"You must!" The Voice became commanding. "If you stay now, you and your companions are doomed to perish. There is no alternative. Be satisfied that we know you--we watch you--we shall expect you sooner or later. Meanwhile--guide your ship!--the way is open." Quickly she sprang to the steering-gear--she felt the "White Eagle" moving, and lifting its vast wings for flight. "Farewell!" she cried, with a sense of tears in her throat--"Farewell!" "Not farewell!" came the reply, spoken softly and with tenderness--"We shall meet again soon! I will speak to you in Sicily!" "In Sicily!" she exclaimed, joyfully--"You will speak to me there?" "There and everywhere!" answered the Voice--"The Sound Ray knows no distance. I shall speak--and you shall hear--whenever you will!" The last syllables died away like faintly sung music--and in a few more seconds the great air-ship was sailing steadily in a level line and at a swift pace onward,--the last shining glimpse of the mysterious City vanished, and the "White Eagle" soared over a sable blackness of empty desert, through a dark space besprinkled with stars. Filled with a new sense of power and gladness, Morgana held the vessel in the guidance of her slight but strong hands, and it had flown many miles before the Marchese Rivardi sprang up suddenly from where he had lain lost in unconsciousness and stared around him amazed and confused. "A thousand pardons, Madama!" he stammered--"I shall never forgive myself! I have been asleep!" CHAPTER XIX At almost the same moment Gaspard stumbled to his feet. "Asleep--asleep!" he exclaimed--"_Mon Dieu!_--the shame of it!--the shame! What pigs are men! To sleep after food and wine, and to leave a woman alone like this!... the shame!" Morgana, quietly steering the "White Eagle," smiled. "Poor Gaspard!" she said--"You could not help it! You were so tired! And you, Marchese! You were both quite worn out! I was glad to see you sleeping--there is no shame in it! As I have often told you, I can manage the ship alone." But Rivardi was white with anger and self-reproach. "Gross pigs we are!" he said, hotly--"Gaspard is right! And yet--" here he passed a hand across his brow and tried to collect his thoughts--"yes!--surely something unusual must have happened! We heard bells ringing--" Morgana watched him closely, her hand on her air-vessel's helm. "Yes--we all thought we heard bells"--she said--"But that was a noise in our own brains--the clamour of our own blood brought on by pressure--we were flying at too great a height and the tension was too strong--" Gaspard threw out his hands with a half defiant gesture. "No, Madama! It could not be so! I swear we never left our own level! What happened I cannot tell--but I felt that I was struck by a sudden blow--and I fell without force to recover--"