“Why, dear?”
“You look worried. You make me feel anxious.”
“I’ve been worried about you, my darling, that’s all,” and he lied glibly to the sick woman.
Then there suddenly rose on the air a terrific sound, worse than the loudest peal of thunder, and the room was brilliantly lighted from without as though by a mighty fire. Mavis rose up in bed; her limbs were shaking and she drew the sleeping babe still closer to her breast. “What is it, what is it, Dez? No, no, don’t leave me,” as Desmond was about to leave the room. He put his arms about her and crooned to her as if she had been a baby. The noise was terrible—one long, mighty roar. The room shook with the vibration, and the light from without grew brighter and brighter.
Sir John entered. “Mavis, my dear, you mustn’t be frightened. Hector and Masters are launching the Argenta—we are going to take you up in her.”
“What is happening?”
“I don’t quite know, my dear, but Ben Lawers has broken out in flames. Schiehallion and Ben More in the distance are belching out heavy, dark smoke—I think it’s volcanic action. Now, we’ve talked the whole matter over, and we feel that the safest place is inside the airship.”
“But listen to the wind—could it live in such a storm?”
“It is the safest place,” said Sir John firmly. “We will carry you and baby down in a hammock. Nurse has already packed you a goodly store of clothes, and then we’ll all sail away to a more healthy spot.”
“Are you sure there’s no danger?”