"Yes—straight for Sicily."
She retired into her sleeping-cabin and disappeared. The Marchese Rivardi looked at Gaspard questioningly.
"We must obey her, I suppose?"
"We could not think of disobeying!" returned Gaspard.
"She is a strange woman!" and as he spoke Rivardi gripped his steering-gear with a kind of vindictive force—"It seems absurd that we,—two men of fair intelligence and scientific attainment,—should be ruled by her whim,—her fancies—for after all she is made up of fancies—"
Gaspard shook his finger warningly.
"This air-ship is not a 'whim' or a 'fancy'"—he said, impressively—"It is the most wonderful thing of its kind ever invented! If it is given to the world it will revolutionise the whole system of aerial navigation. Here we are, flying at top speed in perfect ease and safety with no engine—nothing to catch fire—nothing to break or bust—and the whole mechanism mysteriously makes its own motive power as it goes. Radio-activity it may be—but its condensation and use for such a purpose is the secret invention of a woman—and surely we must admit her genius! As for our obedience—ECCELLENZA, we are both royally paid to obey!"
Rivardi flushed red.
"I know!" he said, curtly—"I never forget it. But money is not everything."
Gaspard's mobile French face lit up with a mirthful smile.