“Utopian!” Hallett repeated after him. “To-day we are children of Utopia—or we are nothing. I tell you, doctor, to-day it has come down to this—Hamburg to Bagdad—or—Utopia!” The other lifted his big arms and his face was red. “You’re playing with words, Hallett. You do nothing but twist my words. When I say Utopian, I mean, precisely, impossible. Absolutely impossible. See here! You tell me this empire of theirs is a dream. I give you that. How long has it taken them to dream it? Forty years. _Forty years!_ And this wild, transcendental empire of the spirit you talk about,—so much harder,—so many hundreds of times more incredible,—will you have us do that sort of a thing in a _day_? We’re a dozen races, a score of nations. I tell you it’s—it’s impossible!” “Yes. Impossible.” The silence came down between them, heavy with all the dark, impersonal sounds of passage, the rhythmical explosions of the waves, the breathing of engines, the muffled staccato of the spark in the wireless room, the note of the ship’s bell forward striking the hour and after it a hail, running thin in the wind: “Six bells, sir, and—_all’s well_!” “_All’s well!_” The irony of it! The infernal patness of it, falling so in the black interlude, like stage business long rehearsed. “_All’s well!_” the doctor echoed with the mirthless laughter of the damned. Hallett raised himself very slowly on an elbow and stared at the star beyond the rail. “Yes, I shouldn’t wonder. Just now—to-night—somehow—I’ve got a queer feeling that maybe it is. Maybe it’s going to be.—Maybe it’s going to be; who knows? The darkest hour of our lives, of history, perhaps, has been on us. And maybe it’s almost over. Maybe we’re going to do the impossible, after all, doctor. And maybe we’re going to get it done in time. I’ve got a queer sense of something happening—something getting ready.” When he spoke again, his voice had changed a little. “I wish my father could have lived to see this day. He’s in New York now, and I should like—” The doctor moved forward suddenly and quietly, saying: “Lie down, Hallett. You’d better lie down now.” But the other protested with a gray hand.