that of his companion and they drained the glasses. “Hush, what was that?” asked Thorndyke.
There was a sound like boiling water outside and as if air were being pumped out of some receptacle, and the vessel began to move up and down in a lithe sort of fashion and to bend tortuously from side to side like a great sluggish fish. Through the partitions of glass they saw one of the men closing the door, and in a moment the vessel glided away from the shore. The men all sank into easy positions on the couches, and delightful music as soft as an Aeolian lyre seemed to be breathed from the walls and floor. Then the music seemed to die away and a bell down in the vessel's hull rang.
“We are in the middle of the lake,” said Thorndyke, looking through the glass toward the black cliffy shore; “the next thing will be our descent. I wonder——”
But he was unable to proceed, and Johnston noticed in alarm that his eyes were slightly protruding from their sockets. The air seemed suddenly to become more compact as if compressed, and the water was set into such violent commotion that it was dashed against the glass sides in billows as white as snow. Then Johnston found that he could not breathe freely, and he understood the trouble of the Englishman.
Captain Tradmos came suddenly to the door. He was smiling as he motioned toward the wines on the table.
“You had better drink more of the wine,” he advised sententiously.
Both of the captives rushed to the table. The instant they had swallowed the wine they felt relieved, but were still weak. The captain bowed and went away. Thorndyke's hand trembled as he refilled his friend's glass. “I thought I was gone up,” he said, “I never had such a choky sensation in my life; you are still purple in the face.”
“Eat of what is before you,” said the captain, looking in at the door; “you cannot stand the increasing pressure unless you do.”
They needed no second invitation, for they were half-famished. The fish and meat were delicious, and the bread was delightfully sweet.
“Look outside!” cried Johnston. The water was now still, but it was gradually rising up the sides of the boat, and in a moment it had closed over the crystal roof. Both of the captives were conscious of a heavy sensation in the head and a dull roaring in the ears. Down they went, at first slowly and then more rapidly, till it seemed to them that they had descended over a thousand feet. Great monsters like whales swam to the vessel, as if attracted by the lights, and their massive bodies jarred against the glass walls as they turned to swim away. They sank about five hundred feet lower; and all at once the lights went out, and the boat gradually stopped.
It was at once so dark that the two captives could not see each other, though only the width of the table separated them. Everything was profoundly still; not a sound came from the men in the other rooms. Presently Thorndyke whispered, “Look, do you see that red light overhead?”
“Yes,” said Johnston, “it looks like a star.”
“It is our bonfire,” said Thorndyke, “that's what betrayed us.”
Again the vessel began to sink, and more rapidly than ever; indeed, as Thorndyke expressed it, he had the cool feeling that nervous people experience in going down quickly in an elevator.
“If we go any lower,” he added, as the great rubber hull seemed to struggle like some living monster, “the sides of this thing will collapse like an egg-shell and we will be as flat as pancakes.”
“You need not fear, we have much lower to go!” It was the captain's voice, but they could not tell from whence it came. Then they heard again the seductive music, and it was so soothing that they soon fell asleep.
They had no idea how long they had slept, but they were awakened by the ringing of a bell and felt the vessel was coming to a stop. They were still far beneath the surface; indeed, the boat was resting on the bottom, for in the light of two or three powerful search-lights they saw a wide succession of submerged hills, vales, and rugged cliffs. Before them was a great mountain-side and in it they saw the mouth of a dark tunnel. They had scarcely noticed it before the vessel rose a little and glided toward the tunnel and entered it. Through the glass walls they could see that it was narrow, and that the ragged sides and roof were barely far enough apart to admit them.
Suddenly one of the men came in and drew a curtain down behind them, and, with a vexed look on his face retired.
When he was gone Johnston put his lips close to Thorndyke's ear and whispered:
“Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Just as he drew the curtain down I saw what looked to me like a cliff of solid gold. It had been dug out into a cavern in which I saw a vessel like this, and men in diving suits digging and loading it.”
This took the Englishman's breath away for a moment, then he remarked: “That accounts for the heel-tap we found; who knows, these people may be possessors of the richest gold and silver mines on earth.”
The bell rang again. “We are rising,” said Johnston. “If this is the only way of reaching the king's domain, we could never get back to civilization unless they release us of their own accord, that's certain!”
“Heavens, isn't it still!” exclaimed the Englishman. “The machinery of this thing moves as noiselessly as the backbone of an eel. I wish I could understand its works.”
“I am more concerned about where we are going. I tell you we are being taken to some wonderful place. People who can construct such marvels of mechanical skill as this boat will not be behind in other things; then look at the physiques of those giants.”
Just then the man who had drawn down the shade came in and raised it. Both the captives pretended to be uninterested in his movements, but when he had withdrawn they looked through the glass eagerly.
“See,” whispered Thorndyke, in the ear of his companion, “the walls are close to us, and are as perpendicular as those of the lake in which they found us.”
Johnston said nothing. His attention was riveted to the walls of rock; the vessel was rising rapidly. An hour passed. The soft music had ceased, and the air seemed less dense and fresher. Then the waters suddenly parted over the roof and ran in crystal streams down the oval glass.
They were on the surface, and the vessel was slowly gliding toward the shore which could not be seen owing to there now being no light except that inside the boat. Captain Tradmos entered, followed by two of his men holding black silken bandages.
“We must blindfold you,” he said; “captives are not allowed to see the entrance to our kingdom.”
Without a word they submitted.
“This way,” said the captain kindly, and, holding to an arm of each, he piloted them out of the vessel to the shore. Then he led them through what they imagined to be a long stone corridor or arcade from the ringing echoes of their feet on the stone pavement. Presently they came to what seemed to be an elevator, for when they had entered it and sat down, they heard a metallic door slide back into its place, and they descended quickly.
They could form no idea as to the distance they went down; but Thorndyke declared afterward that it was over ten thousand feet. When the elevator stopped Captain Tradmos led them out, and both of the captives were conscious of breathing the purest, most invigorating air they had ever inhaled. Instantly their strength returned, and they felt remarkably buoyant as they were led along over another pavement of polished stone.
Tradmos laughed. “You like the atmosphere?”
“I never heard of anything like it,” said Thorndyke. “It is so delightful I can almost taste it.”
“It was that which made Alpha what it is—the most wonderful country in the universe,” said the officer. “There is much in store for you.”
The ears of the two captives were greeted by a vague, indefinable hum, like and yet unlike that of a busy city.