THE HORNET
"By the way," said I, "where is Venus now?"
"Approaching superior conjunction," returned Henry; "she is lost in the sun's rays,"
"From there whither?" I asked.
"Over east of the sun, and evening star,"
'Going or coming then?"
"Coming, until inferior conjunction- that's when she is between the earth and the sun-when she passes back to the west of him and is morning star once more."
"Then," said I, "I suppose your plan of campaign will be something like this: you will meet the lady when she is in this inferior conjunction, as you call it- which, if I understand it aright, is when she is nearest the earth."
"Precisely," he nodded.
"Otherwise, you would be going out of your way to meet her, or would be chasing her around."
"Just so. And she goes twenty-two miles a second."
"Whew! At that rate, it shouldn't take her long to come round to this point where you are to meet her."
"About nine months and a half: she has to catch up with the earth, you know."
"Nine months and a half at twenty-two miles a second! Great Jupiter Ammon! Well, anyway, that will give you time enough for the Hornet, won't it?"
"And to spare," nodded Henry, "or I'm a billy-goat."
As it turned out, Henry was no billy-goat; before the Queen of Beauty had reached what astronomers call her greatest elongation (a queer jargon these stargazers have) the Hornet was finished.
What was the Hornet like? Imagine a lemon-a big steel lemon, twenty feet long and ten feet through the middle. That is just what the Hornet was like in shape, save that the ends had been snipped off, as it were. And in each end was a thick but perfectly transparent glass, looking like a ship's port. Indeed, one of these gleaming disks was imbedded in a heavy steel frame which swung inward on hinges-for all the world like a port. This, of course, was to permit our ingress and egress; when the door was closed, the Hornet was as air-tight as a pop-bottle.
It must not be supposed, however, that these were the only windows; there were six of them all told in this marvelous thing that was to be our world-so tiny a world, dashing on and on through the deeps of space, on toward utter destruction,
As I have said, Venus had not yet reached her greatest elongation, which means that there remained about two months before the start: it was Henry's belief that the Hornet would travel across that terrible abyss with at least the speed of the earth in her orbit; in other words, fifteen days or so after quitting our world, if all went well we should be on the Planet of Love.
"But maybe we'll run into a meteor," said St. Cloud-who, by the way, had said this thing a hundred times if he had said it once.
"Of course," nodded Henry Quainfan. "But maybe we sha'n't. Space, I believe, is rather spacious, Morgan."
"And meteors, I believe, are rather multitudinous."
"Qh, well," Henry said, "Fortune can take from us nothing but what she gave."
"But Miss Fortune can."
"He that sitteth on the ground can't tumble, Morgan."
"As well sit still as rise up and fall."
"Hope," Henry told him, "is as cheap as despair."
"He may hope for the best that's prepared for the worst."
"He that always fears danger," said Henry, "always feels it."
"And he that passes a judgment as he runs overtakes repentance."
"Experience, we all know, keeps a dear school-"
"And fools like us," said St. Cloud, "will learn in no other."
"He that fears not the future may enjoy the present."
'In Golgotha," said Morgan St. Cloud, "are skulls of all sizes."
"And in Hell," Henry told him, "they now have fans."
St. Cloud smiled his dark smile and turned to me.
"Why didn't you come to my help, Rider?"
"Silence," I explained, "is wisdom when speaking is folly."
"Right," said he. "But sometimes 'tis wisdom to seem a fool."
Though the Hornet was done, we were by no means, in the days that followed, twiddling our thumbs; on the contrary, I positively believe that we were the busiest mortals in the whole state.
Two trial ascents were made, though not to a great height. The first Henry Quainfan insisted on making alone.
"Not that I doubt my absolute control of the Hornet," said he; "experiments have made me confident of that. Just caution, you know."
In neither instance was the height attained more than twenty miles. Though this was a record-smasher, in view of what followed it was in reality nothing.
Then we had to decide upon and procure (not so easy an office as may be fancied) those things necessary for our wild undertaking-firearms, medicines, food, and so on,
Venus reached her greatest elongation-a dazzling half moon of silver in Henry's little telescope, a four-inch refractor. She now began rapidly to approach the sun and swing into the crescent.
Then at last came the day.
INTO THE DEPTHS
IN the Hornet was a goodly supply of solidified air. There was also (among other things) a water apparatus, an apparatus to remove carbonic anhydrid from the atmosphere, and one to supply oxygen.
"We have nothing," Henry Quainfan made asservation, "to fear for our respiratory or alimentary machinery."
Also, there was an apparatus with which he hoped to send electromagnetic waves from Venus to the earth; but this, alas, was never attempted.
He had given a code to an ill-starred inventor named Homer L. Wood-a code that, if communication across that awful gap proved possible, none of the uninitiated would be apt to decipher. He had not explained things to Wood, had merely given him the code and the information that some time he might receive something which would bring him fame and fortune.
Poor Wood! I fear he shall have wait many a long day for that unknown something.
What would be the use of dwelling on those last hours on the planet of our birth I could not describe them. If I tried to put down on paper the sensations that came thronging into my breast and the thoughts which came thronging into my mind, I should only fail miserably.
So I shall hasten on.
That last night passed slowly. I slept but little, and, when I did sleep, it was only to dream the most terrible dreams.
And the day passed slowly. We did not talk much and moved about restlessly.
At one time, indeed, I felt like backing out, but the feeling soon passed away.
"I wonder," Henry smiled, "what Blimper and Buttermore will think. I
