We owed our salvation to Mr. Carmichael. The firing of our magazine
rifles, followed by the news of our perilous situation, had roused him
from his lethargy. Although still unable to speak, he had contrived by
means of his eyes to make his daughter understand that he wished another
dose of oxygen. When she was about to administer it, he called her
attention to the fact that in expanding as it issued from the cylinder, the gas became very cold. She caught his meaning instantly, and on applying the gas to the sensitive parts of the machinery had succeeded in cooling and releasing them.
It seems that Carmichael, in order to save time, had been working the
engines at an unusually high speed, which, together with the heat of the
sun, had caused them to jam. Their enforced rest had of itself allowed
them to cool somewhat, and by reducing the speed until we reached a
cooler region, they did not stick again.
Carmichael recovered from his illness, and the journey to the earth was
accomplished without accident. We landed safely on some undiscovered
islands in the Arctic Circle, and after a flying visit to the North Pole
in the vicinity, we bore away for England, keeping as high over the sea
as possible to escape notice. Going southward we passed through all
sorts of weather, thick snow, hurricanes of wind and rain, dry or wet
fogs, and so forth; but it made no difference to us. Crossing
Spitzbergen, the car was frosted over with ice needles, which, however, were soon thawed by a warmer current of air. Between Iceland and the coast of Norway we glided through a magnificent aurora borealis that covered the whole sky with a luminous curtain, and made us fancy we had floated unawares into the fabulous Niffleheim of the old Scandinavian gods. Near the Faroe Islands we dashed into a violent thunderstorm, and were almost deafened by the terrific explosions, or blinded by the flashes of lightning. Otherwise we could enjoy both of these electrical displays without fear, as the metallic shell of the car was a good protective screen. Certainly our flying machine would be an excellent means of making observations in meteorology, from the sampling of cirrus cloud to the chasing of a tornado.
The first sign of man we saw was a ship rolling in a storm off the
Hebrides; but apparently she was not in distress, else we should have
gone to her succour. How easy with such a car to rescue lives and
property from sinking ships, and even patrol the seas in search of them!
The sun was setting in purple and gold as we approached the English
coast, and although at our elevation we were still in sunshine, the
twilight had begun to gather over the distant land. The first sound we
heard was the moaning of the tide along the shore, and the mournful
sighing of the wind among the trees. Hills, fields, and woods lay
beneath us like a garden in miniature. The lamps and fires of lonely
villages and farmhouses twinkled like glow-worms in the dusk. A railway
train, with its white puff of smoke and lighted carriages, seemed to be
crawling like a fiery caterpillar along the ground; but in a few moments
we had left it far behind. As it grew darker and darker we descended
nearer to the surface. A herd of sheep stood huddled on the grass, and
stared at us; a flock of geese ran cackling into a farmyard; the
watch-dog barked and tugged furiously at his chain; a little boy
screamed with fright.
"That sounds homely," said the professor to Miss Carmichael and myself, who were standing with him on the gallery outside the car. "It's the sweetest music I've heard for many a day. Certainly Venus was a charming place, but I for one am jolly glad to get home again."
Yes, I must confess that I too felt a deep and tranquil pleasure in
returning to the familiar scenes and the beloved soil of my infancy.
"You don't seem to care much for Venus," said Miss Carmichael to Gazen. "Probably if you had been born there you would have liked it better."
"That may be. If you would like a place, it is well to be born in it."
"Perhaps if you are a good boy you will go to Venus when you die."
"I'm afraid it won't suit my mental constitution. They don't care for
science there, and I don't care for anything else. Mars would fit me
better, I imagine."
"Venus is my favourite," said Miss Carmichael.
"Well, then, it's good enough for me," responded Gazen.