judge. Above us

was gathered a fog so heavy, that the rays of the sun had not yet

pierced it. Heavy trails of cloud drifted across the sandy floor,

Doubtless the morning was still young, and this mist might later be

dissolved.

It was quite cold here, although this was the first day of August. I

concluded therefore that we must be far in the north, or else high

above sea-level. We must still be somewhere on the New Continent;

though where, it was impossible to surmise. Yet no matter how rapid

our flight had been, the air-ship could not have traversed either

ocean in the dozen hours since our departure from Niagara.

At this moment, I saw the captain come from an opening in the rocks,

probably a grotto, at the base of this cliff hidden in the fog.

Occasionally, in the mists above, appeared the shadows of huge birds.

Their raucous cries were the sole interruption to the profound

silence. Who knows if they were not affrighted by the arrival of this

formidable, winged monster, which they could not match either in

might or speed.

Everything led me to believe that it was here that the Master of the

World withdrew in the intervals between his prodigious journeys. Here

was the garage of his automobile; the harbor of his boat; the hangar

of his air-ship.

And now the "Terror" stood motionless at the bottom of this hollow.

At last I could examine her; and it looked as if her owners had no

intention of preventing me. The truth is that the commander seemed to

take no more notice of my presence than before. His two companions

joined him, and the three did not hesitate to enter together into the

grotto I had seen. What a chance to study the machine, at least its

exterior! As to its inner parts, probably I should never get beyond

conjecture.

In fact, except for that of my cabin, the hatchways were closed; and

it would be vain for me to attempt to open them. At any rate, it

might be more interesting to find out what kind of propeller drove

the "Terror" in these many transformations.

I jumped to the ground and found I was left at leisure, to proceed

with this first examination.

The machine was as I have said spindle-shaped. The bow was sharper

than the stern. The body was of aluminium, the wings of a substance

whose nature I could not determine. The body rested on four wheels,

about two feet in diameter. These had pneumatic tires so thick as to

assure ease of movement at any speed. Their spokes spread out like

paddles or battledores; and when the "Terror" moved either on or

under the water, they must have increased her pace.

These wheels were not however, the principal propeller. This

consisted of two "Parsons" turbines placed on either side of the

keel. Driven with extreme rapidity by the engine, they urged the boat

onward in the water by twin screws, and I even questioned if they

were not powerful enough to propel the machine through the air.

The chief aerial support, however, was that of the great wings, now

again in repose, and folded back along the sides. Thus the theory of

the "heavier than air" flying machine was employed by the inventor, a

system which enabled him to dart through space with a speed probably

superior to that of the largest birds.

As to the agent which set in action these various mechanisms, I

repeat, it was, it could be, no other than electricity. But from what

source did his batteries get their power? Had he somewhere an

electric factory, to which he must return? Were the dynamos, perhaps

working in one of the caverns of this hollow?

The result of my examination was that, while I could see that the

machine used wheels and turbine screws and wings, I knew nothing of

either its engine, nor of the force which drove it. To be sure, the

discovery of this secret would be of little value to me. To employ it

I must first be free. And after what I knew--little as that really

was--the Master of the World would never release me.

There remained, it is true, the chance of escape. But would an

opportunity ever present itself? If there could be none during the

voyages of the "Terror," might there possibly be, while we remained

in this retreat?

The first question to be solved was the location of this hollow. What

communication did it have with the surrounding region? Could one only

depart from it by a flying-machine? And in what part of the United

States were we? Was it not reasonable to estimate, that our flight

through the darkness had covered several hundred leagues?

There was one very natural hypothesis which deserved to be

considered, if not actually accepted. What more natural harbor could

there be for the "Terror" than the Great Eyrie? Was it too difficult

a flight for our aviator to reach the summit? Could he not soar

anywhere that the vultures and the eagles could? Did not that

inaccessible Eyrie offer to the Master of the World just such a

retreat as our police had been unable to discover, one in which he

might well believe himself safe from all attacks? Moreover, the

distance between Niagara Falls and this part of the Blueridge

Mountains, did not exceed four hundred and fifty miles, a flight

which would have been easy for the "Terror."

Yes, this idea more and more took possession of me. It crowded out a

hundred other unsupported suggestions. Did not this explain the

nature of the bond which existed between the Great Eyrie and the

letter which I had received with our commander's initials? And the

threats against me if I renewed the ascent! And the espionage to

which I had been subjected! And all the phenomena of which the Great

Eyrie had been the theater, were they not to be attributed to this

same cause--though what lay behind the phenomena was not yet clear?

Yes, the Great Eyrie! The Great Eyrie!

But since it had been impossible for me to penetrate here, would it

not be equally impossible for me to get out again, except upon the

"Terror?"  Ah, if the mists would but lift! Perhaps I should recognize

the place. What was as yet a mere hypothesis, would become a starting

point to act upon.

However, since I had freedom to move about, since neither the captain

nor his men paid any heed to me, I resolved to explore the hollow.

The three of them were all in the grotto toward the north end of the

oval. Therefore I would commence my inspection at the southern end.

Reaching the rocky wall, I skirted along its base and found it broken

by many crevices; above, arose more solid rocks of that feldspar of

which the chain of the Alleghanies largely consists. To what height

the rock wall rose, or what was the character of its summit, was

still impossible to see. I must wait until the sun had scattered the

mists.

In the meantime, I continued to follow along the base of the cliff.

None of its cavities seemed to extend inward to any distance. Several

of them contained debris from the hand of man, bits of broken wood,

heaps of dried grasses. On the ground were still to be seen the

footprints that the captain and his men must have left, perhaps

months before, upon the sand.

My jailers, being doubtless very busy in their cabin, did not show

themselves until they had arranged and packed several large bundles.

Did they purpose to carry those on board the "Terror?"  And were they

packing up with the intention of permanently leaving their retreat?

In half an hour my explorations were completed and I returned toward

the center. Here and there were heaped up piles of ashes, bleached by

weather. There were fragments of burned planks and beams; posts to

which clung rusted iron-work; armatures of metal twisted by fire; all

the remnants of some intricate mechanism destroyed by the flames.

Clearly at some period not very remote the hollow had been the scene

of a conflagration, accidental or intentional. Naturally I connected

this with the phenomena observed at the Great Eyrie, the flames which

rose above the crest, the noises which had so frightened the people

of Pleasant Garden and Morganton. But of what mechanisms were these

the fragments, and what reason had our captain for destroying them?

At this moment I felt a breath of air; a breeze came from the east.

The sky swiftly cleared. The hollow was filled with light from the

rays of the sun which appeared midway between the horizon and the

zenith.

A cry escaped me! The crest of the rocky wall rose a hundred feet

above me. And on the eastern side was revealed that easily

recognizable pinnacle, the rock like a mounting eagle. It was the

same that had held the attention of Mr. Elias Smith and myself, when

we had looked up at it from the outer side of the Great Eyrie.

Thus there was no further doubt. In its flight during the night the

airship had covered the distance between Lake Erie and North

Carolina. It was in the depth of this Eyrie that the machine had

found shelter! This was the nest, worthy of the gigantic and powerful

bird created by the genius of our captain! The fortress whose mighty

walls none but he could scale! Perhaps even, he had discovered in the

depths of some cavern, some subterranean passage by which he himself

could quit the Great Eyrie, leaving the "Terror" safely sheltered

within.

At last I saw it all! This explained the first letter sent me from

the Great Eyrie itself with the threat of death. If we had been able

to penetrate into this hollow, who knows if the secrets of the Master

of the World might not have been discovered before he had been able

to set them beyond our reach?

I stood there, motionless; my eyes fixed on that mounting eagle of

stone, prey to a sudden, violent emotion. Whatsoever might be the

consequences to myself, was it not my duty to destroy this machine,

here and now, before it could resume its menacing flight of mastery

across the world!

Steps approached behind me. I turned. The inventor stood by my side,

and pausing looked me in the face.

I was unable to restrain myself; the words burst forth--"The Great

Eyrie! The Great Eyrie!"

"Yes, Inspector Strock."

"And you! You are the Master of the World?"

"Of that world to which I have already proved myself to be the most

powerful of men."

"You!" I reiterated, stupefied with amazement.

"I," responded he, drawing himself up in all his pride, "I,

Robur--Robur, the Conqueror!"

Chapter 16 - ROBUR, THE CONQUEROR

Robur, the Conqueror! This then was the likeness I had vaguely

recalled. Some years before the portrait of this extraordinary man

had been printed in all the American newspapers, under date of the

thirteenth of June, the day after this personage had made his

sensational appearance at the meeting of the Weldon Institute at

Philadelphia.

I had noted the striking character of the portrait at the time; the

square shoulders; the back like a regular trapezoid, its longer side

formed by that geometrical shoulder line; the robust neck; the

enormous spheroidal head. The eyes at the least emotion, burned with

fire, while above them were the heavy, permanently contracted brows,

which signified such energy. The hair was short and crisp, with a

glitter as of metal in its lights. The huge breast rose and fell like

a blacksmith's forge; and the thighs, the arms and hands, were worthy

of the mighty body. The narrow beard was the same also, with the

smooth shaven cheeks which showed the powerful muscles of the jaw.

And this was Robur the Conqueror, who now stood before me, who

revealed himself to me, hurling forth his name like a threat, within

his own impenetrable fortress!

Let me recall briefly the facts which had previously drawn upon Robur

the Conqueror the attention of the entire world. The Weldon Institute

was a club devoted to aeronautics under the presidency of one of the

chief personages of Philadelphia, commonly called Uncle Prudent. Its

secretary was Mr. Phillip Evans. The members of the Institute were

devoted to the theory of the "lighter than air" machine; and under

their two leaders were constructing an enormous dirigible balloon,

the "Go-Ahead."

At a meeting in which they were discussing the details of the

construction of their balloon, this unknown Robur had suddenly

appeared and, ridiculing all their plans, had insisted that the only

true solution of flight lay with the heavier than air machines, and

that he had proven this by constructing one.

He was in this turn doubted and ridiculed by the members of the club,

who called him in mockery Robur the Conqueror. In the tumult that

followed, revolver shots were fired; and the intruder disappeared.

That same night he had by force abducted the president and the

secretary of the club, and had taken them, much against their will

upon a voyage in the wonderful air-ship, the "Albatross," which he

had constructed. He meant thus to prove to them beyond argument the

correctness of his assertions. This ship, a hundred feet long, was

upheld in the air by a large number of horizontal screws and was

driven forward by vertical screws at its bow and stern. It was

managed by a crew of at least half a dozen men, who seemed absolutely

devoted to their leader, Robur.

After a voyage almost completely around the world, Mr. Prudent and

Mr. Evans managed to escape from the "Albatross" after a desperate

struggle. They even managed to cause an explosion on the airship,

destroying it, and involving the inventor and all his crew in a

terrific fall from the sky into the Pacific ocean.

Mr. Prudent and Mr. Evans then returned to Philadelphia. They had

learned that the "Albatross" had been constructed on an unknown isle

of the Pacific called Island X; but since the location of this

hiding-place was wholly unknown, its discovery lay scarcely within

the bounds of possibility. Moreover, the search seemed entirely

unnecessary, as the vengeful prisoners were quite certain that they

had destroyed their jailers.

Hence the two millionaires, restored to their homes, went calmly on

with the construction of their own machine, the "Go-Ahead."  They

hoped by means of it to soar once more into the regions they had

traversed with Robur, and to prove to themselves that their lighter

than air machine was at least the equal of the heavy "Albatross." If

they had not persisted, they would not have been true Americans.

On the twentieth of April in the following year the "Go-Ahead" was

finished and the ascent was made, from Fairmount Park in

Philadelphia. I myself was there with thousands of other spectators.

We saw the huge balloon rise gracefully; and, thanks to its powerful

screws, it maneuvered in every direction with surprising ease.

Suddenly a cry was heard, a cry repeated from a thousand throats.

Another airship had appeared in the distant skies and it now

approached with marvelous rapidity. It was another "Albatross,"

perhaps even superior to the first. Robur and his men had escaped

death in the Pacific; and, burning for revenge, they had constructed

a second airship in their secret Island X.

Like a gigantic bird of prey, the "Albatross" hurled itself upon the

"Go-Ahead."  Doubtless, Robur, while avenging himself wished also to

prove the immeasurable superiority of the heavier than air machines.

Mr. Prudent and Mr. Evans defended themselves as best they could.

Knowing that their balloon had nothing like the horizontal speed of

the "Albatross," they attempted to take advantage of their superior

lightness and rise above her. The "Go-Ahead," throwing out all her

ballast, soared to a height of over twenty thousand feet. Yet even

there the "Albatross" rose above her, and circled round her with ease.

Suddenly an explosion was heard. The enormous gas-bag of the

"Go-Ahead," expanding under the dilation of its contents at this

great height, had finally burst.

Half-emptied, the balloon fell rapidly.

Then to our universal astonishment, the "Albatross" shot down after

her rival, not to finish the work of destruction but to bring rescue.

Yes! Robur, forgetting his vengeance, rejoined the sinking

"Go-Ahead," and his men lifted Mr. Prudent, Mr. Evans, and the

aeronaut who accompanied them, onto the platform of his craft. Then

the balloon, being at length entirely empty, fell to its destruction

among the trees of Fairmount Park.

The public was overwhelmed with astonishment, with fear! Now that

Robur had recaptured his prisoners, how would he avenge himself?

Would they be carried away, this time, forever?

The "Albatross" continued to descend, as if to land in the clearing

at Fairmount Park. But if it came within reach, would not the

infuriated crowd throw themselves upon the airship, tearing both it

and its inventor to pieces?

The "Albatross" descended within six feet of the ground. I remember

well the general movement forward with which the crowd threatened to

attack it. Then Robur's voice rang out in words which even now I can

repeat almost as he said them:

"Citizens of the United States, the president and the secretary of

the Weldon Institute are again in my power. In holding them prisoners

I would but be exercising my natural right of reprisal for the

injuries they have done me. But the passion and resentment which have

been roused both in them and you by the success of the 'Albatross,'

show that the souls of men are not yet ready for the vast increase of

power which the conquest of the air will bring to them. Uncle

Prudent, Phillip Evans, you are free."

The three men rescued from the balloon leaped to the ground. The

airship rose some thirty feet out of reach, and Robur recommenced:

"Citizens of the United States, the conquest of the air is made; but

it shall not be given into your hands until the proper time. I leave,

and I carry my secret with me. It will not be lost to humanity, but

shall be entrusted to them when they have learned not to abuse it.

Farewell, Citizens of the United States!"

Then the "Albatross" rose under the impulse of its mighty screws, and

sped away amidst the hurrahs of the multitude.

I have ventured to remind my readers of this last scene somewhat in

detail, because it seemed to reveal the state of mind of the

remarkable personage who now stood before me. Apparently he had not

then been animated by sentiments hostile to humanity. He was content

to await the future; though his attitude undeniably revealed the

immeasurable confidence which he had in his own genius, the immense

pride which his almost superhuman powers had aroused within him.

It was not astonishing, moreover, that this haughtiness had little by

little been aggravated to such a degree that he now presumed to

enslave the entire world, as his public letter had suggested by its

significant threats. His vehement mind had with time been roused to

such over-excitement that he might easily be driven into the most

violent excesses.

As to what had happened in the years since the last departure of the

"Albatross," I could only partly reconstruct this even with my

present knowledge. It had not sufficed the prodigious inventor to

create a flying machine, perfect as that was! He had planned to

construct a machine which could conquer all the elements at once.

Probably in the workshops of Island X, a selected body of devoted

workmen had constructed, one by one, the pieces of this marvelous

machine, with its quadruple transformation. Then the second

"Albatross" must have carried these pieces to the Great Eyrie, where

they had been put together, within easier access of the world of men

than the far-off island had permitted. The "Albatross" itself had

apparently been destroyed, whether by accident or design, within the

eyrie. The "Terror" had then made its appearance on the roads of the

United States and in the neighboring waters. And I have told under

what conditions, after having been vainly pursued across Lake Erie,

this remarkable masterpiece had risen through the air carrying me a

prisoner on board.

Chapter 17 - IN THE NAME OF THE LAW

What was to be the issue of this remarkable adventure? Could I bring

it to any denouement whatever, either sooner or later? Did not Robur

hold the results wholly in his own hands? Probably I would never have

such an opportunity for escape as had occurred to Mr. Prudent and Mr.

Evans amid the islands of the Pacific. I could only wait. And how

long might the waiting last!

To be sure, my curiosity had been partly satisfied. But even now I

knew only the answer to the problems of the Great Eyrie. Having at

length penetrated its circle, I comprehended all the phenomena

observed by the people of the Blueridge Mountains. I was assured that

neither the country-folk throughout the region, nor the townfolk of

Pleasant Garden and Morganton were in danger of volcanic eruptions or

earthquakes. No subterranean forces whatever were battling within the

bowels of the mountains. No crater had arisen in this corner of the

Alleghanies. The Great Eyrie served merely as the retreat of Robur

the Conqueror. This impenetrable hiding-place where he stored his

materials and provisions, had without doubt been discovered by him

during one of his aerial voyages in the "Albatross."  It was a retreat

probably even more secure than that as yet undiscovered Island X in

the Pacific.

This much I knew of him; but of this marvelous machine of his, of the

secrets of its construction and propelling force, what did I really

know? Admitting that this multiple mechanism was driven by

electricity, and that this electricity was, as we knew it had been in

the "Albatross," extracted directly from the surrounding air by some

new process, what were the details of its mechanism? I had not been

permitted to see the engine; doubtless I should never see it.

On the question of my liberty I argued thus: Robur evidently intends

to remain unknown. As to what he intends to do with his machine, I

fear, recalling his letter, that the world must expect from it more

of evil than of good. At any rate, the incognito which he has so

carefully guarded in the past he must mean to preserve in the future.

Now only one man can establish the identity of the Master of the

World with Robur the Conqueror. This man is I his prisoner, I who

have the right to arrest him, I, who ought to put my hand on his

shoulder, saying, "In the Name of the Law--"

On the other hand, could I hope for a rescue from with out? Evidently

not. The police authorities must know everything that had happened at

Black Rock Creek. Mr. Ward, advised of all the incidents, would have

reasoned on the matter as follows: when the "Terror" quitted the

creek dragging me at the end of her hawser, I had either been drowned

or, since my body had not been recovered, I had been taken on board

the "Terror," and was in the hands of its commander.

In the first case, there was nothing more to do than to write

"deceased" after the name of John Strock, chief inspector of the

federal police in Washington.

In the second case, could my confreres hope ever to see me again? The

two destroyers which had pursued the "Terror" into the Niagara River

had stopped, perforce, when the current threatened to drag them over

the falls. At that moment, night was closing in, and what could be

thought on board the destroyers but that the "Terror" had been

engulfed in the abyss of the cataract? It was scarce possible that

our machine had been seen when, amid the shades of night, it rose

above the Horseshoe Falls, or when it winged its way high above the

mountains on its route to the Great Eyrie.

With regard to my own fate, should I resolve to question Robur? Would

he consent even to appear to hear me? Was he not content with having

hurled at me his name? Would not that name seem to him to answer

everything?

That day wore away without bringing the least change to the

situation. Robur and his men continued actively at work upon the

machine, which apparently needed considerable repair. I concluded

that they meant to start forth again very shortly, and to take me

with them. It would, however, have been quite possible to leave me at

the bottom of the Eyrie. There would have been no way by which I

could have escaped, and there were provisions at hand sufficient to

keep me alive for many days.

What I studied particularly during this period was the mental state

of Robur. He seemed to me under the dominance of a continuous

excitement. What was it that his ever-seething brain now meditated?

What projects was he forming for the future? Toward what region would

he now turn? Would he put in execution the menaces expressed in his

letter--the menaces of a madman!

The night of that first day, I slept on a couch of dry grass in one

of the grottoes of the Great Eyrie. Food was set for me in this

grotto each succeeding day. On the second and third of August, the

three men continued at their work scarcely once, however, exchanging

any words, even in the midst of their labors. When the engines were

all repaired to Robur's satisfaction, the men began putting stores

aboard their craft, as if expecting a long absence. Perhaps the

"Terror" was about to traverse immense distances; perhaps even, the

captain intended to regain his Island X, in the midst of the Pacific.

Sometimes I saw him wander about the Eyrie buried in thought, or he

would stop and raise his arm toward heaven as if in defiance of that

God with Whom he assumed to divide the empire of the world. Was not

his overweening pride leading him toward insanity? An insanity which

his two companions, hardly less excited than he, could do nothing to

subdue! Had he not come to regard himself as mightier than the

elements which he had so audaciously defied even when he possessed

only an airship, the "Albatross?"  And now, how much more powerful had

he become, when earth, air and water combined to offer him an

infinite field where none might follow him!

Hence I had much to fear from the future, even the most dread

catastrophes. It was impossible for me to escape from the Great

Eyrie, before being dragged into a new voyage. After that, how could

I possibly get away while the "Terror" sped through the air or the

ocean? My only chance must be when she crossed the land, and did so

at some moderate speed. Surely a distant and feeble hope to cling to!

It will be recalled that after our arrival at the Great Eyrie, I had

attempted to obtain some response from Robur, as to his purpose with

me; but I had failed. On this last day I made another attempt.

In the afternoon I walked up and down before the large grotto where

my captors were at work. Robur, standing at the entrance, followed me

steadily with his eyes. Did he mean to address me?

I went up to him. "Captain," said I, "I have already asked you a

question, which you have not answered. I ask it again: What do you

intend to do with me?"

We stood face to face scarce two steps apart. With arms folded, he

glared at me, and I was terrified by his glance. Terrified, that is

the word! The glance was not that of a sane man. Indeed, it seemed to

reflect nothing whatever of humanity within.

I repeated my question in a more challenging tone. For an instant I

thought that Robur would break his silence and burst forth.

"What do you intend to do with me? Will you set me free?"

Evidently my captor's mind was obsessed by some other thought, from

which I had only distracted him for a moment. He made again that

gesture which I had already observed; he raised one defiant arm

toward the zenith. It seemed to me as if some irresistible force drew

him toward those upper zones of the sky, that he belonged no more to

the earth, that he was destined to live in space; a perpetual dweller

in the clouds.

Without answering me, without seeming to have understood me, Robur

reentered the grotto.

How long this sojourn or rather relaxation of the "Terror" in the

Great Eyrie was to last, I did not know. I saw, however, on the

afternoon of this third of August that the repairs and the

embarkation of stores were completed. The hold and lockers of our

craft must have been completely crowded with the provisions taken

from the grottoes of the Eyrie.

Then the chief of the two assistants, a man whom I now recognized as

that John Turner who had been mate of the "Albatross," began another

labor. With the help of his companion, he dragged to the center of

the hollow all that remained of their materials, empty cases,

fragments of carpentry, peculiar pieces of wood which clearly must

have belonged to the "Albatross," which had been sacrificed to this

new and mightier engine of locomotion. Beneath this mass there lay a

great quantity of dried grasses. The thought came to me that Robur

was preparing to leave this retreat forever!

In fact, he could not be ignorant that the attention of the public

was now keenly fixed upon the Great Eyrie; and that some further

attempt was likely to be made to penetrate it. Must he not fear that

some day or other the effort would be successful, and that men would

end by invading his hiding-place? Did he not wish that they should

find there no single evidence of his occupation?

The sun disappeared behind the crests of the Blueridge. His rays now

lighted only the very summit of Black Dome towering in the northwest.

Probably the "Terror" awaited only the night in order to begin her

flight. The world did not yet know that the automobile and boat could

also transform itself into a flying machine. Until now, it had never

been seen in the air. And would not this fourth transformation be

carefully concealed, until the day when the Master of the World chose

to put into execution his insensate menaces?

Toward nine o'clock profound obscurity enwrapped the hollow. Not a

star looked down on us. Heavy clouds driven by a keen eastern wind

covered the entire sky. The passage of the "Terror" would be

invisible, not only in our immediate neighborhood, but probably

across all the American territory and even the adjoining seas.

At this moment Turner, approaching the huge stack in the middle of

the eyrie, set fire to the grass beneath.

The whole mass flared up at once. From the midst of a dense smoke,

the roaring flames rose to a height which towered above the walls of

the Great Eyrie. Once more the good folk of Morganton and Pleasant

Garden would believe that the crater had reopened. These flames would

announce to them another volcanic upheaval.

I watched the conflagration. I heard the roarings and cracklings

which filled the air. From the deck of the "Terror," Robur watched it

also.

Turner and his companion pushed back into the fire the fragments

which the violence of the flames cast forth. Little by little the

huge bonfire grew less. The flames sank down into a mere mass of

burnt-out ashes; and once more all was silence and blackest night.

Suddenly I felt myself seized by the arm. Turner drew me toward the

"Terror."  Resistance would have been useless. And moreover what could

be worse than to be abandoned without resources in this prison whose

walls I could not climb!

As soon as I set foot on the deck, Turner also embarked. His

companion went forward to the look-out; Turner climbed down into the

engine-room, lighted by electric bulbs, from which not a gleam

escaped outside.

Robur himself was at the helm, the regulator within reach of his

hand, so that he could control both our speed and our direction. As

to me, I was forced to descend into my cabin, and the hatchway was

fastened above me. During that night, as on that of our departure

from Niagara, I was not allowed to watch the movements of the

"Terror."

Nevertheless, if I could see nothing of what was passing on board, I

could hear the noises of the machinery. I had first the feeling that

our craft, its bow slightly raised, lost contact with the earth. Some

swerves and balancings in the air followed. Then the turbines

underneath spun with prodigious rapidity, while the great wings beat

with steady regularity.

Thus the "Terror," probably forever, had left the Great Eyrie, and

launched into the air as a ship launches into the waters. Our captain

soared above the double chain of the Alleghanies, and without doubt

he would remain in the upper zones of the air until he had left all

the mountain region behind.

But in what direction would he turn? Would he pass in flight across

the plains of North Carolina, seeking the Atlantic Ocean? Or would he

head to the west to reach the Pacific? Perhaps he would seek, to the

south, the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. When day came how should I

recognize which sea we were upon, if the horizon of water and sky

encircled us on every side?

Several hours passed; and how long they seemed to me! I made no

effort to find forgetfulness in sleep. Wild and incoherent thoughts

assailed me. I felt myself swept over worlds of imagination, as I was

swept through space, by an aerial monster. At the speed which the

"Terror" possessed, whither might I not be carried during this

interminable night? I recalled the unbelievable voyage of the

"Albatross," of which the Weldon Institute had published an account,

as described by Mr. Prudent and Mr. Evans. What Robur, the Conqueror,

had done with his first airship, he could do even more readily with

this quadruple machine.

At length the first rays of daylight brightened my cabin. Would I be

permitted to go out now, to take my place upon the deck, as I had

done upon Lake Erie?

I pushed upon the hatchway: it opened. I came half way out upon the

deck.

All about was sky and sea. We floated in the air above an ocean, at a

height which I judged to be about a thousand or twelve hundred feet.

I could not see Robur, so he was probably in the engine room. Turner

was at the helm, his companion on the look-out.

Now that I was upon the deck, I saw what I had not been able to see

during our former nocturnal voyage, the action of those powerful

wings which beat upon either side at the same time that the screws

spun beneath the flanks of the machine.

By the position of the sun, as it slowly mounted from the horizon, I

realized that we were advancing toward the south. Hence if this

direction had not been changed during the night this was the Gulf of

Mexico which lay beneath us.

A hot day was announced by the heavy livid clouds which clung to the

horizon. These warnings of a coming storm did not escape the eye of

Robur when toward eight o'clock he came on deck and took Turner's

place at the helm. Perhaps the cloud-bank recalled to him the

waterspout in which the "Albatross" had so nearly been destroyed, or

the mighty cyclone from which he had escaped only as if by a miracle

above the Antarctic Sea.

It is true that the forces of Nature which had been too strong for

the "Albatross," might easily be evaded by this lighter and more

versatile machine. It could abandon the sky where the elements were

in battle and descend to the surface of the sea; and if the waves

beat against it there too heavily, it could always find calm in the

tranquil depths.

Doubtless, however, there were some signs by which Robur, who must be

experienced in judging, decided that the storm would not burst until

the next day.

He continued his flight; and in the afternoon, when we settled down

upon the surface of the sea, there was not a sign of bad weather. The

"Terror" is a sea bird, an albatross or frigate-bird, which can rest

at will upon the waves! Only we have this advantage, that fatigue has

never any hold upon this metal organism, driven by the inexhaustible

electricity!

The whole vast ocean around us was empty. Not a sail nor a trail of

smoke was visible even on the limits of the horizon. Hence our

passage through the clouds had not been seen and signaled ahead.

The afternoon was not marked by any incident. The "Terror" advanced

at easy speed. What her captain intended to do, I could not guess. If

he continued in this direction, we should reach some one of the West

Indies, or beyond that, at the end of the Gulf, the shore of

Venezuela or Colombia. But when night came, perhaps we would again

rise in the air to clear the mountainous barrier of Guatemala and

Nicaragua, and take flight toward Island X, somewhere in the unknown

regions of the Pacific.

Evening came. The sun sank in an horizon red as blood. The sea

glistened around the "Terror," which seemed to raise a shower of

sparks in its passage. There was a storm at hand. Evidently our

captain thought so. Instead of being allowed to remain on deck, I was

compelled to re-enter my cabin, and the hatchway was closed above me.

In a few moments from the noises that followed, I knew that the

machine was about to be submerged. In fact, five minutes later, we

were moving peacefully forward through the ocean's depths.

Thoroughly worn out, less by fatigue than by excitement and anxious

thought, I fell into a profound sleep, natural this time and not

provoked by any soporific drug. When I awoke, after a length of time

which I could not reckon, the "Terror" had not yet returned to the

surface of the sea.

This maneuver was executed a little later. The daylight pierced my

porthole; and at the same moment I felt the pitching and tossing to

which we were subjected by a heavy sea.

I was allowed to take my place once more outside the hatchway; where

my first thought was for the weather. A storm was approaching from

the northwest. Vivid lightning darted amid the dense, black clouds.

Already we could hear the rumbling of thunder echoing continuously

through space. I was surprised--more than surprised, frightened!--by

the rapidity with which the storm rushed upward toward the zenith.

Scarcely would a ship have had time to furl her sails to escape the

shock of the blast, before it was upon her! The advance was as swift

as it was terrible.

Suddenly the wind was unchained with unheard of violence, as if it

had suddenly burst from this prison of cloud. In an instant a

frightful sea uprose. The breaking waves, foaming along all their

crests, swept with their full weight over the "Terror."  If I had not

been wedged solidly against the rail, I should have been swept

overboard!

There was but one thing to do--to change our machine again into a

submarine. It would find security and calm at a few dozen feet

beneath the surface. To continue to brave the fury of this outrageous

sea was impossible.

Robur himself was on deck, and I awaited the order to return to my

cabin--an order which was not given. There was not even any

preparation for the plunge. With an eye more burning than ever,

impassive before this frightful storm, the captain looked it full in

the face, as if to defy it, knowing that he had nothing to fear.

It was imperative that the terror should plunge below without losing

a moment. Yet Robur seemed to have no thought of doing so. No! He

preserved his haughty attitude as of a man who in his immeasurable

pride, believed himself above or beyond humanity.

Seeing him thus I asked myself with almost superstitious awe, if he

were not indeed a demoniac being, escaped from some supernatural

world.

A cry leaped from his mouth, and was heard amid the shrieks of the

tempest and the howlings of the thunder. "I, Robur! Robur!--The

master of the world!"

He made a gesture which Turner and his companions understood. It was

a command; and without any hesitation these unhappy men, insane as

their master, obeyed it.

The great wings shot out, and the airship rose as it had risen above

the falls of Niagara. But if on that day it had escaped the might of

the cataract, this time it was amidst the might of the hurricane that

we attempted our insensate flight.

The air-ship soared upward into the heart of the sky, amid a thousand

lightning flashes, surrounded and shaken by the bursts of thunder. It

steered amid the blinding, darting lights, courting destruction at

every instant.

Robur's position and attitude did not change. With one hand on the

helm, the other on the speed regulators while the great wings beat

furiously, he headed his machine toward the very center of the storm,

where the electric flashes were leaping from cloud to cloud.

I must throw myself upon this madman to prevent him from driving his

machine into the very middle of this aerial furnace! I must compel

him to descend, to seek beneath the waters, a safety which was no

longer possible either upon the surface of the sea or in the sky!

Beneath, we could wait until this frightful outburst of the elements

was at an end!

Then amid this wild excitement my own passion, all my instincts of

duty, arose within me! Yes, this was madness! Yet must I not arrest

this criminal whom my country had outlawed, who threatened the entire

world with his terrible invention? Must I not put my hand on his

shoulder and summon him to surrender to justice! Was I or was I not

Strock, chief inspector of the federal police? Forgetting where I

was, one against three, uplifted in mid-sky above a howling ocean, I

leaped toward the stern, and in a voice which rose above the tempest,

I cried as I hurled myself upon Robur:

"In the name of the law, I--"

Suddenly the "Terror" trembled as if from a violent shock. All her

frame quivered, as the human frame quivers under the electric fluid.

Struck by the lightning in the very middle of her powerful batteries,

the air-ship spread out on all sides and went to pieces.

With her wings fallen, her screws broken, with bolt after bolt of the

lightning darting amid her ruins, the "Terror" fell from the height

of more than a thousand feet into the ocean beneath.

Chapter 18 - THE OLD HOUSEKEEPER'S LAST COMMENT

When I came to myself after having been unconscious for many hours, a

group of sailors whose care had restored me to life surrounded the

door of a cabin in which I lay. By my pillow sat an officer who

questioned me; and as my senses slowly returned, I answered to his

questioning.

I told them everything. Yes, everything! And assuredly my listeners

must have thought that they had upon their hands an unfortunate whose

reason had not returned with his consciousness.

I was on board the steamer Ottawa, in the Gulf of Mexico, headed for

the port of New Orleans. This ship, while flying before the same

terrific thunder-storm which destroyed the "Terror," had encountered

some wreckage, among whose fragments was entangled my helpless body.

Thus I found myself back among humankind once more, while Robur the

Conqueror and his two companions had ended their adventurous careers

in the waters of the Gulf. The Master of the World had disappeared

forever, struck down by those thunder-bolts which he had dared to

brave in the regions of their fullest power. He carried with him the

secret of his extraordinary machine.

Five days later the Ottawa sighted the shores of Louisiana; and on

the morning of the tenth of August she reached her port. After taking

a warm leave of my rescuers, I set out at once by train for

Washington, which more than once I had despaired of ever seeing again.

I went first of all to the bureau of police, meaning to make my

earliest appearance before Mr. Ward.

What was the surprise, the stupefaction, and also the joy of my

chief, when the door of his cabinet opened before me! Had he not

every reason to believe, from the report of my companions, that I had

perished in the waters of Lake Erie?

I informed him of all my experiences since I had disappeared, the

pursuit of the destroyers on the lake, the soaring of the "Terror"

from amid Niagara Falls, the halt within the crater of the Great

Eyrie, and the catastrophe, during the storm, above the Gulf of

Mexico.

He learned for the first time that the machine created by the genius

of this Robur, could traverse space, as it did the earth and the sea.

In truth, did not the possession of so complete and marvelous a

machine justify the name of Master of the World, which Robur had

taken to himself? Certain it is that the comfort and even the lives

of the public must have been forever in danger from him; and that all

methods of defence must have been feeble and ineffective.

But the pride which I had seen rising bit by bit within the heart of

this prodigious man had driven him to give equal battle to the most

terrible of all the elements. It was a miracle that I had escaped

safe and sound from that frightful catastrophe.

Mr. Ward could scarcely believe my story. "Well, my dear Strock,"

said he at last, "you have come back; and that is the main thing.

Next to this notorious Robur, you will be the man of the hour. I hope

that your head will not be turned with vanity, like that of this

crazy inventor!"

"No, Mr. Ward," I responded, "but you will agree with me that never

was inquisitive man put to greater straits to satisfy his curiosity."

"I agree, Strock; and the mysteries of the Great Eyrie, the

transformations of the "Terror," you have discovered them! But

unfortunately, the still greater secrets of this Master of the World

have perished with him."

The same evening the newspapers published an account of my

adventures, the truthfulness of which could not be doubted. Then, as

Mr. Ward had prophesied, I was the man of the hour.

One of the papers said, "Thanks to Inspector Strock the American

police still lead the world. While others have accomplished their

work, with more or less success, by land and by sea, the American

police hurl themselves in pursuit of criminals through the depths of

lakes and oceans and even through the sky."

Yet, in following, as I have told, in pursuit of the "Terror," had I

done anything more than by the close of the present century will have

become the regular duty of my successors?

It is easy to imagine what a welcome my old housekeeper gave me when

I entered my house in Long Street. When my apparition--does not the

word seem just--stood before her, I feared for a moment she would

drop dead, poor woman! Then, after hearing my story, with eyes

streaming with tears, she thanked Providence for having saved me from

so many perils.

"Now, sir," said she, "now--was I wrong?"

"Wrong? About what?"

"In saying that the Great Eyrie was the home of the devil?"

"Nonsense; this Robur was not the devil!"

"Ah, well!" replied the old woman, "he was worthy of being so!"