ON AN ISLAND IN THE AIR
The stern and uncompromising statement of Professor Henderson relating to the awful fate that had overtaken his friends and Phineas Roebach was so uncompromising—almost brutal—that not a word was spoken for several minutes.
Even Washington White was dumb. The fact that the fragment of the earth on which they were imprisoned was floating miles above the globe, in the rarified atmosphere of the outer universe, and that they were at that moment able to look up and see the great, calm, palely glowing sphere which had been their home, rolling across the arch above them—all this was too awful a mystery to be grasped immediately by the professor's companions.
Jack Darrow, whose mind was the keenest of any, was the first to break the depressing silence. And he spoke in an awed tone that showed how fully he realized the horror of their situation, if nothing more.
"Then, Professor, we are at the mercy of Chance—at any moment this fragment of the earth may fall again—or be propelled into the sun?"
"We are in the hands of Providence, my boy," replied Professor
Henderson, reverently.
"The fact remains that we are totally unable to help ourselves," said Jack, firmly. "Even could we repair the Snowbird, and get her out of this crack in the ice, we could not fly to the earth. Between us and the earth lies a portion of the universe that has no atmosphere—no breathable air—like that envelope which surrounds the moon. Am I right?"
"Practically correct, I believe, Jack," responded the aged scientist.
"But," cried Mark, at last getting his speech, "how can such a thing be possible? Blown off the earth! Why, we'd simply go up in the air and come down again."
"Now you're talking sense, young fellow," muttered Roebach, still rubbing his head as though stunned.