A. D. 2000

  CHAPTER IV

  It is necessary to go back a few months in our story, and introduce anew character, the inhabitant of the little old, dilapidated house inthe lane.

  On the evening of December 10, 1886, as Cobb was coming out of theCosmos, a favorite club of the young gentlemen of San Francisco, hehad run into an old and crippled man who was passing down the street.Cobb was in a hurry as he emerged from the place, and did not noticethe poor pedestrian in time to avoid a collision. The consequenceswere that the old man was knocked to the ground, and appeared to bebadly hurt. Cobb at once stopped and lifted the man up to ascertain theextent of his injuries, and finding him still insensible, had called ahack to convey him to the nearest druggist.

  The man was about sixty years of age, his right leg partiallyparalyzed, the sight of his right eye gone, and deep scars upon hisface and neck. His clothes were shabby and much worn, yet there wereindications that the man had seen better days.

  That portion of his face which was not scarred and seamed, gaveevidence of quickness and perception, and a general appearance ofknowledge and former refinement was plainly noticeable. His hands,too, were not those of a man accustomed to hard work.

  This man was Jean Colchis, a native of France, but a refugee from thatcountry. He had, in his time, been a great chemist; he had been noted,far and near, as a man greatly gifted in the sciences, and one who hadgiven much to his native country in the way of scientific invention;but, at a later day in his life, he had been led away by the persuasionof others to engage in a plot against the ruling power of his land.This plot being discovered, he was sentenced to death, but, escaping,had taken refuge in the United States.

  He was the recipient of a small pension from the members of his familywho had not joined in the conspiracy, and upon this small pension JeanColchis lived in the humble and rickety house in Duke's Lane.

  The pension was sufficient for all the needs of the old man and hisonly daughter, a lovely girl of seventeen years; it gave them theirdaily sustenance and life, and a slight margin from which to purchasethe few things he needed to continue the one hobby of his life,chemical analysis.

  When Cobb had taken the old man to the druggist's, an examination hadshown that nothing but a slight contusion of the side of the headhad resulted from the unexpected knock-down he had received. He soonregained his senses, but was in a weak and helpless condition.

  Learning from him the place of his abode, Cobb at once took him therein a hack, and carefully attended him during the remainder of thatevening.

  Such was the introduction of Junius Cobb to Jean Colchis.

  Cobb's kindness to the old Frenchman was rewarded by an invitation tocall again, and as he descended the stairs of the old, rain-beatenhouse, he resolved to come the next evening.

  He did come, and many evenings after, and it was from this old manthat Cobb first learned the art of making ozone in quantities. Itwas not a difficult matter for them to ascertain the various hobbieseach possessed. Their conversation soon gave each an insight into thedesires of the other for a knowledge of the many things yet unknown,but yet imagined. Their desires being so assimilated, their tendenciesso coincident, it was only natural that each should take more than acommon liking to the other.

  But, though he had worked with Colchis in the manufacture and uses ofozone, the latter never had any idea of the grand scheme his friend hadin view, for Cobb would not communicate the secret to him for fear thathe might divulge it to others.

  The door of the old house had opened to admit Cobb, and had closedagain, leaving him in the hall. There was no light to guide him, buthis knowledge of the place and surroundings was such that he foundno difficulty in ascending to the little back parlor where Colchisusually sat when not at work.

  Opening the door, he entered, and was quickly clasped about the neck bya pair of plump white arms, while a face, radiantly beautiful, lookedinto his, and a red pouting mouth invited the kiss which he quicklybestowed upon it.

  "Oh, Mr. Cobb, I am so glad you have come! I heard you at the door, andhave surprised you! Now, have I not? Say yes; for you know I have!" andthe sweet little maiden released him, and shook her delicate finger ina menacing gesture, as if her command could not be disobeyed.

  Marie Colchis was the only child of Jean Colchis--a beautiful,fair-skinned girl of seventeen, with long, heavy blonde hair; plump inform, with small, fine hands; loving in disposition, with most winsomeways; innocent as a new-born babe.

  Jean Colchis had kept this sweet girl close to him with a jealous care.She knew no one, scarcely, save her father and Junius Cobb. Witty andbright beyond her years, yet gentle and innocent as a lamb, she hadfrom the very first conceived a girlish love for her father's visitor.And Junius Cobb loved the girl dearly; loved to hear her girlish talkand watch her innocent ways; loved to stroke her hair, and loved tokiss her lips and feel her arms about him. Was there any harm? He wasthirty-three, and she was but seventeen.

  Jean Colchis noted their peculiar love, and smiled. No man wascloser to the heart of Jean Colchis than Junius Cobb. Nothing couldthe latter ask that the old man in Duke's Lane would not have givenhim--even his daughter, should he seek her. But this, of course, theold man knew was beyond expectation. It would have pleased his oldheart, but the disparity of years caused him to believe it to beimpossible.

  And Marie--what were her thoughts and feelings?

  She loved Junius Cobb--loved him, young as she was, as a mature womanloves the man she would call husband. She loved him with her wholeheart, with her very soul.

  Cobb knew this, and reproached himself many times for causing heraffectionate heart to entertain the hope that she would sometime be hiswife.

  It had come by degrees, unseen by either, until each had felt that thebrightness of the world was centered in the other. He could not marryher; this he knew, for she was too young. He could not wait until shehad bloomed into the magnificent woman that he knew nature had destinedher to become, for he would then be dead to the world. He could nottell her the truth! He did what thousands of others have done--hetemporized.

  "Marie," and he took both of her hands in his, and looked long andlovingly into her eyes; "Marie, you are not a child, you are a woman.You are far beyond your years. What I tell you to-night will cause youpain, but it must be said."

  "O, Mr. Cobb!" she cried, and the tears flooded her eyes; "areyou going to tell me that I am no longer your little Marie! thatan--an--another is going to take you away from your little girl?" andshe buried her head in his hands and cried piteously.

  "No, Marie, not that!" he quickly returned. "But I am going to leaveyou; am going far away; I may never return!"

  "And you will meet other and beautiful women, and will forget yourMarie!" she said, still sobbing.

  "No! darling little Marie! Will it give you pleasure if I tell you thatI swear to be true to you--to wait until you have grown to womanhood?that I will marry no other woman living but you?" and he stroked herbeautiful hair and raised her face to his.

  "If you swear this, you do love me!" she cried through her tears; then,brightening up, she threw her arms about him, and murmured: "Thoughit will grieve me to the heart to see you leave me, yet your promisewill ever tend to dull the sorrow of your absence, and will be a beaconlight for me to look forward to. A few years, and you will come andclaim me, will you not, Junius?" and as the words left her lips, sheblushed and dropped her eyes from before his gaze.

  Somehow, she had never before used his first name. It seemed to herthat he was too far above her, too much older, for such a liberty onher part.

  And how had their love ripened, these two of years so wide apart?Simply and easily enough. In one of his loving moods, Junius Cobb, inkissing her good-night, had said:

  "Marie, I will wait until you grow up, and marry you!"

  "Will you?" she had replied, laughing, yet earnestly. "Then, I acceptyou, Mr. Cobb, and will grow just as fast as I can."

  Very simple, and very easy.

  "Marie, littl
e darling," and Cobb's voice was sad and low, "to-night Igo far away. To-night we must part; but my sacred promise I give you,my girl darling, that when I return, you shall be my wife, _if living_."

  He knew his deception, but it was better, he thought, to let her livewithout the knowledge of the utter impossibility of the fulfillment ofher hopes, than to tell her the truth, and break her heart. She wouldoutgrow her girlish love, he argued, and time would soften, if notdeaden, the sorrow of his continued absence.

  For a half-hour they talked, they loved, this man of thirty-three andthe girl of seventeen.

  Who can fathom the mysteries of love!

  Leaving her in sorrow at his coming departure, but hopeful for thefuture, he moved toward the workshop of Colchis, while a chokingsensation surrounded his heart, and tears filled his eyes.

  Turning the knob of the last door at the end of the hall, Cobbentered, and found his friend moving toward him.

  The room was lighted by four Edison incandescent lamps, one in eachcorner, besides an arc light directly over a large and peculiar machinefrom which sparks were incessantly being emitted.

  Like all true workers in electricity, Colchis' apartments were anet-work of wires, while the various parts of the house were connected,in one way or another, for quick communication. The answer to thesummons which Cobb had made at the door was given by a speaking-tube,while the door itself opened and closed by magnets; thus Colchis wasenabled to remain in his room while answering the calls at his doormade by the few who had occasion to visit him.

  "Ah, Junius, my boy, welcome to the shop!" and the old man grasped thelatter's hand. "I was expecting you this morning, sure; for it is nowover forty-eight hours since you were here. What has kept you away?"

  "Duty, master; duty." Cobb had early used the term master, in token ofthe ability of his old but generous friend.

  "I was engaged the past two nights, and it was impossible for me to gethere; but how progresses the work? Are you making a good showing, foryou know the time is drawing near when I shall want the full amount."

  "Yes; there are nearly eight pounds ready for you when you desire totake them."

  "Good! It is close to the amount, I must say; and the batteries arestill at it, I see."

  "Will you take a look at the work of the day?"

  "Yes; but yet, master, you know that I do not pretend to pass upon yourwork. I am too well satisfied that it is being well done."

  They moved toward the sparkling and crackling instrument near thefurther corner of the room.

  In reality, it was not what would be called an instrument, but averitable manufacturing machine, turning out its products, smallthough they were, in the most perfect manner, and ceasing in its workbut for a brief time during the whole twenty-four hours. This was thedecomposing machine which Colchis and Cobb had devised and made forthe concentrating of the ozone in the air. It was a rude affair, inone sense of the word, for neither of them had had any experience inmaking such machinery before; yet it was marvelous in other respects,for it accurately performed the duty for which it had been constructed.Standing upon four legs, was a glass case, about sixteen inchessquare by twenty deep, in the upper portion of which was a separatecompartment with a glass bottom, having a hole some eight inches squarethrough its center; on each side of this hole, with the points aboutone-sixteenth of an inch apart, were ten platinum wires, while theopening in the top terminated in a common stove-pipe, which was runinto the chimney. Entering at the bottom of the case was a two-inchpipe, connected with a large double-cylinder air-pump, which in turnwas coupled to a pony motor worked by storage batteries.

  Along the other side of the room were twenty-four cases, eachcontaining four accumulators of under .005-ohm internal resistance.These batteries were, individually, capable of developing 350 amperehours of work, and each cell had an electromotive force of eight volts.A part of this battery was attached to the platinum points in theinside of the case, while the remainder was used to work the pump, feedthe lamps in the house, etc.

  The pump was an ordinary compressor of two cylinders, each cylinderhaving a capacity of 1,000 cubic inches. The total power exerted was3,000 pounds every six-tenths of a second, or about thirteen actualhorse power.

  The air being received into the cylinder, was forced into the glasscase through the pipe in the bottom, and under a pressure of twoatmospheres; thus delivering, every three minutes, 200,000 cubic inchesof air. The air, in rising, passed through the aperture above and outthrough the pipe, which was provided with a valve opening at a pressureof thirty-five pounds per square inch. Between the platinum points, bymeans of an automatic break, were continually being sent a series ofelectric sparks, causing the air to be deprived of its ozone, whichfell in vapor to the bottom of the glass case, and there formed intocrystals of various sizes.

  The machinery which Colchis and Cobb had erected was not perfect byany means, and the consequence was that they could not save all ofthe ozone in any given quantity of air. They did the best they could,saving about fifty per cent.

  The air-pumps were capable of driving through the reduction chamberover 80,000,000 cubic inches, or 4,000 pounds of air in every twentyhours; but this vast amount yielded only 400 grains of ozone. Theexpenditure of force for the result obtained was enormous; but therewas no other method for them to get the amount of ozone required,except with greater power and cost.

  Early in July, Cobb had gained the assistance of Colchis to manufacturethese crystals, and had put in the reducer, pumps, and motorimmediately after.

  Every evening at six o'clock, and every morning at five, a team droveup to Colchis' back gate, delivering new storage batteries and takingaway the old ones.

  Day after day, from seven in the morning until five in the afternoon,and from seven in the afternoon until five in the morning, since the5th of August, the manufacture had been going on; making one hundredand twelve days' work up to the morning in question--November 25, 1887.

  "Master, this is the 25th of August, is it not?"

  "Yes, Junius."

  "And you say the quantity that I asked for is nearly ready?"

  "Nearly. At five o'clock to-morrow morning I will have 45,000 grains."

  "Good! That is the amount, exactly."

  "But at first you desired only seven pounds; I would have had that sometime ago."

  "Yes, master; but I did not care to have you stop at the exact amount;circumstances might cause me to wish for more, at the last moment."

  "It has been incessant work for the machines, I can assure you; butthey have done splendidly;" and Colchis laid his hand lovingly upon thereducer, near which he was standing.

  "Colchis, how can I ever repay you for the time you have given to themanufacture of these crystals?" and Cobb took up a glass bottle with asealed top containing a pound of ozone, the result of over two weeks'constant work.

  "Say nothing about pay, my dear boy; it has cost you enough already, Ifear; for the continual recharging of all these accumulators must takeno small sum."

  "True; it has taken quite a little fortune, to me at least, to obtainthese eight pounds of ozone; but I hope the money has been wellexpended."

  "Junius," and Colchis laid his hand upon the other's shoulder, "youhave never told me what you are going to do with all this ozone. Isthere a secret about it? If there is, my boy, you need not say aword; perhaps I ought not to ask you, but leave you to tell me, or not,as you wish."

  "Colchis, my dear old friend, I ought to be more confiding, and tellyou why I sought your assistance, why I have used your time, why Ihave taken your knowledge and used it to my own advantage; but it isimpossible to make you acquainted with this one great object. Ask nomore, I pray you!" and he turned away as if he had refused that whichthe other was justly entitled to request.

  Putting his arm about Cobb's neck, Colchis looked him in the eyes witha kind and loving expression:

  "Say no more; make no excuses; I surely would not pry into yoursecrets. We all have undertakings, we all have peri
ods of our livesconcerning which we do not care to communicate to the world. Yoursecrets are yours, Junius; I do not feel hurt in the least that youenlighten me not upon them."

  "But I know your curiosity has been aroused, and you naturally havewondered why I have wanted all this ozone, especially when it has takensuch an expenditure of money and time to procure it."

  "Yes, it has; but it is gone now. I no longer have any curiosity on thesubject. To-morrow morning I will have the full amount that you haverequested, 45,000 grains."

  "How much have I had already?"

  "In August, a year ago, you had about ninety grains, and in thefollowing October, a little over 1,500 more."

  "Yes; that was for the experiment with the cat." He had spoken withoutthinking.

  Colchis looked up, surprised; a curious expression came over his face,but he said nothing.

  "Yes," he continued, "I remember now. There were about 1,600 grainsmade by the old process. Had we been compelled to follow that method,we would never have completed our task."

  "True, my boy! It was a lucky day for you, I have no doubt, when we hitupon the idea we have since employed."

  "Come," said Cobb, "let us sit down. I have a little more to speak ofere we part for the night."

  They passed through the door into a smaller but neater room.

  The furniture was plain and scarce, but the fire in the grate gave theroom an agreeable appearance. Colchis touched a button, and instantly abright light shone out from a pair of Edison lamps; then, handing Cobba glass and bottle, taken from a pile of books and papers on the table,he said:

  "Brighten up, Junius, with some of this old cognac; it is good, I canassure you, for we Frenchmen know what is good brandy. Had I a cigar,I would offer you one; but I do not smoke, so you will have to provideyourself with that article, if you smoke at all. Now, sit down," asCobb finished his glass of brandy, "and tell me what it is thatappears to worry you. Why are you so sad to-night?"

  "There is not much to tell, master, except that this will be my lastnight to pass with you, my dear old friend; I am going on a long anddangerous journey, one from which I will never return--that is, to myfriends now living. I go not to escape the consequences of any crime orwrong-doing, but to gratify my ambition alone. It would give me muchpleasure, much happiness, could I but take with me such a dear friendas you have been; but it cannot be. Do not look startled, dear Colchis;I am not going to commit suicide; and yet, again, I am--suicide asregards all present, but not as regards the future. I will say no more,nor must you ask me any questions. For your kindness, I have onlythanks to offer, unless you will confer a favor upon me by taking thischeck for $2,000 as a partial recompense for your labors in my behalf,"and he laid the check upon the table.

  Colchis arose from his chair, seized the check, and tore it into ahundred pieces; his eyes looked deep into those of his young friend,and then the tears came, and the old man sunk back into his chair.The friendship which had been so romantically begun between these twomen was then, by Cobb, to be ended, and the sore healed by a moneyconsideration!

  "Junius, I did not believe that you would insult me in this manner! Ourfriendship has been one of the brightest spots in my life. Let it endif it must, but let it end with the feeling that each has aided theother to the best of his ability, and without hope of other recompensethan the knowledge that the assistance was spontaneously and willinglygiven. You are about to embark in some new and great enterprise; ofthat I feel assured, yet I do not ask its import. If you must leave theold man, never again to see him--if you must sever the friendship thathas been a Godsend to the refugee from his native land--so be it; I cansay no word against it, believing you would not do it were it possibleto do otherwise. Let us say no more upon the subject. At six o'clockto-morrow morning send to me, and I will have the ozone ready to bedelivered to your man. There will be eight pounds of it, in as manybottles."

  "Then, there is nothing more for me to do but to take your hand, dear,kind old master, and bid you a lasting but sorrowful farewell. May agood God watch over you, Colchis, is the last wish of your friend andpupil. Good-bye!" and, saying this, Cobb pressed the old cripple to hisheart.

  "Good-bye! my darling boy," sobbed the old man. "But, Junius, doesMarie know this? The child loves you. She talks of you continually.Does she know you are going away forever?" and he put both hands on theshoulders of the young man and looked him in the eyes.

  "Ah! master, master! Like a coward, like a cur, am I running away! Ihave seen her! I have lied to her! lied, I tell you; lied to her! andbecause I had not strength to tell the truth!" He buried his face inhis hands, and sobbed like a child.

  "My son, cry not at what I am convinced you did for the best interestsof that dear girl. My faith in you is not shaken. Let God alone judgeour motives; mankind can do it not!"

  "O master! I cannot leave you in this manner! To leave you now withthe simple knowledge that I will never return, would be to provokeall manner of thoughts detrimental to my honesty and sincerity ofcharacter. You shall know all! I will confide in you my secret!"

  Then by the side of this grand old man, Cobb sat and told him of hisgreat undertaking, and of his love for his daughter.

  Half an hour after, the door opened, and Colchis, with a face grave andsad, called to his daughter Marie.

  Entering the room, she looked from one to the other, as if seeking someexplanation of the quiet, sad expression of each.

  Junius Cobb bowed his head, and the hot tears fell upon his hands.Colchis turned his face away.

  Quickly going to her lover, Marie knelt at his feet, and gently raisedhis head until their eyes met.

  "Do not cry, Junius; do not cry. I know you cannot help yourself.Duty calls you away, and you must go. Such, you have told me, is asoldier's fortune."

  He clasped her to his heart.

  "Marie," gravely and sadly spoke her father, "he leaves us to-night.When he returns, no man can tell. But let this comfort you: he hasasked for your hand; your heart, I know, is his already. I have givenmy consent, and gladly. Let him go to his duty cheerfully, and awaithis return. If you are constant in the love you profess as a girl,you shall marry Junius Cobb, or no other. I swear it, as I hope forsalvation hereafter," and he raised his hand toward Heaven in token ofhis oath.

  Cobb raised his eyes inquiringly to those of his friend.

  What did he mean by those words? Was he, too, imposing upon the girl'sinnocence? A strange light, a gleam of hope, of inspiration, shone inthe eyes of Jean Colchis as he once more bade Cobb good-bye, and leftthe room.

  Marie and Cobb were alone--alone for the last time: she, hopeful forthe future; he, broken-hearted from a knowledge of what that future wasto be.

  "Junius, my own," she murmured, "go, and do your duty. God be with you,as will always my prayers. But go with this knowledge: that I swear bythe God my mother taught me to adore, that I will wait till you come tome, will be true to you forever; will marry none on earth but you."

  How beautiful, heavenly beautiful, was this girl, standing there underthe electric light.

  None can tell the passions that moved that man's heart.

  Would he give up his great undertaking, and live and marry this Hebe,this angel? Too late! too late! The die was cast; he must meet hisdestiny!

  With an aching heart, he kissed her good-bye--kissed her good-bye, andforever.

  Into the chilly morning air he went, but there was no chill like thechill at his heart. Turning once toward the old house, he cried in hisanguish:

  "God watch over you and take you, for you are lost to me forever!"