“I am this boy’s uncle; I ventured to accompany my friend Mayne on the chance that I might be of use. I hope you have good news of the young lady?”
“Your daughter is alive and well,” said Mary Faust, turning to Mayne. “But she is gone on a long journey. I would have notified you at once, but delayed in the hope of being able to fix the time of her return. That however is still uncertain.”
“Some little accident, I understand?” said Sam cheerfully.
“I will outline what took place,” she replied. “This machine combines material with spiritual forces in a way not hitherto attempted. It separates these components in man, and directs the immaterial part to any point selected; the physical body remains here, entranced, pending the reunion. Other planets of our system may thus be visited at will.”
Mayne probably understood nothing of this. Sam had followed her keenly.
“I’ve been something of a traveler myself,” he remarked, “and after bringing my explorations on this globe to an end, I adventured, through my telescope, into other fields. I had looked forward to a time when we might communicate intelligently with our planetary neighbors, but there is novelty in your plan. But supposing you to have arrived at your destination, divested of your mortal body, how would you make yourself manifest in a practical way to the mortal people out there?”
“A natural law, of which I am the discoverer, covers that difficulty,” the scientist answered. “The spirit of an inhabitant of any earth, on reaching another, is spontaneously clothed with a body proper to that globe, and, of course, endowed with its language. This has long been known to me; but only recently, and with your daughter’s assistance,” she added to Mayne, “have we succeeded in effecting actual transference from one to another.”
“How far away is my little gal gone, ma’am?” demanded Mayne, in a faltering voice.
“Whether the distance covered be a mile or millions of miles, the principle is the same, and the distance is unimportant,” she replied. “The planet Saturn, where she is now a guest, is between eight and nine hundred million miles from where we stand.”
Mayne dropped into a chair with a groan, and even Paladin arched his eyebrows. Jim, for whom such figures had no significance, was busy investigating the parts of the machine. Jack had sunk into a profound meditation, and was perhaps as remote from the circle as Miriam herself. His uncle was the first to speak.