But she called in vain. Turning for response, she saw, to her amazement and alarm, both men stretched on the floor, senseless! She ran to them and made every effort to rouse them,--they were breathing evenly and quietly as in profound and comfortable sleep--but it was beyond her skill to renew their consciousness. Then it flashed upon her that the "White Eagle" was no longer moving,--that it was, in fact, quite stationary,--and a quick rush of energy filled her as she realised that now she was as she had wished to be, alone with her air-ship to do with it as she would. All fear had left her,--her nerves were steady, and her daring spirit was fired with resolution. Whatever the mischance which had so swiftly overwhelmed Rivardi and Gaspard, she could not stop now to question, or determine it,--she was satisfied that they were not dead, or dying. She went to the steering-gear to take it in hand--but though the mysterious mechanism of the air-ship was silently and rapidly throbbing, the ship did not move. She grasped the propeller--it resisted her touch with hard and absolute inflexibility. All at once a low deep voice spoke close to her ear-"Do not try to steer. You cannot proceed."
Her heart gave one wild bound,--then almost stood still from sheer terror. She felt herself swaying into unconsciousness, and made a violent effort to master the physical weakness that threatened her. That voice--what voice? Surely one evoked from her own imagination! It spoke again--this time with an intonation that was exquisitely soothing and tender.
"Why are you afraid? For you there is nothing to fear!"
She raised her eyes and looked about nervously. The soft luminance which lit the "White Eagle's" interior from end to end showed nothing new or alarming,--her dainty, rose-lined cabin held no strange or supernatural visitant,--all was as usual. After a pause she rallied strength enough to question the audible but invisible intruder.
"Who is it that speaks to me?" she asked, faintly.
"One from the city below,"--was the instant reply given in full clear accents--"I am speaking on the Sound Ray."
She held her breath in mute wonder, listening. The voice went on, equably-"You know the use of wireless telephony--we have it as you have it, only your methods are imperfect. We speak on Sound Rays which are not yet discovered in your country. We need neither transmitter nor receiver. Wherever we send our messages, no matter how great the distance, they are always heard."