Essential Science Fiction Novels - Volume 6. Richard Jefferies

me for doing this.” She pointed to a flying-machine near by. “We must take the air; I have made all the arrangements. Winter Park is beyond the limits of the city.”

      He followed her across the grass to the machine and into the car. They could see the driver behind the glass of the narrow compartment in which he sat, and when he turned the polished metal wheel the machine rose like a liberated balloon.

      Thorndyke looked out of the window. The blue haze of the fifth hour of the morning was breaking over everything, and as the domes, pinnacles, and vari-colored roofs fell away in the beautiful light, the breast of the Englishman heaved with delightful emotions. Bernardino was watching his face with a gratified smile.

      “You like Alpha,” she said, half anxiously, half inquiringly.

      “Very much,” he replied; “but I want to show you the great world I came from;—and some day perhaps I can.”

      The blood ran into her cheeks suddenly, and then as quickly receded, leaving a wistful expression in her eyes. She sighed. “It has been my dream for a long time. I have always imagined that it is more wonderful than Alpha; but you know there is no chance for you to return now.”

      “I shall manage to escape some way and you shall go with me as my wife.”

      Her blushes came again. “I did not know that you cared that much for me,” she said. Then, as if to change the subject, she pointed through the window. “See, we are approaching the Park, and shall descend in a moment.”

      He looked out of the window and then drew his head in quickly.

      “We are coming down into a big lake!” he cried out. “Oh, no, it is only the glass roof of the park,” she laughed; “true, it does look like water in the sunlight.”

      The machine sank lower and finally rested on a plot of grass in a little square ornamented with beds of flowers and white statues. Thorndyke saw a seemingly endless wall, so high that he could not calculate its height. Bernardino preceded him in at a great arching door in the wall, and they found themselves in a stone-paved vestibule several hundred feet square.

      A maid servant came forward at once and brought heavy fur clothing for them and invited them into separate toilet rooms. When he came out Bernardino was waiting for him. He could hardly breathe, so thick were the furs he had put on.

      “It is warm here, but it will be colder in a moment,” said the princess. And she led him to a door across the room. When the door was opened, Thorndyke uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Before their eyes lay a wide expanse of snow-covered roads, woodlands and frozen lakes and streams. The air was as crisp and invigorating as a Canadian winter.

      Bernardino led him to a pavilion where a number of pleasure-seekers were gathered and selected a sleigh and two mettlesome horses. She took the reins from the man, and sprang lightly into the graceful cutter. Thorndyke followed her and wrapped the thick robes about her feet. Away they sped like the wind down the smooth road, through a leafless forest. Overhead the glass roof could not be seen, but a lowering gray cloud hung over them and a light snow was falling.

      “Winter Park is a great resort,” the princess explained; “we get tired of the unchanging climate, and it is pleasant to visit such a place as this. There is a winter park in every town of any size in Alpha.”

      They drove along the shore of a beautiful lake, on the frozen surface of which hundreds of skaters were darting here and there, and passed hillsides on which crowds of young people were coasting in sleds. When they had driven about ten miles in a circuitous route she turned the horses round.

      “We had better return,” she said; “you have not seen all of the Park, but we can visit it some other time.”

      Outside they found their flying-machine awaiting them, and were soon on the way back to the city. They parted at the fountain in the park, she hastening to the palace, and he turning to stroll through the little wood behind him.

      He was passing a thick bunch of trees when he was startled by hearing his name called. He turned round, but at first saw no one.

      “Thorndyke!” There it was again, and then he saw a hand beckoning to him from a hedge of ferns at his right. He stepped back a few paces; a man came out of the wood.

      It was Johnston, his face was white and haggard, his clothing rent and soiled.

      “My God, can it be you?” gasped the Englishman.

      “Nobody else,” groaned Johnston, cautiously advancing and laying a trembling hand on the arm of Thorndyke; “but don't talk loud, they will find me.”

      “Where did you come from?”

      Johnston pointed first to the east, and then swept his hand over the sky to the west.

      “Over the wall,” he said despondently. “From the dead lands behind the sun.”

      “How did you get back here?”

      For reply Johnston parted the fern leaves and pointed to the lank figure of the tall Alphian, who lay curled up on the grass as if asleep. “He brought me in that flying-machine there; but he has spent all his strength in trying to manage the thing, which was out of order, and now he is helpless. Twice we came within an inch of sinking down into the internal fires. The last time we escaped only by the breadth of a hair; if he had not had the endurance of a man of iron he would have succumbed to the heat and we would have been lost. We sank so far down that I became insensible and never knew a thing till the fresh air revived me. See, my beard and hair are singed, and look how he is blistered. Poor fellow! He is a hero.” Johnston stepped back and shook the Alphian, but the poor fellow's head only rolled to one side, showing his bloodshot eyes. He was insensible.

      “He is in a bad fix,” said Thorndyke; “where did he come from?”

      “Banished like myself; we met over there in the dark and roamed about together.”

      “What are you going to do?”

      “I don't know; I was following his lead. We will both be put to death if we are discovered.”

      “Did he not tell you his plan?”

      Johnston started visibly. “Oh, I forgot,” he exclaimed. “He declares that all this vast cavern is in danger. Over in the west we discovered a hole in the roof through which the ocean is streaming in a torrent. He calculated that before many hours the water would overflow into the internal fires and produce a volcanic eruption that will swallow up all of Alpha.”

      “Merciful Heaven! and you are hiding here at such a moment? The king must be informed at once.”

      Johnston had grown suddenly paler. “It may not be as bad as Branasko feared, and the king would have no mercy on me and him.”

      “Leave that to me,” said Thorndyke; “I have made a good friend of the Princess Bernardino. She will tell me what is best to do. Remain here.”

      In breathless haste, Thorndyke went into the audience chamber. Fortunately the king was not on his throne, and he caught sight of the confidential maid of the princess.

      She saw him approaching, and withdrew behind a cluster of tall white jars of porcelain containing rare plants.

      “I must see your mistress,” he said; “tell her to come to me at once; we are in great peril!”

      The girl swept her eyes over the balconies and the throne and said: “She is in her apartments, sir; I shall bring her.”

      “Tell her to meet me at the fountain where we last met,” and he hastened back to the spot mentioned.

      She soon came. “What is it?” she asked excitedly.

      “Johnston is back,” he replied. “He is in the wood there with a fellow who escaped with him in a disabled flying-machine. He says the sea has broken through over in the west and is streaming into Alpha in a torrent.”

      “Surely