Produced by Anne Soulard, Suzanne Shell, William Craig,Robert Laporte, Steen Christensen and the Online DistributedProofreading Team
DAYBREAK
A ROMANCE OF AN OLD WORLD
By James Cowan
"HE MADE THE STARS ALSO"]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. AN ASTRONOMER ROYAL.
CHAPTER II. A FALLEN SATELLITE.
CHAPTER III. TWO MEN IN THE MOON.
CHAPTER IV. AND ONE WOMAN.
CHAPTER V. OUR INTRODUCTION TO MARS.
CHAPTER VI. A REMARKABLE PEOPLE.
CHAPTER VII. RAPID TRANSIT ON MARS.
CHAPTER VIII. THORWALD PUZZLED.
CHAPTER IX. THORWALD AS A PROPHET.
CHAPTER X. MORE WORLDS THAN TWO.
CHAPTER XI MARS AS IT IS.
CHAPTER XII. WE REACH THORWALD'S HOME.
CHAPTER XIII. A MORNING TALK.
CHAPTER XIV. PROCTOR SHOWS US THE EARTH.
CHAPTER XV. A NIGHT ADVENTURE.
CHAPTER XVI. AN UNLIKELY STORY.
CHAPTER XVII. THE DOCTOR IS CONVINCED.
CHAPTER XVIII. STRUCK BY A COMET.
CHAPTER XIX. I DISCOVER THE SINGER.
CHAPTER XX. A WONDERFUL REVELATION.
CHAPTER XXI. A LITTLE ANCIENT HISTORY.
CHAPTER XXII. AGAIN THE MOON.
CHAPTER XXIII. WE SEARCH FOR MONA.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE PICTURE TELEGRAPH.
CHAPTER XXV. AN UNSATISFACTORY LOVER.
CHAPTER XXVI. AN ENVIABLE CONDITION.
CHAPTER XXVII. THE CHILDREN'S DAY.
CHAPTER XXVIII. BUSINESS ETHICS.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE INDUSTRIAL PROBLEM.
CHAPTER XXX. ATTEMPTS TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM.
CHAPTER XXXI. WINE-DRINKING IN MARS.
CHAPTER XXXII. A GENUINE ACCIDENT.
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE EMANCIPATION OF WOMAN.
CHAPTER XXXIV. THE EMANCIPATION OF MAN.
CHAPTER XXXV. AN EXALTED THEME.
CHAPTER XXXVI. VANQUISHED AGAIN BY A VOICE.
CHAPTER XXXVII. UNTIL THE DAY BREAK.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. AND THE SHADOWS FLEE AWAY.
CHAPTER XXXIX. A SUDDEN RETURN TO THE EARTH.
POSTSCRIPT.
DAYBREAK:
A ROMANCE OF AN OLD WORLD
CHAPTER I.
AN ASTRONOMER ROYAL.
It was an evening in early autumn in the last year of the nineteenthcentury. We were nearing the close of a voyage as calm and peaceful asour previous lives.
Margaret had been in Europe a couple of years and I had just been overto bring her home, and we were now expecting to reach New York in a dayor two.
Margaret and I were the best of friends. Indeed, we had loved each otherfrom our earliest recollection. No formal words of betrothal had everpassed between us, but for years we had spoken of our future marriage asnaturally as if we were the most regularly engaged couple in the world.
"Walter," asked Margaret in her impulsive way, "at what temperature doesmercury melt?"
"Well, to hazard a guess," I replied, "I should say about one degreeabove its freezing point. Why, do you think of making an experiment?"
"Yes, on you. And I am going to begin by being very frank with you. Youhave made me a number of hurried visits during my stay in Europe, but wehave seen more of each other in the course of this voyage than for twolong years. I trust you will not be offended when I say I hoped to findyou changed. I have never spoken to you about this, even in my letters,and it is only because I am a little older now, and because my love foryou has increased with every day of life, that I have the courage toframe these words."
"Do tell me what it is," I exclaimed, thoroughly alarmed at her seriousmanner. "Let me know how I have disappointed you and I will make whatamends I can. Tell me the nature of the change you have been looking forand I will begin the transformation at once, before my character becomesfixed."
"Alas! and if it should be already fixed," she replied, without a smile."Perhaps it is unreasonable in me to expect it in you as a man, when youhad so little of it as a boy; but I used to think it was only shynessthen, and always hoped you would outgrow that and gradually become anideal lover. You have such a multitude of other perfections, however,that it may be nature has denied you this so that I may be reminded thatyou are human. If the choice had been left with me I think I shouldhave preferred to leave out some other quality in the make-up of yourcharacter, good as they all are."
"What bitter pill is this," I asked, "that you are sugar-coating to suchan extent? Don't you see that I am aching to begin the improvement in mymanners, as soon as you point out the direction?"
"You must know what I mean from my first abrupt question," she answered."To make an extreme comparison, frozen mercury is warm beside you,Walter. If you are really to be loyal knight of mine I must send you ona quest for your heart."
"Ah, I supposed it was understood that I had given it to you."
"I have never seen it," she continued, "and you have never before saidas much as is contained in those last words. Here we are, talking ofmany things we shall do after we are married, and yet you have nothingto say of all that wonderful and beautiful world of romance that oughtto come before marriage. Is this voyage to come to an end and mean nomore to us than to these hundreds of passengers around us, who seem onlyintent to get back to their work at the earliest possible moment? And isour wedding day to approach and pass and be looked upon merely as partof the necessary and becoming business of our lives? In short, am Inever to hear a real love note?"
"Margaret, I have a sister. You know something of the depth of myaffection for her. When I meet her in New York to-morrow or next day,if I should throw my arms around her neck and exclaim, in impassionedtones, 'My sister, I love you,' what would she think of me?"
"She would think you had left your senses on the other side," repliedMargaret, laughing. "But I decline to accept the parallel. I have notgiven up my heart to your keeping these many years to be only a sisterto you at last."
"But my mother! Is it possible for me to love you more than my motherloved me? And yet I never heard her speak one word on the subject, and,now that I think of it, I am not sure but words would have cheapened heraffection in my mind. You do not doubt me, Margaret?"
"No more than you doubted your mother, although she never told herlove. No, it is not so serious as that; but I wish you were moredemonstrative, Walter."
"What, in words? Isn't there something that speaks louder than words?"
"Yes, but let us hear the words, too. There is a beautiful proverb inIndia which says, 'Words are the daughters of earth and deeds are thesons of heaven.' That is true, but let us not try to pass through lifewithout enjoying the company of some of the 'daughters of earth.'"
"I will confess this much, Margaret, that your words are one of yourprincipal charms."
"Oh, do you really think so? I consider that a great compliment fromyou, for I have often tried to repress myself, fearing that my impulsiveand sometimes passionate speech would offend your taste, you who areoutwardly so cold. Do you know, I have a whole vocabulary of endearingterms ready to be poured into your ears as soon as you begin to give meencouragement?"
"Then teach me how to encourage you, and I will certainly begin at once.Shall we seek some retired spot, where we can be free from observation,and then shall I seize your hand, fall on my knees, and, in vehement andextravagant words, declare a passion which you already know I have, justas well as you know I am breathing at this moment?"
"Good!" cried Margaret. "That's almost as fine as the real scene. So youhave a passion for me. I really think you are improving."
Before going on with this conver
sation, let me tell you a little moreabout Margaret and my relations to her.
There was good cause for her complaint. I was at that time a sortof animated icicle, as far as my emotional nature was concerned. Butalthough I could not express my feelings to Margaret in set phrase, I donot mind saying to you that I loved her dearly, or thought I did, whichwas the same thing for the time being. I loved her as well as I wascapable of loving anybody. What I lacked Margaret more than made up, forshe was the warmest-hearted creature in all the world. If I should beginto enumerate her perfections of person and character I should never careto stop.
Her educational advantages had been far above the average, and she hadimproved them in a manner to gratify her friends and create for herselfabundant mental resources. She had taken the full classical course atHarvard, carrying off several of the high prizes, had then enjoyed twoyears of post-graduate work at Clark, and finally spent two more yearsin foreign travel and study. As has been intimated, I had been over forher, and we were now on our way home, expecting to land on the morrow orthe day after.
If you imagine that Margaret had lost anything by her education orwas less fitted to make a good home, it is because you never knewher. Instead of being stunted in her growth, broken in constitution,round-shouldered, pale-faced and weak-eyed, the development of her bodyhad kept pace with the expansion of her mind, and she was now in theperfect flower of young womanhood, with body and soul both of generousmold. Her marvelous beauty had been refined and heightened by herintellectual culture, and even her manners, so charming before, werenow more than ever the chaste and well-ordered adornments of a noblecharacter. She was as vivacious and sparkling as if she had neverknown the restraints of school, but without extravagance of any kind todetract from her self-poise. In short, she was a symphony, a grand andharmonious composition, and still human enough to love a mortal like me.Such was the woman who was trying to instill into my wooing a little ofthe warmth and sympathy of her delightful nature. As for myself, it willbe necessary to mention only a single characteristic. I had a remarkablygood ear, as we say. Not only was my sense of hearing unusually acute,but I had an almost abnormal appreciation of musical sounds. Althoughwithout the ability to sing or play and without the habit of applicationnecessary to learn these accomplishments, I was, from my earliest years,a great lover of music. People who are born without the power of nicelydiscriminating between sounds often say they enjoy music, but theseexcellent people do not begin to understand the intense pleasure withwhich one listens, whose auricular nerves are more highly developed. Butthis rare and soul-stirring enjoyment is many times accompanied, as inmy case, with acute suffering whenever the tympanum is made to resoundwith the slightest discord. The most painful moments of my life,physically speaking, have been those in which I have been forced tolisten to diabolical noises. A harsh, rasping sound has often given me apang more severe than neuralgia, while even an uncultivated voice or aninstrument out of tune has jarred on my sensitive nerves for hours.
My musical friends all hated me in their hearts, for my peculiarity mademe a merciless critic; and the most serious youthful quarrel betweenMargaret and myself arose from the same cause. Nature had given Margareta voice of rare sweetness and a fine musical taste, and her friendshad encouraged her in singing from her youth. One day, before she hadreceived much instruction, she innocently asked me to listen to a songshe was studying, when I was cruel enough to laugh at her and ridiculethe idea of her ever learning to sing correctly. This rudeness made suchan impression on her girlish mind that, although she forgave the offenseand continued to love the offender, she could never be induced again totry her vocal powers before me. All through her school and college daysshe devoted some attention to music, and while I heard from others muchabout her advancement and the extraordinary quality of her voice, shealways declared she would never sing for me until she was sure she couldput me to shame for my early indiscretion, so painfully present in hermemory. This became in time quite a feature of our long courtship, forI was constantly trying to have her break her foolish resolution andlet me hear her. Although unsuccessful, the situation was not without apleasurable interest for me, for I knew it must end some time, and ina way, no doubt, to give me great enjoyment, judging from the accountswhich came to my ears. Margaret, too, was well satisfied to let theaffair drift along indefinitely, while she anticipated with delight thesurprise she was preparing for me.
During the years she had just been spending abroad a good share of hertime had been given to her musical studies, principally vocal culture,and in her letters she provokingly quoted, for my consideration, theflattering comments of her instructors and other acquaintances. Shedid this as part of my punishment, trying to make me realize how muchpleasure I was losing. Each time I crossed the ocean to visit her Iexpected she would relent, but I was as often disappointed; and now thishomeward voyage had almost come to an end, and I had never heard hervoice in song since she was a child. Open and unreserved as she was bynature, in this particular she had schooled herself to be as reticentand undemonstrative as she accused me of being.
Our talk on the subject of my shortcomings, that evening on shipboard,had not continued much longer before I acknowledged in plain languagethat I knew my fault and was ready to cooperate in any scheme that couldbe suggested to cure it.
"What you need," said Margaret, "is some violent sensation, someextraordinary experience to stir your soul."
"Yes," I answered, "my humdrum life, my wealth, which came to me withoutany effort of my own, and the hitherto almost unruffled character of myrelations with you have all conspired to make me satisfied with an easyand rather indolent existence. I realize I need a shaking up. I wantto forget myself in some novel experience, which shall engross all myattention for a time and draw upon my sympathies if I have any."
"But what can one do in 'this weak piping time of peace'? There are nomaidens to be rescued from the enchantments of the wizard, and it is nolonger the fashion to ride forth with sword and halberd to murder in thename of honor all who oppose themselves. No more dark continents waitto be explored, neither is there novelty left in searching the ocean'sdepths nor in sailing the sky above us. Civilized warfare itself, theonly field remaining where undying fame may be purchased, seems likelyto lose its hold on men, and soon the arbitrator will everywhere replacethe commander-in-chief and the noble art of war will degenerate into theignoble lawsuit. So even universal peace may have its drawbacks."
"That is quite sufficient in that line," said Margaret. "Now let us comedown to something practicable."
"Well, I might bribe the pilot to sink the steamer when we are going upthe bay, so that I could have the opportunity of saving your life."
"It would be almost worth the trial if it were not for the otherpeople," she returned. "Such a role would become you immensely."
"I regret that I cannot accommodate you," I said. "But I have thoughtof something which would be rather safer for you. How would you like tohave me fall desperately in love with some pretty girl?"
"Just the thing," exclaimed Margaret, laughing and clapping her hands,"if you can only be sure she will not return your passion."
"Small chance of that," I answered. "So you approve the plan, do you?"
"Certainly, if you care to try it. Lady never held knight against hiswill. But have you forgotten that, after the resources of this planetare exhausted, as you seem to think they are soon likely to be, youand I have other worlds to conquer? Perhaps in that work you may finddiversion powerful enough to draw you out of yourself and, possibly,opportunities for some heart culture."
I must explain that this was a reference to a plan of life we weremarking out for ourselves. Margaret was an enthusiast on the subjectof astronomy. I would include myself in the same remark, only the wordenthusiast did not fit my temperament at that time. But our tastesagreed perfectly in that matter, and we had always read with avidityeverything we could find on the subject. Margaret, however, was thestudent, and as she had developed great profi
ciency in mathematics, shehad decided to make astronomy her profession.
It was understood that I was to perform the easier part of furnishingthe money for an observatory and instruments of our own, and I wasdetermined to keep pace with Margaret in her studies as well as I couldin an amateurish way, so that she might be able to retain me as anassistant. We were to be married at sunrise sharp, on the first day ofthe next century, and to lay the corner-stone of our observatory atthe exact moment of the summer solstice of the same year. These wereMargaret's suggestions, but even I was not averse to letting my friendssee I had a little sentiment.
That night I dreamed of almost everything we had been talking about, butlay awake at intervals, wondering if I could, by force of will, work outthe reform in my character which Margaret desired. The night passed,and it was just as I was rising that a thought flashed upon me whichI determined to put into execution at the first opportunity. This cameearly the next evening. As we expected to reach our wharf soon, we hadfinished our packing, and were now sitting alone in a retired spot ondeck on the starboard side. As soon as we were comfortably arranged Isaid to my companion:
"Margaret, as this is the last evening of this voyage, it makes an epochin our lives. Your school days are now over, and henceforth we hopeto be together. Would not this be a most appropriate time for me to beintroduced to a voice with which I propose to spend the rest of my life?Last night you were anxious to think of something which would arouse mydormant heart and draw out in more passionate expression my too obscureaffections. Your words haunted my sleeping and waking thoughts untilit fortunately occurred to me that you yourself had the very means foraccomplishing my reformation. You know how impressionable I am to everywave of sound. Who knows but your voice, which I am sure will be thesweetest in the world to me, may be the instrument destined to stirmy drowsy soul, to loose my halting tongue, and even to force my proudknees to bend before you? In short, why not adopt my suggestion, breakyour long-kept resolution, and sing for me this moment? Is the possibleresult not worth the trial?" To this long address, which was a greateffort for me, Margaret answered:
"You surprise me already, Walter. If the mere thought of hearing me singcan prompt such a sentimental speech as that, what would the song itselfdo? Perhaps it would drive you to the other extreme, and you wouldbecome gushing. Just think of that. But, seriously, I am afraid youwould laugh at my voice and send me back to Germany. When you weretalking I thought I could detect an undercurrent of fun in your words."
"I assure you I was never more in earnest in my life, and I am sorry youwill not sing. Is your answer final?"
"I think I will wait a little longer. We are liable to be disturbedhere. And now that you have made a start, perhaps you will improve inmanners becoming a lover without any more help."
"No, I shall relapse and be worse than ever. Now is your time to help mefind my heart."
Without answering, Margaret sprang up impulsively, exclaiming:
"There! I have forgotten that book the professor borrowed. Men neverreturn anything. I must go and get it, and put it into my bag. And I hadbetter run down and see if auntie wants anything. You stay right here;don't move, and I'll be back in just three minutes."