by Anthology
The night was moonless, and the two stumbled and groped their way down the lane at a pace whose slowness exasperated Rebecca.
"Ef I'd a-known!" she exclaimed, under her breath.
"We're 'most there, Cousin Rebecca," said Copernicus, with deprecating softness. "Here, give me holt o' yer hand while we climb over the wall. Here's Burnham's swamp right now."
Accepting the proffered aid, Rebecca found herself in the midst of a thicket of bushes, many of which were thorny and all of which seemed bent upon repelling nocturnal adventurers.
Droop, going ahead, did his best to draw aside the obstinate twigs, and Rebecca followed him with half-averted head, lifting her skirts and walking sidewise.
"'Mighty lucky, 'tain't wet weather!" she mumbled.
At that moment her guide stood still.
"There!" he exclaimed, in a low, half-awed voice.
Rebecca stopped and gazed about. A little to the right the dark gray of the sky was cut by a looming black mass of uncertain form.
It looked like the crouching phantom of some shapeless sea-monster. Rebecca half expected to see it dissolve like a wind-driven fog.
Their physical sight could distinguish nothing of the outer characteristics of this mysterious structure; but for this very reason, the imagination was the more active. Rebecca, with all her directness of nature and commonplace experience, felt in this unwonted presence that sense of awed mystery which she would have called a "creepy feeling."
What unknown and incomprehensible forces were locked within that formless mass? By what manner of race as yet unborn had its elements been brought together--no, no--would they be brought together? How assume a comfortable mental attitude toward this creation whose present existence so long antedated its own origin?
One sentiment, at least, Rebecca could entertain with hearty consistency. Curiosity asserted its supremacy over every other feeling.
"Can't we get into the thing, an' light a candle or suthin'?" she said.
"Of course we can," said Droop. "That's what I brought ye here fer. Take holt o' my hand an' lift yer feet, or you'll stumble."
Leading his companion by the hand, Copernicus approached the dark form, moving with great caution over the clumps of grassy turf. Presently he reached the side of the machine. Rebecca heard him strike it with his hand two or three times, as though groping for something. Then she was drawn forward again, and suddenly found herself entering an invisible doorway. She stumbled on the threshold and flung out her free hand for support. She clutched at a hand-rail that seemed to lead spirally upward.
Droop's voice came out of the blackness.
"Jest wait here a minute," he said. "I'll go up an' turn on the light."
She heard him climbing a short flight of stairs, and a few moments later a flood of light streamed from a doorway above her head, amply lighting the little hallway in which Rebecca was standing.
The hand-rail to which she was already clinging skirted the iron stairs leading to the light, and she started at once up this narrow spiral.
She was met at the door by Copernicus, who was smiling with a proud complacency.
"Wal, Cousin Rebecca," he said, with a sweeping gesture indicating their general surroundings, "what d'ye think o' this?"
They were standing at the head of a sort of companion-way in a roomy antechamber much resembling the general cabin of a luxurious old-time sailing-packet. The top of the stairs was placed between two windows in one side wall of the machine, through which there was just then entering a gentle breeze. Two similar openings faced these in the opposite side wall, and under each of the four windows there was a long wooden bench carrying a flat mattress cushion.
In the middle of the room, on a square deep-piled rug, stood a table covered with a red cloth and surrounded by three or four solid-looking upholstered chairs. Here were some books and papers, and directly over the table a handsome electric chandelier hung from the ceiling of dark-wood panels. This was the source of their present illumination.
"This here's the settin'-room," Droop explained. "An' these are the state-rooms--that's what he called 'em."
He walked toward two doors in one of the end walls and, opening one of them, turned the switch of the lamp within.
"'Lectric lights in it, like down to Keene," Rebecca remarked, approaching the cabin and peering in.
She saw a small bedroom comfortably furnished. The carpet was apparently new, and on the tastefully papered walls hung a number of small oil-paintings.
Droop opened the other door.
"They're both alike," he said.
Rebecca glanced into the second apartment, which was indeed the counterpart of its companion.
"Well, it wouldn't do no harm to sweep an' beat these carpets!" she exclaimed. Then, slipping her forefinger gingerly over the edge of a chair: "Look at that dust!" she said, severely, holding up her hand for inspection.
But Droop had bustled off to another part of the room.
"Here's lockers under these window-seats," he explained, with a dignified wave of the hand. "Here's books an' maps in this set o' shelves. Here's a small pianner that plays itself when you turn on the electricity----"
There was a stumbling crash and a suppressed cry at the foot of the stairs.
With his heart in his mouth, Droop leaped to the chandelier and turned out the lights; then rushed to the state-rooms and was about to turn their switches as well, when a familiar voice greeted their ears from below--
"Don't be scared--it's only Phoebe."
"What ever possessed--" began Rebecca, in a low tone.
But at that moment Phoebe's head appeared over the stair rail in the light shed from the two state-rooms.
"Won't you light up again, Mr. Droop?" she said, merrily, smiling the while into her sister's crestfallen face. "I heard you two leavin' the house, an' I just guessed what you'd be up to. So I followed you down here."
She dropped into one of the chairs beside the table just as Droop relighted the lamps.
With one slender hand resting upon the table, she looked up into Droop's face and went on:
"I was havin' a dreadful time, stumbling over stocks an' stones at every step, till suddenly there was quite a light struck my face, and first I knew I was lookin' right into your lighted windows. I guess we'll have a pleasant meetin' here of all the folks in town pretty soon--not to mention the skeeters, which are comin' right early this year!"
"Lands sakes!" cried Rebecca.
"There now!" exclaimed Copernicus, bustling toward the windows, "I must be a nateral born fool!"
Phoebe laughed in high spirits at thought of her prank, while Droop closed the tight iron shutters at each window, thus confining every ray of light.
Rebecca seated herself opposite Phoebe and looked severely straight before her with her hands folded in her lap. She was ashamed of her curiosity and much chagrined at being discovered in this unconventional situation by her younger sister.
Phoebe gazed about her and, having taken in the general aspect of the antechamber in which they were assembled, she explored the two state-rooms. Thence she returned for a more detailed survey. Droop followed her about explaining everything, but Rebecca remained unmoved.
"What's all those dials on the wall, Mr. Droop?" asked the younger sister.
"I wish't you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," said Droop, appealingly.
Phoebe ran up very close to a large steel dial-plate covered with figures.
"Now what the land is this for?" she exclaimed.
"Thet," said Droop, slowly, "is an indicator of height above ground and tells yer direction."
"And what d'ye do with this little handle?"
"Why, you set that for north or west or any other way, an' the hull machine keeps headed that way until ye change it."
"Oh, is that the rudder?"
"No, that is fer settin' jest one course fer a long ride--like's ef we was goin' north to the pole, ye know. The rudder's in here, 'long with the other machinery."
He walked to one of the two doors which faced the state-rooms.
Phoebe followed him and found herself in the presence of a bewildering array of controlling and guiding handles--gauges--test cocks--meters and indicators. She was quite overawed, and listened with a new respect for her distant relative as he explained the uses of the various instruments. It was evident that he had quite mastered the significance of each implement.
When Droop had completed his lecture, Phoebe found that she understood the uses of three of the levers. The rest was a mystery to her.
"This is the starting-lever," she said. "This steers, and this reverses. Is that it?"
"That's correct," said Droop, "an' if----"
She cut him short by whisking out of the room.
"What drives the thing?" she asked, as he meekly followed her.
"Oh, the's power storage an' all kinds o' works down below stairs."
"An' what's this room for?" she asked, opening the door next the engine-room.
"Thet's the kitchen an' butler's pantry," said Droop. "It's mighty finely fitted up, I tell ye. That future-man was what ye call a conusure. My, but he could cook up fine victuals!"
Rebecca found this temptation stronger than her ill humor, and she rose with alacrity and followed her companions into the now brightly lighted kitchen.
Here the appointments were the completest possible, and, after she and Phoebe had mastered the theory of the electric range, they agreed that they had never seen such a satisfactory equipment.
Phoebe stood in the middle of the room and looked about her with kindling eyes. The novelty of this adventure had intoxicated her. Rebecca's enthusiasm was repeated threefold in the more youthful bosom of her sister.
"My!" she cried, "wouldn't it be lovely if we could make this our house down here for a while! What would the Mellicks an' the Tituses an'----"
"They'd take us for a lunatic asylum," Rebecca exclaimed, severely.
Phoebe considered a moment and then gravely replied:
"Yes, I s'pose they would."
Copernicus was pacing slowly up and down from range to china-closet and back, rubbing his hands slowly over each other.
"I wish't you'd try to see ef ye couldn't change yer mind, Cousin Phoebe," he said, earnestly. "Jest think of all there is in this extrordnery vessel--what with kitchen an' little cunnin' state-rooms--what with the hull machinery an' all--it's a sinful waste to leave it all to rot away down in this here swamp when we might all go back to the Centennial an' get rich as--as Solomon's temple!"
Phoebe led the way in silence to the outer room again, and Droop carefully extinguished the lights in the kitchen and engine-room.
As the three stood together under the main chandelier their faces were the exponents of three different moods.
Droop was wistful--anxious.
Rebecca looked grimly regretful.
In Phoebe's eyes there shone a cheerful light--but her expression was enigmatic.
"Now let's go home," she said, briskly. "I've got somethin' that I want to talk to Rebecca about. Can't you call in to-morrow mornin', Mr. Droop?"
"Don't ye believe ye might change yer mind?" he asked, mournfully.
"We'll be through with the breakfast an' have things set to rights by eight o'clock," said Phoebe.
CHAPTER III
A NOCTURNAL EVASION
Promptly at the appointed time, Copernicus Droop might have been seen approaching the white cottage. Still nursing a faint hope, he walked with nervous rapidity, mumbling and gesticulating in his excitement. He attracted but little attention. His erratic movements were credited to his usual potations, and no one whom he passed even gave him a second glance.
Nearing the house he saw Phoebe leaning out of one of the second-story windows. She had been gazing westward toward Burnham's swamp, but she caught sight of Droop and nodded brightly to him. Then she drew in her head and pulled down the window.
Phoebe opened the door as Copernicus entered the garden gate, and it was at once apparent that her buoyant mood was still upon her, for she actually offered her hand to her visitor as he stood at the threshold wiping his feet.
"Good mornin'," she said. "I've ben tryin' to see if I could find the Panchronicon out of my window. It's just wonderful how well it's hidden in the bushes."
She led him to the parlor and offered him a seat.
"Where's Cousin Rebecca?" he said, as he carefully placed his hat on the floor beside his chair.
Phoebe seated herself opposite to her visitor with her back to the windows, so that her face was in shadow.
"Rebecca's upstairs," she replied.
Then, after a moment's pause: "She's packin' up," she said.
Droop straightened up excitedly.
"What--packin'!" he cried. "Hev ye decided ye'll go, then?"
"Well," said Phoebe, slowly, "we have an'--an' we haven't."
"What d'ye mean?"
"Why, Mr. Droop, it's just like this," she exclaimed, leaning forward confidentially. "Ye see, Rebecca an' I are both just plumb crazy to try that wonderful plan of cuttin' meridians at the North Pole--an' we're wild fer a ride on that queer kind of a boat or whatever ye call it. At the same time, Rebecca has to acknowledge that it's askin' too much of me to go back to two years old an' live like a baby. For one thing, I wouldn't have a thing to wear."
"But ye might make some clothes before ye start," Droop suggested.
"Mr. Droop!" Phoebe exclaimed, severely, "what do you s'pose folks would say if Rebecca and I was to set to work makin' baby clothes--two old maids like us?"
Droop looked down in confusion and plucked at the edge of his coat.
"Phoebe Wise, you're only just tryin' to be smart fer argument!"
This sentence was delivered with a suddenness which was startling. Droop looked up with a jump to find Rebecca standing at the door with a pile of clean sheets on her arm.
She was gazing sternly at Phoebe, who appeared somewhat disconcerted.
"You know's well's I do," continued the elder sister, "that every one o' your baby clothes is folded an' put away as good as new in the attic."
Phoebe rallied quickly and repelled this attack with spirit.
"Well, I don't care. They'll stay right where they are, Rebecca," she answered, with irritation. "You know we settled it last night that I wasn't to be pestered about goin' back to 1876!"
"That's true," was the reply, "but don't you be givin' such fool reasons for it. It's really just because you're afraid o' bein' whipped an' put to bed--an' goodness knows, you deserve it!"
With this, Rebecca turned grimly and went into the garden to hang the sheets up for an airing.
There was a moment's awkward pause, and then Phoebe broke the silence.
"Our plan's this, Mr. Droop," she said, "an' I hope you'll agree. We want to have you take us to the North Pole and unwind about six years. That'll take us back before the World's Fair in Chicago, when I was eighteen years old, an' we can see fer ourselves how it feels to be livin' backward an' growin' younger instead of older every minute."
"But what's the good of that?" Droop asked, querulously. "I ain't goin' to do it jest fer fun. I'm growin' too old to waste time that way. My plan was to make money with all them inventions."
"Well, an' why can't ye?" she replied, coaxingly. "There's that X-ray invention, now. Why couldn't you show that at the World's Fair an' get a patent fer it?"
"I don't understand that business," he replied, sharply. "Besides I can't get one o' them X-ray machines--they cost a heap."
This was a blow to Phoebe's plan and she fell silent, thinking deeply. She had foreseen that Droop would take only a mercenary view of the matter and had relied upon the X-ray to provide him with a motive. But if he refused this, what was she to do?
Suddenly her face lighted up.
"I've got it!" she cried. "You know those movin' picture boxes ye see down to Keene, where ye turn a handle and a lot of photograph cards fly along like rufflin' the leaves of
a book. Why, it just makes things look alive, Mr. Droop. I'm sure those weren't thought of six years ago. They're span spinter new. Why won't they do?"
"I ain't got one o' those either," Droop grumbled. "I've got a kodak an' a graphophone an' a lot o' Milliken's cough syrup with the recipe----"
"Why there!" cried Phoebe, exultantly. "Milliken's cough syrup is only four years old, ain't it?"
Droop did not reply, but his silence was a virtual assent.
"The's a mint o' money in that--you know there is, Mr. Droop," she urged. "Why, I guess Mr. Milliken must have two or three millions, hasn't he?"
Rebecca returned at this moment and seated herself on the haircloth settle, nodding silently to Droop.
"What's about Mr. Milliken's money, Phoebe?" she asked.
"Why Mr. Droop says the X-ray is no good because it costs a heap and he hasn't got a machine fer it--an' I was tellin' him that Milliken's cough syrup was just as good--for that wasn't invented six years ago, an'----"
"Phoebe Wise, what do you mean!" exclaimed Rebecca. "Why, it would be jest like robbery to take Mr. Milliken's syrup, an' palm it off as Mr. Droop's. I'm surprised at ye!"
This attack upon the ethical plane struck Phoebe speechless. She blushed and stammered, but had no reply to make. The seeming defeat really concealed a victory, however, for it instantly converted Copernicus into an ally.
"You don't understand the thing, Cousin Rebecca," he said, gently but firmly. "Ye see ef we go six years back, it'll be a time when Mr. Milliken hadn't ever thought of his cough syrup. How could we be robbin' him of somethin' he hasn't got?"
Rebecca looked confused for a moment, but was not to be so easily convinced.
"'Tain't somethin' he ain't thought of," she said, stoutly. "He's makin' money out of it, an' ef we get back before him, why, when time comes agin for him to invent it he won't have it to invent. I'm sure that's jest as bad as robbin' him, ain't it?"
Phoebe looked anxiously at Copernicus and was much pleased to find him apparently unmoved.
"Why, you certainly don't understand this yet," he insisted. "Milliken ain't agoin' back six years with us, is he? He'll jest go right along livin' as he's ben doin'."