Mr. Sturritt nodded eagerly.
“And you, Johnnie,” as I referred again to the possible inhabitants in the undiscovered world.
“And Mr. Ferratoni is not to be left out,” answered Miss Gale. “Mr. Chase says that a wireless telephone is the one thing needed to make his plan perfect.”
“To keep the balloon in communication with the ship, in event of our making the voyage overland would be of the greatest advantage,” I admitted, “if it can be done.”
Ferratoni’s face flushed.
“Yes, oh, yes,” he said anxiously, “it can be done. It is the chance.”
“And would you be willing to go on a voyage like that, and leave behind your opportunities of recognition and fortune?” I asked.
Ferratoni’s face grew even more beautiful.
“Fortune? Recognition?” He spoke musically, and his English was almost perfect. “It is not those that I would care for. It is the pursuing of the truth, the great Truth! Electricity—it is but one vibration. There are yet many others—thought, life, soul! Wireless communication—the answering of electric chords—it’s but a step toward the fact, the proving of the Whole Fact. To-day we speak without wires across the city. Later, we shall speak across the world. Still later, between the worlds—perhaps even—yes, yes, I will go! I have but shown the little step. I would have the time and place to continue. And then the new world too—yes, oh, yes, I will go, of a certainty!”
A respectful silence had fallen upon the table. Chauncey Gale’s face showed thoughtful interest. Mr. Biffer was evidently impressed. Me he had regarded as a crazy land-lubber with fool notions of navigation. In Ferratoni he acknowledged a man of science—a science he did not understand and therefore regarded with reverence and awe. Edith Gale’s face wore the exalted expression which always gave it its greatest beauty. For myself, I had been far from unmoved by Ferratoni’s words. I felt that it would be hard to feel jealousy for a man like that, and still harder not to do so. Gale recovered first, and turned to me.