Part 4 (1/2)
It was answered by a young woman, in a plain gown of some dark stuff, with a white collar round the neck. In spite of her dress I could see that she was not an ordinary cottage girl. Pretty, without being beautiful, there was a distinction in her voice and manner which bespoke the gentlewoman. With a pleasant smile, she welcomed me as one who had been expected, and ushered me into a small sitting-room, poorly furnished, but with a taste and refinement unusual in a workman's home.
A large piano stood in one of the corners, and a pile of cla.s.sical music lay on a chair beside it. The mantelpiece was decorated with cut flowers, and the walls were hung with portraits and sketches in crayons and water-colour.
”My father will be down in a moment,” she said, with a slight American accent. ”He is delighted to have the pleasure of meeting you. It is so kind of you to come.”
Before I had time to respond, Mr. Carmichael entered the parlour. He was a man of striking and venerable presence. His long white locks, his bulging brow, pregnant with brain, his bushy eyebrows and deep blue-grey eyes, his aquiline nose and flowing beard, gave an Olympian cast to his n.o.ble head. Withal, I could not help noticing that his countenance was lined with care, his black coat seamed and threadbare, his hands rough and h.o.r.n.y, like those of a workman. If he appeared a G.o.d, it was a G.o.d in exile or disgrace; a Saturn rather than a Jove.
”Now to the matter,” said he, after a few words of kindly welcome.
”Evidently the question of inter-planetary travel is coming to the front. In your article you suggest that a locomotive car, that is to say, a car able to propel itself through what we, in our ignorance, call empty s.p.a.ce, though, in reality, it is chock-full, and very 'thrang' as the Scotch say, might yet be contrived, and even worked by energy drawn from the ether direct. When I read that, sir, I sat up and rubbed my eyes.”
”Your spectacles, father,” said Miss Carmichael.
”Well, it's the same thing,” went on the old man. ”For like many another prophet, sir, you had prophesied better than you knew.”
”How do you mean?” I inquired, with a puzzled air.
”If you will step with me into the garden I will show you.”
I rose and followed him into a large shed, which was fitted up as a workshop and laboratory. It contained several large benches, provided with turning lathes and tools, a quant.i.ty of chemicals, and scientific apparatus.
”I am going to do a thing that I have never done in my life before,”
said Mr. Carmichael, in a sad and doubtful tone; ”I have kept this secret so long that it seems like parting with myself to disclose it, to disclose even the existence of it. I have fed upon it as a young man feeds on love. It has been my nourishment, my manna in the wilderness of this world, my solace under a thousand trials, my inspiration from on High. I verily believe it has kept my old carcase together. Mind!” he added, with a penetrating glance of his grey eyes, which gleamed under their bushy brows like a pool of water in a cavern overhung with brambles, ”promise me that whatever you see and hear will remain a secret on your part. Never breathe a word of it to a living soul. You are the only person, except my own daughter, whom I have ever taken into my confidence.”
I gave him my word of honour.
”Very well,” he continued, lifting a small metal box from one of the tables, and patting it with his hand. ”I have been working at the subject of aerial navigation for well-nigh thirty years, and this is the result.”
I looked at the metal case, but could see nothing remarkable about it.
”It seems a little thing, hardly worth a few pence, and yet how much I have paid for it!” said the inventor, with a sigh, and a far-away expression in his eyes. ”Many a time it has reminded me of the mouse's nest that was turned up by the ploughshare.
”'Thy wee bit heap o' strae and stibble Has cost thee mony a weary nibble.'
Of course this is only a model.”
”A model of a flying machine?” I inquired, in a tone of surprise.
”You may call it so,” he answered; ”but it is a flying machine that does not fly or soar in the strict sense of the words, for it has neither wings nor aeroplane. It is, in fact, an aerial locomotive, as you will see.”
While he spoke, Mr. Carmichael opened the case of the instrument, and adjusted the mechanism inside. Immediately afterwards, to my astonishment, the box suddenly left his hands, and flew, or rather glided, swiftly through the air, and must have dashed itself against the wall of the laboratory had not its master run and caught it.
”Wonderful!” I exclaimed, forgetting the att.i.tude of caution and reserve which I had deemed it prudent to adopt.
The inventor laughed with childish glee, enjoying his triumph, and stroking the case as though it were a kitten.
”It would be off again if I would let it. Whoa, there!” said he, again adjusting the mechanism. ”I can make it rise, or sink, or steer, to one side or the other, just as I please. If you will kindly hold it for a minute, I will make it go up to the ceiling. Don't be afraid, it won't bite you.”
I took the uncanny little instrument in my hands, whilst Mr. Carmichael ascended a ladder to a kind of loft in the shed. It only weighed a few pounds, and yet I could feel it exerting a strong force to escape.
”Ready!” cried the inventor, ”now let go,” and sure enough, the box rose steadily upwards until it came within his grasp. ”I am going to send it down to you again,” he continued, and I expected to see it drop like a stone to the ground; but, strange to say, it circled gracefully through the air in a spiral curve, and landed gently at my feet.