"But you will be forced to try again."
"And it will fail—again. Ach, so! I would rather unship my plant, and fling my models to the bottom of the sea, where they may help to light up the world of crabs, than that my Government should acquire one single added threat against humanity."
The next few moments were silently occupied in lighting their cigars. Ruxton had no words with which to answer him. He was thinking deeply, comparing this man's attitude towards the country which claimed him with his own feelings for his island home. He wondered what his attitude would have been had their positions been reversed; if he, as an Englishman, had been such a power, through his discoveries, for aiding his country. To his shame he was forced to the conclusion that this white-haired Pole was a greater man than he could ever hope to be.
The difference between them lay in the difference between a perfervid patriotism, and the Prince's overwhelming love of humanity inspired by the abyss of horror into which a blind devotion to his country had flung him. This man had passed the great dividing line where the uplifted spirit renounces the claims of earthly passion in favor of the call of the voice of the soul. The cause of humanity now dominated every other emotion. Somehow his own fervor of patriotism suffered severely by the comparison, and so he found himself with no words in which to answer.
The old man rose from his chair and passed into his private stateroom. A few moments later he returned with two rolls of papers, neatly secured by tapes and seals.
He had closed the door. He was about to cross over to his guest. But in a moment he was held rigid where he stood. A dull boom roared out somewhere overhead and vibrated down the entire length of the vessel.
His eyes were wide and attentive. But there was no fear in them. Ruxton started up from the lounge on which he had been sitting. A thrilling excitement shone in his eyes.
"Is it a—mine?" he cried sharply.
The Prince shook his head.
"There would be nothing of us left at this moment," he said. "Wait! You can feel the steady throb of the engines. No, it was a gun. It was a bursting shell from one of the silent guns. They can see our periscope, and are firing across us—to heave to. Hark! There goes another."