“I can help myself, Lockyer,” he snapped out; “not too old for that yet. So to-day is the day that you are going to launch that insane myth of yours—the cruising submarine?”
“It is, Mr. Pangloss,” rejoined the inventor, “and I feel very much flattered that you have decided to be present on the occasion.”
“Oh, you have to thank me for that,” flashed the young woman with a radiant smile. “I told you we would not fail you, and you see we haven’t.”
“Thank you,” breathed the inventor, in a low tone. “I felt sure you would be here if it were possible. You, at least, have always believed in me.”
“And so will dad when the Lockyer is afloat,” laughed the young woman gaily. “James,” she went on, turning to the chauffeur, “get that basket out of the tonneau. You see, Mr. Lockyer,” she smiled, “I have not forgotten that I am to christen the boat, and we have brought the baptismal font with us.”
“Hum,” remarked Lieutenant Parry, turning to Midshipman Stark, “there’s Lockyer’s romance. It’s easy to see that.”
“Well, I hope he wins out,” was the rejoinder. “He’s a good fellow and she is one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. But her father—for I guess the old man is her father—doesn’t seem to approve.”
Indeed the old man had been stamping about the yard, poking at castings and odd bits of machinery with his cane, and asking sharp questions of the different workmen. Presently Mr. Lockyer introduced his guests as Miss Vivian Pangloss and her father, Peregrine Pangloss. The girl smiled gracefully through the introductions, but her father, on the other hand, seemed anxious to assert his entire disbelief in the submarine and all who had anything to do with it.
“It’s nonsense, gentlemen, nonsense!” he asserted emphatically. “Man’s place in nature is on the earth or on the surface of the waters. He has no business either to fly in the air or to dive under the ocean.”
“In that event you would naturally limit human progress,” put in Lieutenant Parry.