I lay awake for some time that night, endeavouring to follow out the
track of thought I had entered upon in my conversation with Zara. With
such electricity as Heliobas practised, once admitting that human
electric force existed, a fact which no reasoning person could deny,
all things were possible. Even a knowledge of superhuman events might
be attained, if there were anything in the universe that WAS
superhuman; and surely it would be arrogant and ignorant to refuse to
contemplate such a probability. At one time people mocked at the wild
idea that a message could flash in a moment of time from one side of
the Atlantic to the other by means of a cable laid under the sea; now
that it is an established fact, the world has grown accustomed to it,
and has ceased to regard it as a wonder. Granting human electricity to
exist, why should not a communication be established, like a sort of
spiritual Atlantic cable, between man and the beings of other spheres
and other solar systems? The more I reflected on the subject the more
lost I became in daring speculations concerning that other world, to
which I was soon to be lifted. Then in a sort of half-doze, I fancied I
saw an interminable glittering chain of vivid light composed of circles
that were all looped one in another, which seemed to sweep round the
realms of space and to tie up the sun, moon, and stars like flowers in
a ribbon of fire. After much anxious and humble research, I found
myself to be one of the smallest links in this great chain. I do not
know whether I was grateful or afraid at this discovery, for sleep put
an end to my drowsy fancies, and dropped a dark curtain over my waking
dreams.
CHAPTER X.
MY STRANGE DEPARTURE.
The next morning brought me two letters; one from Mrs. Everard, telling
me that she and the Colonel had resolved on coming to Paris.
"All the nice people are going away from here," she wrote. "Madame
Didier and her husband have started for Naples; and, to crown our
lonesomeness, Raffaello Cellini packed up all his traps, and left us
yesterday morning en route for Rome. The weather continues to be
delicious; but as you seem to be getting on so well in Paris, in spite
of the cold there, we have made up our minds to join you, the more
especially as I want to renovate my wardrobe. We shall go straight to
the Grand Hotel; and I am writing to Mrs. Challoner by this post,
asking her to get us rooms. We are so glad you are feeling nearly
recovered--of course, you must not leave your physician till you are
quite ready. At any rate, we shall not arrive till the end of next
week."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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