Barton's family consisted of a wife, two strapping sons, who were hunters and trappers, and a daughter. The daughter's name was Jennie, aged eighteen. She was a strong, healthy, beautiful girl. Nothing could exceed the loveliness of her skin, the whiteness of her even teeth, or the graceful shapeliness of her form. Mrs. Jones and Mattie were immediately drawn to her. She met their advances freely and frankly, though her manners showed at once that she was not accustomed to such society. But she was so unaffectedly sweet and pure that the two ladies loved her all the better for her unsophistication. Mrs. Barton was an invalid, and they did not see her that evening.

After a bountiful supper the whole party drew up to a vast fireplace. In it roared a huge fire, for the night was very cold and frosty. For a time the air-ship and the object of their voyage was discussed. The admiration of Barton and the inhabitants of Constance House for the globe was unbounded. The wind had lulled away to a very gentle breeze, and the superlatively splendid globe hung above them so majestically, and glistened so beautifully in the moonlight, that it is not wonderful that these people, who saw and knew so little of the outside world, should be struck dumb with wonder and astonishment as they looked upon it.

"I must say," said Barton, "that I never experienced such sensations in my life as I did when your ship hove in sight. I have been mate of some good ships in my time, and have traveled over a good portion of the earth. I have seen many strange sights on land and sea, but this beats them all by so much that I shall never mention them again. And you are going to make the North Pole beyond a peradventure. Nothing could please me so well as to make one of your party. But my poor, poor wife!" He dropped his face into his hands, and tears trickled down upon his massive grey beard. The two sons and Jennie also participated in their father's grief.

"What is the matter with your wife?" asked Mrs. Jones, very gently. "Perhaps Dr. Jones might do something for her."

"No, no, madam; her case is a hopeless one. I took her down to Montreal last year, and the best medical men there were consulted. They could do absolutely nothing for her, and I have brought her home to die. I wanted to stay there with her, where she could have more of the comforts of life, but she preferred to come back to Constance House."

"While I know nothing of the nature of your wife's disease, yet I will say that I have cured many cases of so-called incurables. It is not that I know more of the nature of disease than the average physician, but I use drugs that they know nothing of, will not investigate, look at, nor even touch with the longest of tongs," said Dr. Jones.

"But, Doctor, my wife's case is cancer. They showed me the latest and best authorities, and they invariably gave what they called an 'unfavorable prognosis.' You would not undertake to say that this fearful disease is curable, would you?" cried Barton, very earnestly.

The Doctor saw that he had a very intelligent and well-informed man to deal with. He had conceived a liking for the grand old man, and desired, with all his good and kindly heart, to help this noble family in its distress and isolation from the civilized world. So he said slowly and impressively:

"Mr. Barton, I came to you this afternoon like a messenger from the skies. The way in which I came, and the ship in which I sailed, ought to entitle my word to some weight with you. Now I am going to say this: I have cured cancers, and believe that a large percentage of them are curable. I would like to see your wife, and if I can do anything for her, I shall be glad to do it."

"I thank you, Dr. Jones, with all my heart. Come right in with me," and Barton led the way to his wife's room. Half an hour later the Doctor came from the sick room, went out, jumped into the cage and mounted to the globe. He returned in a few moments and said: "I have here medicine, Mr. Barton, that is certain to do your wife a great amount of good. And I am quite positive that it will work a perfect cure. Her symptoms point so unmistakably and pronouncedly to a certain remedy that I feel safe in assuring you of immediate relief. I shall be much surprised if you do not see less pain, burning, restlessness, thirst—in short, a decidedly better night than she has known for months."

Constance House was not prepared with sleeping accommodations for so large a company of visitors, and at ten o'clock they mounted to the ship for the night. At seven o'clock on the following morning they all descended again and partook of the substantial breakfast prepared for them by Jennie, with the help of a half-breed Indian girl.

The surprise and delight of the family was immeasurable at the palliative effects of Dr. Jones' medicine. Mrs. Barton had rested quite comfortably nearly all night, a thing that she had not done in many months. Barton grasped the Doctor's hand when he first appeared in the morning, and could not speak for emotion.

"That is all right, Mr. Barton; just what I expected."

"Doctor, you have inspired me with a degree of hope that I never expected to know again. Do you really think you can cure her?"

"Mr. Barton, I will just reiterate what I said to you last night: I have seen some astonishing cures done by the remedy indicated by the symptoms, and in what we call a 'high potency.' I cannot stop to explain all this to you, but you can rest assured that it is the only help or hope for your wife. Anxious though I am to be off toward our destination, yet I am going to stop over and study your wife's symptoms more closely, and leave you medicines with written directions as to their use."

The joy of the Barton family was unbounded at this announcement of the benevolent Doctor.

After breakfast, Denison, Fred, and Will decided to accompany the Barton boys up the river that flowed near Constance House, visiting their traps.

"What game do you have in this country?" asked Denison.

"We have reindeer, bear, wolves, foxes, hare, marten, otter, and in the spring and summer we have an abundance of geese, ducks, etc.," replied Joe, the elder of the boys. Sam was the younger of the brothers, and they were aged twenty-three and twenty-one years respectively. The voyagers were surprised at the correctness of their speech and other indications of education.

"Our mother is an educated woman, and has taken great pains with our education," said Sam in reply to a remark of Denison upon the subject. "And she has done as much for father. Our long winter nights we always spend in reading, music, and sometimes in such games as chess, backgammon, drafts, etc. Mother is a most splendid mathematician. She is also quite a linguist. But I am afraid that mother's days of teaching are over in this world. Dr. Jones is exceedingly kind, but do you really think that he has any hopes of curing her?" And the two sons looked anxiously into Denison's face as they awaited his reply.

"Well," replied Denison slowly, as if carefully weighing his words, "I have known Dr. Jones more than twenty years very intimately, and I tell you candidly that you may rely implicitly upon his word. He is a physician of remarkable skill, and to my positive knowledge has cured several cases of cancer that had been, like your mother's, given up as incurable. So I should hope a great deal if he gives you encouragement."

"God is good, and has heard our prayers," said Sam.

While this party spent the day until the middle of the afternoon paddling from trap to trap, capturing three otters, and catching several dozen beautiful trout and black bass, the Doctor and the Professor ascended with Mr. Barton to the ship. As he passed through the elegant rooms of the cabin, and saw the wonderful degree of comfort, and even luxury, that our voyagers were enjoying, he cried out, like the Queen of Sheba, "The half was never told!" And the wonderful metal of which everything was composed where practicable—aluminum—excited his special interest.

"Without this metal you could never have made the trip," he declared. But when he had mounted the spiral stairway, and was standing in the observatory, for some time he was speechless. As his eye ran up the shining mast, then off over the glistening sides of the globe to the earth, three hundred feet below, then away over the trackless wastes of Labrador, he finally exclaimed, "This, gentlemen, is too wonderful for me. I cannot give expression to my feelings. If you had told me that you were visitors from Venus or Mars, I should be obliged to believe you."

And so they sat and discussed for an hour or more the object of the expedition, and the probability of success. All agreed that, so far as human thought and judgment could foresee, failure was hardly possible. They descended to the cabin. The aluminum mast especially attracted the attention of the old sailor.

"And you intend erecting this magnificent spar at the North Pole!" he exclaimed, all his sailor instincts thoroughly aroused. "How do you intend to manage that business, Doctor?"

"We shall be governed in that matter entirely by circumstances," replied Dr. Jones. "I do not know what we may find there, and so cannot say exactly what we may have to do. But I shall consider the trip a partial failure if I do not leave this stately shaft, exactly to the quarter of an inch, standing at the North Pole, with that aluminum flag flying at its peak, there to float till time shall be no more."

"Well, Doctor, I am a thoroughbred British subject, and can't help wishing that it was the Union Jack that you were going to leave there; but you deserve all the honor of the occasion, and I am glad to bid you Godspeed," said Barton heartily.

"Thank you," replied Dr. Jones, "now let us go down and see further about your wife's case. I must be off to-morrow morning, bright and early."

The Doctor and Barton repaired to the sick chamber. After nearly an hour they left the house, walked down to the river bank, and talked long and earnestly concerning the treatment of Mrs. Barton.

"I will tell you just what I am doing for your wife, and the grounds I have for hope. I think, under the circumstances, that an expose of the rationale of my treatment is due you, for two reasons, first, because I desire to give you a reason for the hope that is within me, and so make you as happy and comfortable as possible by filling you up with a lively faith; secondly, because I delight in instructing intelligent people in what I conceive to be the only rational and scientific system of medicine known to man.

"In this pocket-case book, you will observe that I have taken Mrs. Barton's symptoms very carefully and minutely:

"1. A fearful and apprehensive state of mind. She cannot tolerate being left alone.

"2. Intolerable thirst for cold water. Drinks often, and but a sip or two at a time.

"3. The pains are very sharp, lancinating, and burning.

"4. She is always worse at night, from twelve o'clock until two or three, A.M. The pains then are intolerable, and burning like red-hot iron, so that you are obliged to hold her in your arms to prevent her doing herself injury.

"5. Great restlessness.

"6. Skin yellow, or straw-colored, dry and wrinkled.

"7. Very emaciated and weak.

"There are quite a number of other symptoms of less importance, but all are found under but one drug in all the earth, and that drug is arsenic. Do not be alarmed at the name, for the doses I give are absolutely immaterial and can do no harm. But they do possess a curative power that is truly miraculous and past the comprehension of man. What gives me greater hope and confidence in your wife's case is the fact that she has never been under the surgeon's knife. Operations for cancer not only do no good whatever, but they reduce the patient's chances of cure, so that after the second or third one the case is rendered absolutely incurable. And another thing greatly in her favor is that she has taken but little medicine, and so I have been able to get a clear picture of the case. And I must strictly forbid the use of any drugs whatever, internally or externally, except what I give you."

"But, Doctor, the terrible odor!" said Barton, "Must I not use the disinfectant as I have been doing?"

"No; nothing but washing with warm castile soap-suds, two or three times daily. The odor will all disappear within a few days."

"Well, that is astonishing! And is arsenic the remedy for all cases of cancer?"

"Not by any manner of means. That is the great mistake of the medical world in all ages. They are continually on the lookout for specifics, or medicines that cure all cases of any given disease, irrespective of symptoms. Every case must be taken upon its individual merits, and differentiated upon symptomatology alone. And a drug must be prescribed that is indicated by the symptoms. Anything more or less than this is unscientific, and a contrariety to one of God's most beautiful and universal laws—'Similia similibus curanter,'—'Like cures like.' That is to say, arsenic is the remedy for your wife, because, when taken in material doses, it always produces symptoms identical with those manifested in her case. Hence I meet them with immaterial doses of that drug. Had her symptoms been different, then I should have been obliged to seek and find, if possible, a drug capable of causing this different set of symptoms, whatever they might have been. Now this rule of law holds good throughout all the field of medicine, except that which is purely surgical. Do you catch the idea?"

"I do, Doctor, I do; and I declare that it looks very reasonable as you put it. I like the theory, and if it always holds good in practice, then it is certainly one of the most beneficent of God's laws."

"Thousands of times, Barton, in an active practice of more than twenty-five years, I have tested this law; and I tell you, as an honest man, and one who expects to answer for the deeds done in the body at the bar of God, that it never failed me once. I have failed many times because I could not read aright the symptoms of the case; or when it was an incurable affair, rendered so by drugs and surgery," said Dr. Jones with great earnestness. "But come, I have given you quite a medical lecture. Let's look up the girls and see what they are about."



CHAPTER X.

A Messenger from the Skies.

Mrs. Jones and Mattie had found Jennie to be a lovely, intelligent, and more than ordinarily educated girl. While unused to society, yet there was an honest straightforwardness about her that was very charming. The two ladies became easily intimately acquainted with her. Her whole soul was devoted to her mother, and the hope that Dr. Jones had inspired shone from her eyes. She became quite cheerful and merry. And the effect upon the poor invalid was not less visible. She insisted upon sitting in her easy chair by the fireplace, and joined in the conversation.

Sing, meantime, had installed himself as the presiding genius of the kitchen, and he and the half-breed Indian girl were getting along famously together.

"How long have you lived in this place, Mrs. Barton?" asked Mrs. Jones.

"Twenty-three years," replied she.

"Well, have you not found it a very monotonous existence?"

"I did at first; but as my children were born, my mind and heart were so taken up by them that time did not hang heavily upon our hands. I really believe that we are much happier than the majority of people in the towns and cities."

"O, if mother can but get well, it seems to me that I shall never be discontented again in Constance House!" exclaimed Jennie, her eyes filling with tears.

"My poor girl does long sometimes to see the great world," said Mrs. Barton, stroking the head of Jennie, who was sitting upon a stool at her feet. "Well, my dear girl, I believe that God, in his infinite mercy, has sent us help directly from the skies; for I must say that last night, as I lay the first time for many weary months free from pain and awful burning and restlessness, that I thanked God as I had never done before; and my faith went out to Him so that I felt a great peace settle upon me. He has blessed the means being used. I shall recover, my darling girl."

Jennie, in a paroxysm of joy, threw herself at her mother's feet, and buried her face in her lap, weeping as she had never done in her life. At this juncture the Doctor, Professor Gray, and Mr. Barton entered the room.

"Tut, tut," said the Doctor, seeing the tears streaming down the faces of the four women, "what sort of business is this? You ought to all be laughing instead of crying. There is nothing to cry about, I assure you."

"Doctor," said Mrs. Barton, extending her hand to him, "you do not understand. We are rejoicing, and this is just our poor woman's way of doing it."

"I see, I see," said the jovial Doctor. "Well, now wipe away your tears, and give God all glory. He has sent me, a poor weak mortal, simply as a messenger to administer that which will save you from a loathsome disease and death. All glory be unto Him."

He then began singing softly and reverently, the others joining:

"God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform, He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs. And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head."

"And now, Mrs. Barton, you must come out and see the chariot in which the Lord sent us," cried Dr. Jones gayly.

The poor invalid stood in the door and looked up at the great globe that shimmered and glistened like burnished silver in the rays of the setting sun. How proudly and serenely it rode above their heads as if conscious of its own unparalleled beauty, and its blessed mission in this present instance. She gazed upon it a few moments in speechless rapture, her poor emaciated hands clasped upon her breast.

"This is too marvelous for me," she cried. "What am I that God should send deliverance to me in so glorious and majestic a ship of the skies! I am lost in wonder and praise. Glory be to His holy name forever and forever."

"Amen!" responded the listeners fervently.

The canoe party returned at four o'clock, P.M. All were tired and ready to sit about the generous fire; for evening was at hand, and the air was already sharp and frosty.

"And how did it happen, Mr. Barton, that you came to settle away up in this barren wilderness?" asked Professor Gray.

"I do not know that I know myself," returned Mr. Barton. "I was taken sick at a boarding-house in Montreal, and was sent to a hospital. I was at that time master of the bark Twilight, a Liverpool craft. Mrs. Barton was then a beautiful girl—don't blush so, Mrs. Barton. Jennie there is a perfect reproduction of you as I first saw you, and I should not be ashamed of our Jennie anywhere on earth. Well, as I was saying, Mrs. Barton, named at that time Miss Constance Schmidt, the daughter of a Moravian missionary, visited the hospital frequently as an angel of mercy. So far as I was concerned it was a case of love at first sight. She nursed me back to health; and, with the usual ingratitude of man, I married her for her pains. I then gave up the sea after a trip or two, and settled in Montreal. But I could not get used to, nor like the conventionalities of city life. So I made a trip into these wilds. I saw an opportunity to do a good business in furs; and so, with wife's consent, we settled on this spot. I built this house, which I named in honor of my wife—Constance. I have done fairly well financially, and I am sure that we have been quite happy and contented. Until Mrs. Barton's illness, I was without a care or worry in the world."

"But don't you find the winters very long and terribly cold?" asked Fred.

"On the contrary, we enjoy our winters very much. To be sure, the thermometer runs from thirty to fifty degrees below zero; but if the wind does not blow, we suffer very little from it."

"What do you do to pass the time?" asked Will.

"The boys, when the weather is favorable, trap and hunt. I am getting a little too old and heavy for much of that; so I attend to the chores about the place, trade goods for furs to the hunters and Esquimaux. Our evenings are passed in reading, one often reading aloud to the rest of us. And we have a great deal of music. Joe plays the violin, Sam the flute, and Jennie the guitar or dulcimer."

"By the way," cried Fred, "Let's have a musical soiree to-night. What do you all say?"

This proposition was enthusiastically received.

"Come, Will, let's run up and get the organ. Will you go up?" addressing Joe and Sam.

"Go up, my sons, and see this Alladin's palace," said Mr. Barton. "You will never see its like again."

In half an hour they returned. The young Bartons were wildly enthusiastic in their praises of the globe.

"Jennie, you must not fail to see the wonderful air-ship," cried Joe. Mattie, Jennie, Will and Fred visited the globe, returning just in time for a splendid supper prepared by the skillful Celestial, Sing. All that the larders of both Constance House and the globe afforded had been drawn upon, and it is doubtful if in all inhospitable Labrador a more elaborate and bountiful table was ever spread.

The Doctor, at Mr. Barton's request, asked the Divine blessing, and all fell to and ate with an appetite that is known only to those of clear consciences and sound digestive organs. Having done justice to the really splendid meal, they repaired to the sitting room. The beautiful aluminum organ graced the center of the apartment, and the musicians gathered about it. Fred was surprised and delighted to find that the young Bartons were all really accomplished musicians, and their instruments blended in sweetest harmony. So they played a number of orchestral pieces that were received with great applause by the audience. Then solos, duets, trios, quartettes, choruses, etc., were sung, and it is not probable that the Barton family ever spent so delightful an evening in their lives. And let us just contemplate the scene for a moment. How happy, joyous, and innocent they were, just as God intended his children to be. Two days before, this lovely family had been in the depths of despair, day by day watching a beloved wife and mother dying by inches of a painful, lingering, loathsome disease. Not a sound of music had been heard in the house for many days. The violin, guitar, and dulcimer had lain utterly neglected and unstrung. Now a change has occurred that must have delighted the angels of God. Through the unselfishness, skill, and noble-heartedness of one man, has come so unexpectedly, as if dropped from the very skies, in the heart of one of the most inhospitable portions of the earth, sweet hope and deliverance. What wonder that their hearts are light and merry? One thought only mars their pleasure: to-morrow morning the Children of the Skies will sail away in their glorious sky-ship, probably never to return.

At ten o'clock the company broke up, the ship company ascending, as before to their staterooms. Barton would not hear to anything else than that they should descend in the morning for the last time. How sad these earthly partings are. It will not be so in that better land.



CHAPTER XI.

Is the World Growing Better?

Before daylight on the following morning they descended to breakfast. Mrs. Barton had enjoyed a comfortable night, and Dr. Jones expressed himself as delighted with her condition.

"You have everything to hope for," he said to the family. "I leave you this medicine, with written directions for its use. Do not repeat the dose I have given her so long as improvement continues. When it ceases you will do as directed in my written instructions."

The hour of departure had arrived. Farewells had all been said, and the company had ascended except the Doctor and his wife.

"I cannot say what I wish to you," said Barton, taking each of them by the hand. "I simply look upon you as messengers from God, and I want to give you something more substantial than thanks." He placed a buckskin sack of gold in the hand of Dr. Jones.

"Oh! no, Mr. Barton, my good friend," said the Doctor, handing it back; "I won't take a cent. You are ten thousand times welcome to anything I have done. I feel myself richly remunerated in the satisfaction of leaving you all happy."

"Take it, Mrs. Jones, as a present from me," said Barton, and he pressed it into her hand. "You will really hurt me if you do not accept it."

"Then I will do so, Mr. Barton. Good-bye," and away they shot up to the cabin. At a given signal Joe and Sam cast the anchors off, they whizzed up to the engine-room, and the mighty ball bounded skyward like a bird in the clear, frosty morning air. A very brisk wind was blowing from nearly due south, and the voyagers were delighted with the progress they made that day toward their destination.

All day they sped at more than forty miles an hour over the vast elevated plains that were but barren wastes, growing every hour drearier and more desolate.

"Of all the misnomers on earth, the name given this country ranks first," said Professor Gray.

"What is the meaning of the word 'Labrador,' Professor?" asked Denison.

"The literal meaning of the word is 'cultivable land.' As to its appropriateness, you can judge for yourselves. I do not know who bestowed upon it this misfit of a name, but it must have been a hardy explorer, who did it in a fit of spleen and wretchedness."

"The Barton family seems to be comfortable and happy in poor old Labrador," said Mrs. Jones.

"Yes, but my dear madame, they do not live by cultivating the land," returned the Professor. "The seasons are too variable, and the changes of temperature are far too sudden to permit raising of crops of any kind."

"Mr. Barton told me that they did raise a little garden stuff, such as onions, lettuce, and radishes; but potatoes, corn, etc., invariably are nipped by frost, and never mature," said Denison.

The Professor, a few moments before noon, ascended to the observatory with sextant and chronometer, and determined the latitude and longitude of "Silver Cloud," as Mrs. Jones had named the aluminum ship. He made the entry in his logbook.

"There is our exact position now, Doctor," and he placed the point of a pencil on the map of Labrador.

"In forty-eight hours we will be within the Arctics at this rate of speed," cried Dr. Jones, rubbing his hands with delight.

The face of the country was so uninteresting and monotonous, covered more or less with snow, that the voyagers became tired of looking at it, and turned their attention to various pursuits within the cabin. Becoming tired of music, they read, played games, conversed, etc.

The Doctor and Professor were each expert chess players, and their games were long and closely contested. Victory perched about as often upon the banner of one as the other.

Fred worked daily upon a composition which he entitled "The North Pole March," and declared that the music should be played by himself, while the rest of the company marched around the aluminum flagstaff, after its erection at the summit of the earth, the North Pole. The two ladies were greatly interested in Fred's composition, and hummed and sang it with him, offering suggestions here and there that were of more or less benefit to him.

Denison and Will spent their time attending to the springs, watching the thermometers and barometer. This, however, occupied but little of their leisure, and they played many games of checkers and backgammon. Will took an occasional snapshot with his camera when he saw anything of interest. He had taken some excellent photographs of Silver Cloud and company, which he had left with the Barton family. Who can doubt that they were an unfailing source of delight and tender remembrance to this intelligent and interesting family, as they sat about their great fireplace during the long winter nights. And the artist had taken some sketches of Constance House and inhabitants, which he had brought with him. He had converted one of the spare bedrooms into a studio, and spent an hour or two daily upon a portrait in oil of Jennie Barton. The fact of the matter is, the unadorned beauty and grace of the lovely Jennie had touched his artistic taste beyond anything that he had ever experienced in his life. And away deep in his heart, almost unknown to himself, was a determination to spend a summer season at Constance House, as soon after their return from the Pole as possible.

Silver Cloud all this time was hastening with the speed of a carrier pigeon, nearly due north. Dr. Jones and Professor Gray could not repress their satisfaction each day as their observations showed them to be moving straight as an arrow toward the object of their journey. The altitude they maintained was very little more or less than three thousand feet, and the wind continued from the south at the rate of twenty or thirty miles per hour. The outside temperature was balmy and bracing during the day, so that the balcony afforded them a splendid promenade, where they spent hours daily, exercising in walking round and round the spacious cabin, and studying the topography of the country. Frequent trips were also made to the observatory, and sitting there with the windows open was very inspiring, as well as comfortable. To thus sit in so elevated a place with the windows wide open, while in a state of perspiration, the result of climbing the long stairway, would seem to have been the height of imprudence. But we must remember that such a thing as a breeze or draft of air was never felt on board the Silver Cloud while in motion. The great ship went exactly with the wind, and at precisely the same rate of speed. So, whether the wind blew one or a hundred miles an hour, it was always a dead calm aboard the Silver Cloud.

"This is the ideal place for all catarrhal and pulmonary cases," declared Dr. Jones. "I shall always prescribe a trip in Silver Cloud for this class of patients hereafter."

"I fully believe in its efficacy," said Professor Gray. "But I fear that it will be too expensive a prescription for many of your poor patients."

"That's the trouble, that's the trouble," assented the Doctor, shaking his head sadly. "Millions are yearly dying that might be saved by this and other means on the same line. But the blindness and selfishness of mankind is so absolute and infernal that but little philanthropic work of this sort can be done. There are some noble exceptions, or we should have suffered the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah long since."

"But, Doctor, you believe that the world is getting better, do you not?" asked Will.

"In what way?"

"Well, in every way. No one can doubt that in the arts and sciences more has been done in the past fifty years than in all the previous history of the world."

"Granted," assented the Doctor.

"All right. Then let us look at the social, moral, and spiritual sides of the question. Socially, certainly, no period of history can compare with the present. We are educating our children, feeding and clothing them better than they ever were before in the world."

"I really think we are," again assented Dr. Jones.

"Well, then," cried Will, glowing with triumph, thinking that he was fairly smoking the little Doctor out, "what can you say for your side of the question? Was there ever a time when life and property were so protected as now? And were there ever so many Bibles and tracts and other religious matter published and disseminated as at the present time? Missionaries are going by thousands all over the earth, and the gospel will soon have been preached to all nations."

"That's so, that's so," concurred the Doctor again.

"Come, come, Doctor; defend your side of the question," cried Fred.

"I did not know that I had committed myself to either side," returned he. "But I will say this much: While I am not pessimistic as to the outcome of this struggle going on between God's and Satan's forces in the world, yet we should not overlook the fact that the devil is fearfully active in these times. While I have admitted all that Will has said, yet there is another side to the question. Let me call your attention to the fact that there never was a time when there was so much rum and tobacco used in the world as to-day. The amount consumed per capita is increasing tremendously. Remember that with every missionary there are sent in the same ship from seventy-five to one hundred gallons of intoxicants, and tobacco galore. Never has this world seen so vast preparation for war. The people of all Europe are groaning beneath the taxation imposed upon them for the support of vast armies and navies. At no time has money been piled up in the hands of the few as at the present. Hundreds of millions in many instances are held by a single individual. By no sort of philosophy can he be entitled to it, and by no system can he come into possession of it without robbing thousands of his fellowmen. And as to inventions: surely no man delights more in the splendid achievements of our age in this direction than I do. But I declare to you that I believe labor-saving machinery to be a mighty curse to mankind, because the laborer is being driven closer and closer to the wall by the innumerable inventions that are driving him out of every field of labor. The great money kings are taking advantage of every such invention, and what the end is to be I do not dare predict. Ignatius Donnely's fearful picture in his work, Caeser's Column, I hope and believe to be terribly overdrawn. And, as I said before, I am not pessimistic as to the final outcome; but let us beware of crying 'Peace! peace! when there is no peace!' The fact is, gentlemen, I cannot help thinking that St. James referred to these very times, when he said in the fifth chapter of his epistle: "Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for the miseries that shall come upon you. Your riches are corrupted and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were fire. Ye have heaped up treasure together for the last days. Behold, the hire of the laborers who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth: and the cries of them who have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabbaoth." See James, 5-4. I cannot, in the light of these prophecies, see that the world is growing essentially better rapidly, if at all."

"But, Doctor," said Will, "you cannot deny that the children of these times are incomparably better clothed, have more and better books, live in more comfortable homes, and are enjoying privileges never known to children of former generations."

"While I must assent to what you have said, yet all these advantages are not unmixed blessings. In my experience as a physician, I have seen very many precious lives go out, simply because they could not endure the high pressure system of our modern educators. I feel so strongly upon this subject that I would prefer that a child of mine should live and die absolutely illiterate, than that he should sacrifice one particle of health for any conceivable amount of mere book-learning. I once had an uncle who was a man of wonderful learning. He was a collegian, a master of half a dozen or more languages, and for all this he paid the price of his good health. All his life, he suffered the pangs of an outraged stomach and nervous system. He could never make any use of his splendidly cultivated brain, and was a miserable, unhappy burden to himself and friends to the end of his life. His end was sad, tinged with the element of ridiculousness. He was sitting in a field one day, resting during a short walk, when a great vicious hog attacked him, tossed him about, rooted him here and there, and would have certainly killed him outright if his cries had not brought assistance. He never recovered from the effects of the injuries received on that occasion. Suppose poor old uncle could at that time have traded all his dead and modern languages for a pair of good stout legs, would it not have been a grand bargain for him?"

"But could not your uncle have been more judicious and systematic in the prosecution of his studies, and have done the same amount of work without detriment to his health?" asked Professor Gray.

"I do not doubt that he might. But our schools are run nowadays upon, as I said before, a high-pressure system. Too many children are packed into imperfectly ventilated schoolrooms, and the poor teachers are miserably overtaxed. But the schools are graded, everything cut and dried, the curriculum made by state or county board; and, like the tyrant's bedstead, those too long must be cut off, and those too short must be stretched. All must fit the bedstead. That great story-teller, Charles Dickens, tells the story exactly in his picture of Dr. Blimmer's system of teaching. That poor babe, Paul Dombey, might as well have been fed to an insatiable ogre as to have been placed in the hands of that pompous idiot. And our country is full of little Paul Dombeys, blossoming for eternity. How much better to have let the poor little fellow play in the sands upon the beach with his sister Florence and old Glubb. But the precocious innocent must be murdered by this same senseless system, because of the inordinate vanity of a foolish father, and the stupidity of his teacher. In vain have I warned hundreds of parents, when I saw their children thus being hurried to premature graves. But they are so proud of the precocious darlings that they seldom heed until it is too late. Faugh! the whole business makes me sick."

"Well, Doctor, admitting all you say, what do you suggest as the remedy? I have known many statesmen who could see and point out the evils, present or imminent, of society or state, with great sagacity and accuracy, but when it came to prescribing the remedy, were utterly impracticable," said Professor Gray.

"That is right, Professor Gray. It is very little benefit to a sick man to tell him that he is sick, or even to make for him a scientific diagnosis, if it be not supplemented by the remedy. I have remedial measures to suggest. In the first place, I would build schoolhouses upon strictly scientific principles; a certain number of cubic yards of pure air should be allowed each scholar, and the most perfect system of ventilation should always be used. Further, by way of homely illustration, I should treat the children upon the same principles that we do our horses. Some horses are calculated for heavy draught business, others for light draught, roadsters, racers, etc. I need not mention the folly of attempting to drive these animals out of their respective classes. Now children differ as essentially in their mental capacities and requirements as do horses physically. You can by no possible means make a mathematician of a scholar who is deficient in the organ of calculation. It is a manifest injustice to hitch such a one beside another who is a perfect racer in the mathematical field. It is not fair to either of them. I claim that each child should be treated upon his individual merits, and in accordance with the natural gifts that God has bestowed upon him. The graded school system is in direct opposition to this idea, and is wholly wrong and unscientific."

"Well, as to the curriculum, Doctor," said Will, "suppose you were called upon to abridge the list of studies in our public schools, where would you begin and end? Isn't it a pity in this age of the world, to shut off from the children any one of the branches of science or learning?"

"Indeed, that would be a great pity, and far be it from me to do anything of the kind. I would not abridge the curriculum for any child; it should simply be taught that for which it has a capacity. A teacher who is not capable of so discriminating and anticipating the wants of each pupil, is not a teacher in the best sense of the word, any more than a man is a horse trainer who cannot differentiate between a heavy draught-horse and a light roadster. I might say considerable as to methods of teaching, but I presume that you have heard enough for once."

"Yes, but we have not settled the question as to whether the world is getting better or not," returned Will. "I am willing to admit that our school system is defective. But what do you say as to the safety of life and property at this time, compared with any other age of the world?"

"Really, now, I wish an intelligent Armenian were here to answer that question."

"But that is not fair, Doctor. The Armenians are in the hands of the Turks and we know that they are capable of any conceivable inhumanity. I supposed that we were discussing the world so far as civilized. I really think that it is a clear case of 'begging the question,' when you introduce the Armenian case into the discussion."

"Do you, indeed! And let me inquire, my dear boy, who is responsible for this wholesale slaughter of a people whose only crime is that of being nominal Christians? Five or six centuries ago the combined governments of Europe would have made common cause against the infamous Turk for much less than the murder of a Christian nation. But to-day there is so much less of manhood in Europe than there was in the days of chivalry, that the civilized world is sitting calmly by and permitting this unspeakable crime to go on at the sweet will of the bloody-handed Turk. And do you not think that God will hold the nations of Europe to a strict account for this villainy that marks the closing decade of the nineteenth century as the blackest page in human history? God will surely avenge Armenia, and woe to Europe when He treads the wine-press of His wrath!"

As Will offered no reply, the discussion closed.



CHAPTER XII.

Greenland's Icy Mountains and the Russian Bear.

Upon the morning of the third day from Constance House the wind shifted almost due west. Silver Cloud was in latitude 65 deg., longitude 70 deg. 13 min., and they were driving rapidly toward Greenland.

"We are still two or three points north of east in our course, and will let her drive as she goes for the present," said Dr. Jones. "And you wouldn't mind seeing Greenland's icy mountains, about which you have sung so many years, would you, girls?"

"O let us see Greenland, by all means, Doctor!" cried Mattie.

"What noted travelers we will be when we get back to Washington," and he placed an arm about each of their waists and galloped them up and down the little sitting room several times.

"I do believe that you grow to be more of a boy every year of your life," panted Mrs. Jones, as she smoothed her rumpled hair.

"You are quite right, Maggie; and what is worse, I do not expect to ever improve a bit on that line. Give me the heart of a boy while I live. And now, Professor, I am ready to give you revenge for that last game or two of chess that went to my credit."

While these two were oblivious to the world in a very closely contested game, Mrs. Jones sat knitting while Mattie read aloud to her from a late magazine. Denison and Fred were pacing the balcony for their "constitutional." Will was working on his oil painting of Jennie Barton, and so beautifully had he succeeded in bringing out the lovely features, and trusting, fearless spirit that beamed from a pair of dark blue eyes, that all the company, even to Sing, expressed their unqualified admiration.

"Me sabe," said the acute Mongolian. "Ah! Will heap likee Miss Jennie."

The artist blushed, and they all laughed uproariously at his confusion, and Sing went chuckling to the kitchen.

The following morning Silver Cloud had nearly crossed Davis Strait, and the bold headlands of the western coast of Greenland were in plain view. They crossed the western boundary line of that land of perpetual winter, just a few miles north of the Arctic Circle.

"Hurrah!" shouted Dr. Jones. "In the Arctics at last!"

The wind held still a little north of due east, and Silver Cloud rode at an elevation of between 3,500 and 4,000 feet. The surface of Greenland was cold, dreary, and uninviting to a degree. Vast tracts of ice and snow stretched in every direction, far as the eye could see. Away in the interior a range of mountains broke the monotony of the landscape. Toward morning a violent snowstorm gathered below them and hid the face of Greenland from view until next morning. Silver Cloud, meantime, was sent up to nearly 5,000 feet altitude, so that they might not collide with any mountain peak during the night.

"Upon my word," said Professor Gray, as he stood on the balcony the following morning, and looked out over the white and ghastly picture of desolation, "I thought Labrador the most inappropriately named country upon the earth, but think of calling this picture of all that is inhospitable and forbidding—Greenland!"

By noon they were crossing swiftly the ridge that runs the length of Greenland, so far as is known. Silver Cloud swept within three hundred feet of one lofty peak, covered with eternal ice and snow. Then on and on, swift as an eagle, over the high plateaux and steppes of Eastern Greenland. Early the following morning they arose to find the Arctic Ocean beneath, and Greenland disappearing in the misty horizon behind them. The wind bore a point or so more easterly, and Dr. Jones was tempted to seek a more favorable current. He descended to the 2,000 foot level, but experienced no perceptible change.

"Well, we'll stick to my original plan. Anything north of due east or west is good enough for us," said he.

But he grew restless as they hour after hour steadily continued upon nearly the same latitudinal line, and descended to 1,000 feet elevation. There was some change for the better at that altitude for many hours. One thing that specially pleased them was the wonderful sensitiveness of the globe to the slightest variation of the temperature within its interior. The Doctor's plan of using hot air alone as the floating power had been modified to the extent of dividing one-half of the globe's interior into several compartments by thin sheets of aluminum, and these were filled with hydrogen gas. The gas fell but little short of the power necessary to float the ship, so that a slight elevation of the temperature in the air chamber above that of the external atmosphere was sufficient to float the vessel. When it was desirable to descend, a trap being opened in the upper and lower parts of the air chamber caused the hot air to rush out and the cold air in, and the descent could be made rapidly or slowly, at the will of the commander. By virtue of the zinc lining of the air chamber the temperature would remain at a given point for many hours without the consumption of a particle of fuel.

The Doctor and Will together had devised a most ingenious method of heating the hot-air chamber instantly. By the use of a small air pump hundreds of atmospheres could be compressed into a very strong aluminum chest or cylinder. Beneath this cylinder were a number of burners that heated the compressed air several hundred degrees. As we said before, when they desired to descend, an upper and lower trap were opened, the hot air rushed out above and the cold air in below, causing the globe to descend with great rapidity. This descent could be arrested at any level by closing the trap, and a certain amount of the air let off from the hot-air chest, and any temperature desired could be attained at once. All this could be done at an expense of oil that was ridiculously and incredibly small. While they could by no means steer or guide this ship, yet, if the Doctor's theory of air currents should prove to be scientifically correct, then they were by no means entirely at the mercy of any and every adverse gale. And, at the worst, when a favorable current could not be found, they could descend to the earth and anchor until a fair wind prevailed. One thing further should be explained. When it became desirable to ascend suddenly or rapidly, the hot-air chest was thrown completely open, and the vast chamber was instantly filled with air at any temperature required. When this operation was from any cause necessary, the upper trap was closed and all the lower apertures opened. The hot air from the chest immediately mounted to the upper end of the air chamber, and forced the excess of cold atmosphere out through these lower traps. The effect upon the globe was marvelous. It would bound skyward like a rocket. By a series of experiments Will had ascertained just the amount of pressure per square inch and the temperature that was necessary to send the ship to a given altitude. The rate of ascent was under perfect control by letting off the hot air slowly or rapidly.

"What a mighty engine for good or evil in the world this ship would be, if it could be guided or steered," remarked Professor Gray.

"I doubt if that can ever be done," replied Will. "The surface presented to the current of atmosphere is too great to allow any sort of device to operate satisfactorily."

"The Government is making experiments with what is called the aeroplane, and the indications are that it is the coming method of aerial navigation. But the degree of comfort that we are enjoying can never be an attendant of that plan. I shall never cease to wonder at the speed with which we are traveling over these Arctic regions in perfect comfort. I never felt better in my life, and I have grown to feel as safe as I ever did in my home in Washington," said Professor Gray.

They occasionally saw whales spouting, and it was exceedingly interesting to watch the great icebergs that floated here and there over the face of the deep. Some of them towered like crystal mountains, hundreds of feet into the air.

"Just think how incomprehensibly great these masses of ice are," observed Professor Gray. "It is estimated that but one-eighth of the berg protrudes above the surface. Now look at that monster! Not less than eighteen or twenty miles long, and from five to six hundred feet high, making it in the neighborhood of a mile in thickness. Ah! see that big fellow turning over! Did you ever see anything so grand! I don't wonder that navigating these seas is next to impossible."

They were all standing upon the balcony when they beheld this startling scene.

For two whole days the beautiful ship continued steadily upon nearly the same course. The Professor pointed out their position upon the map at latitude 70 deg. 35 min., and longitude 50 deg. 20 min., East Greenwich. At this point they encountered a terrible gale from the north. The Doctor raised higher and higher, until they reached an altitude of ten thousand feet. Still they flew at amazing speed toward the south. He ascended to fifteen thousand, then twenty thousand feet elevation, but on they went into the heart of Russia. Will went up into the globe and hurriedly returned.

"You must lower, Doctor! The strain upon the rods is tremendous! The outside atmospheric resistance is so slight at this elevation that we shall certainly explode if you ascend any higher."

"Then we will descend and anchor at the first favorable spot, and there await a south wind. There seems to be a great demand for air at the equator just now. Well, let them have it," said he grimly, "but we are sure to get a regurgitation in our direction before many days. So down we go to study Russian habits and customs."

The upper and lower traps were opened in the air chamber, and they rapidly descended to within five or six hundred feet of the earth. They could plainly see that the foliage was being thrashed with great violence by the gale.

"How shall we manage to safely anchor in this awful wind, Doctor?" asked Will anxiously.

"Do you see that high range of hills just ahead?"

"Yes."

"Well, they run east and west. We will drop immediately upon the other side of them. There it must be comparatively calm. But sharp is the word! We are there now!"

Downward dropped the great ship behind the sheltering crest of the hills, and she, in a moment or two, was skimming quite easily along, just above the treetops. In what appeared to be a great park, the anchor was dropped into the top of a tree. It held securely, and Will and Denison descended in the cage and made a very strong aluminum cable fast about the trunk of the tree. After all was made secure, Dr. Jones and Professor Gray also descended. The little company then began looking around for signs of life.

"I see a large stone building down this avenue," cried Will.

"The Professor and I will prospect the place, while you two had better remain here until our return," said the Doctor.

Accordingly they set off at a lively pace toward the building. As they approached it they looked in vain for signs of human life. They found it to be a massive ancient castle, standing in the midst of an extensive grove or park. They were somewhat awed by the deathlike silence that pervaded the place. They, however, stepped up to a massive oaken door, and Dr. Jones seized the ponderous iron knocker and struck several vigorous blows. They waited two or three minutes, but could hear no sounds within.

"We have struck an enchanted castle, and I must see if I cannot awake the Sleeping Beauty within," said Dr. Jones, and he was about to apply the knocker again, when a deep bass voice from a window above addressed them in a language with which they were unfamiliar.

"We cannot speak your language. Do you speak English?" asked Dr. Jones.

"Are you men, angels, or devils, and what do you want," returned the voice in fairly good English.

The Doctor hastened to give the desired information, and told who they were, etc., concisely as possible.

"What is that fearful and wonderful silver ball or globe in which you dropped from the skies among us?"

After further explanations the bars were removed, and the massive door swung slowly open. There stood before them a large, black-bearded man, holding by the collars two large Russian hounds. The brutes growled and showed their horrid fangs in a way that made the visitors cringe and draw back.

"Please restrain your dogs, sir, for our mission is a perfectly peaceful one," said Dr. Jones; and he smiled so blandly that the man seemed to dismiss his apprehensions. He gave a signal which summoned two men, to whom he consigned the dogs, and they were led away. He now invited them to enter, and gave them seats in an adjoining room.

"Gentlemen, I am Count Icanovich, and this is my castle. I welcome you to its hospitalities. You must excuse the reception we gave you, for I must confess that I have never been so startled in my life as when I saw your extraordinary ship come swooping down upon us a few moments ago. Half my people are in fits, or hidden away in all sorts of holes and corners."

"I am exceedingly sorry, Count, to have come so abruptly and informally among you, but I assure you that we are here very much against our own wishes. We are bound for the North Pole, but this terrible gale from the north necessitated our anchoring for the present. But since fate has cast us among you, I am very happy to make the acquaintance of Count Icanovich. I am Dr. Jones of Washington City, United States, and this is Professor Gray, of Smithsonian Institute, same city."

The Count shook hands with them very cordially, and asked, "How many are there of your party?" Upon being told, he immediately desired that they all be brought to the castle.

"We see but little of the world in this place," said he, "and we hail this break in the humdrum monotony of our life with extreme pleasure."

The two gentlemen returned appropriate acknowledgments of the Count's kindness, and arose to return to the globe for the company.

"Will you accompany us to the ship?" asked Dr. Jones.

"I thank you, but I am a victim of sciatic rheumatism, and can do but little walking," returned the Count. "I hope, however, before you leave us, to be able to inspect your wonderful air-ship."

"Is your sciatica of long standing?" inquired Dr. Jones, all the instincts of a good physician being aroused at the presence of suffering; and running over in his mind a list of remedies from force of long habit.

"About three years. I contracted it from getting wet when warm. I am incurable, and must grin and bear to the end."

"Do you feel better quiet, or when moving about?"

"Oh! I must move about. I usually put in hours at night hobbling up and down my room."

"The bed feels so hard that you cannot find an easy spot to lie on. You are always worse before storms. After sitting a little while you stiffen up, feeling much better after moving about. The tendons of your legs have a drawing sensation, and feel as if too short. There is more or less of numbness and paralysis, and a wooden sort of feeling of the leg when walking. You also have lightning-like shocks of pain through the limb, now and then. Your attacks come on every few weeks, and it is the left limb that is affected. You can be cured."

The doctor rattled these symptoms off with great volubility. The Count looked at him with open-eyed wonder. The professor was not less astonished at the positiveness with which Dr. Jones thus detailed the Count's symptoms without any previous knowledge of the case.

"Whether you be angel or devil, I do not know; but certain it is that you have told my symptoms better than I could have done myself. But you make a bold assertion when you say that I can be cured. Do you know, man, that I have had the best advice in Europe, and have spent a fortune seeking relief?"

"Are you taking medicine now, sir?"

"No. I have thrown physic to the dogs, and may God have mercy on the dogs. I am thoroughly disgusted with physic and physicians. And why should I not be? Several years since, I saw my wife die of pulmonary consumption. And now my only child lies in a chamber above, well advanced in the same terrible, wholly incurable disease. As if this were not enough, I myself am suffering the pangs of h—l with a lingering, incurable complaint. Why shouldn't I detest the whole lying, infernal business?" he roared, striking the floor savagely with his cane.

"Sure enough, sure enough," said the Doctor soothingly and sympathetically. "I do not blame you in the least. But we will see if something cannot be done for you, Count. I believe in my soul that I can cure you, and that right speedily. Let us now hasten back, for our people will be alarmed at our long absence."

They found them indeed wondering and anxious. All immediately descended and repaired to the castle. The Count met them at the door, and, after a formal introduction to each, led them to a large, quite modernly furnished drawing-room.

"Now," said the Count, "please make yourselves at home. I intend that you shall be my guests while you remain in this vicinity. You will be shown to your rooms in a few moments. You will please excuse me now, and I will see you at dinner, which will be at six o'clock."

He was about leaving the room, limping painfully, when Dr. Jones stepped up to him, and, pulling a small vial from his vest pocket, said: "Put out your tongue, Count; I wish to give you a dose of medicine that will cure your sciatica."

The Count looked at him suspiciously a moment, then sat down as requested, and put out his tongue. Dr. Jones shook a grain or two of powder upon it.

"You will suffer less to-night than you have done in a long time. It is very possible that this one dose will cure you perfectly and permanently."

"I tell you frankly, sir, that I have not a particle of faith in your minute, tasteless dose affecting me in the slightest," said the Count with a half angry glare in his deep-set black eyes.

"I do not care a fig for your faith, sir," replied Dr. Jones in his independent American manner. "Happily for you, this is not a Christian Science cure that I am performing. You have the indicated remedy in your circulation now; and with all due respect, believe what you please."

The company of friends were looking on anxiously, fearing that the Doctor was too brusque with the nobleman. But that individual smiled, and really seemed quite pleased and amused at Dr. Jones' positive, straightforward way of doing business.

"Evidently you are not deficient in the element of faith, Doctor, and I can but wish that your faith may not be in vain in this instance."

After the Count had withdrawn, Professor Gray said: "Dr. Jones, I do not at all understand how you could tell the Count his symptoms as you did, without any previous knowledge of the case. Does sciatic rheumatism always present just the same picture, or set of symptoms, that you should be able to so rapidly and correctly tell his purely subjective sensations?"

"Not by any means, Professor. A scientific prescription, like a stool, must have at least three legs to stand upon. You will remember that the Count had already told me that moving about, especially at night, mitigated his pains; that he contracted his ailment from getting wet; and I noticed that he favored the left leg in walking. These were the three legs for my stool, or prescription. I felt positive that the remedy indicated was Rhus Toxicodendron. So I merely mentioned the leading characteristics of that drug, and I was not mistaken. You see, then, that I did nothing marvelous nor supernatural. Now, any one of many other drugs might have been indicated if the symptoms had been different from what they were. The symptoms of the disease must always be the same as those that the indicated drug is capable of producing in crude doses. Rhus tox. will cure the Count because, in every case of poisoning by that drug, there will be produced the symptoms found in his case. Like cures like. This is a universal law of God. I feel quite sure that the Count will experience great benefit from the one dose I have given him."

"I shall watch this case with the greatest interest," said the Professor. "You will make a convert of me to your system if you perform a cure of so obstinate and painful a disease with an infinitesimal dose of medicine."

"All right, my dear sir. I always feel confident of a cure when the symptoms are clear cut as in this instance."

A general conversation was now entered into for a few moments, when servants entered and signaled them to follow, and each was conducted to a comfortable apartment. They shortly after assembled again in the drawing-room and awaited the announcement of dinner. Fred opened the piano, and he and the ladies sang a trio. They were glad when a servant appeared and signaled them to follow him to the dining-room. The Count was the only Russian present who could speak English. So he watched carefully and interpreted the wants of his guests to the servants, and but very little trouble was experienced. They found the cooking very palatable, and their mode of living aboard Silver Cloud in the frosty atmosphere of the Arctic region had sharpened their appetites enormously.

The Count talked with them about their journey, and was much interested in the graphic accounts given by the different members of the party of their experiences. Will explained the plan and construction of the globe. The Count was a good listener, and seemed deeply impressed with all that was said upon the subject.

"It seems to me incredible that you were so short a time ago in Washington City, U.S., and are now sitting at my dining table in the heart of Russia. And think of the circuitous route by which you came! Still I am prepared to believe anything when I look at yonder wonderful silver globe, and remember how you dropped among us from the skies as you did to-day."

After dinner Will and Denison borrowed a lantern and went to see that Silver Cloud was all right for the night. The wind swayed the monster ball back and forward gently, and there seemed to be no great strain upon the cables.

"I think we had better get out the other two cables," said Will. "I do not feel quite safe. A heavy gust might tear it away, and that would be a calamity indeed."

So he ascended to the engine-room and passed the cable ends to Denison, who made them securely fast to adjoining trees.

A very enjoyable evening was spent in the great drawing-room. Of course music constituted the chief source of pleasure. Fred brought his anthem and glee books from the cabin of Silver Cloud, and the old walls of the castle certainly seldom, if ever, rang with such music as was discoursed there that night. The domestics had so far recovered from their fright that they now crowded the adjoining hall to hear the singing. So ravishing was the harmony to their semi-barbaric ears that, conjoined with the marvelous manner of their coming among them, these poor creatures were ready to fall down and worship them as heavenly visitants. The Count himself seemed to enjoy the music exceedingly, and encored long and loudly. When they separated for the night, he shook hands cordially with each, and said:

"My good friends, I cannot sufficiently thank you for the pleasure you have afforded me this evening. You may be sure that my invalid daughter has enjoyed your delightful music. She desired that the door be opened so that she has heard it all. She was an accomplished vocal and instrumental musician before her illness. Perhaps she may feel well enough to see you in the drawing-room to-morrow evening."

Turning then to Dr. Jones, he said: "Well, Doctor, whether it be your medicine or music that has charmed away my pains, I do not know; but it is certain that I have not been so free from suffering for a long time. I bid you all a very good night."

After a consultation it was thought best that two should sleep aboard Silver Cloud every night so long as the party remained with the Count. So Will and Denison took upon themselves this duty, and immediately repaired to the cabin for the night.



CHAPTER XIII.

Beauty and the Beast.

On the following morning all were up early, and enjoyed a long walk before breakfast in the park. They did not see the Count until breakfast time. He was in a very pleasant mood, and, after inquiring how they had rested, turning to Dr. Jones he said:

"I have always made a point of rendering credit to whom credit is due. I slept eight consecutive hours last night, solidly and dreamlessly as the dead. I have had no such rest for years, and this morning, but for the stiffness of my limb, should be tempted to challenge you for a foot-race. If this be the effect of your medicine, you are the most wonderful healer I ever met."

"I am truly happy to hear that you feel so well this morning, Count Icanovich. But remember that you do not believe at all in my infinitesimal dose, and should not prematurely render me credit. Your present improvement may be but a simple coincidence," and the Doctor's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"That is right," said the Count good-naturedly; "I deserve your sarcasm."

"Now," interposed Mrs. Jones, "I do not think that the Count deserves any reproach or sarcasm at all. Here we come among you, total strangers; and Dr. Jones, before we have been here two hours, in his usual insinuating manner, gets you to swallow a dose of medicine for what you have good reason to consider an incurable complaint. I think it quite unreasonable to expect you to have the slightest faith in his one little dose."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones," said the Count, bowing to her gravely; "but you will allow me to ask," and he set his great black eyes upon her very earnestly, "do you think that the Doctor can cure me?"

"Do I think so!" cried she, flushing with pride and enthusiasm, "my good sir, he has done so already!"

The Count looked at her in astonishment for a moment, then dropped his knife and fork upon the table, threw his head back and roared with laughter. It was so hearty and contagious that all joined it in spite of themselves.

"Excuse me, friends," said he, wiping the tears from his eyes, "but I have not laughed so for years. And this lady's vindication of your skill, Dr. Jones, inspires me with greater confidence than anything else could have possibly done. All I have to say, madam, is that I accept your diagnosis of cure, and shall throw crutches and canes aside."

After breakfast the Count said: "I have a stable full of horses which are at your service. I should esteem it a favor if you would use them as your own. There are many sights of interest about here. A few miles away is the town of P——, a nice little city of about five thousand. No doubt you would like to make some purchases. I will accompany you any time and act as interpreter."

They thanked him, but concluded not to visit town that day. He then led Dr. Jones into his private room and said:

"Doctor, I am desirous that you should see my daughter. I fear that you can do little more than palliate her condition, but even that would be very much for us. She is a great sufferer, and I shall be extremely grateful for anything you can do for her."

The Doctor immediately signified his readiness to see her whenever it pleased the Count.

"That north wind is still howling, and I am only too happy to be of service to your daughter, or any of God's suffering children while I am with you. Keep me busy as you like, Count. My greatest delight is to cure the sick, and the world is my field since I started on this trip for the Pole."

The Count touched a bell, and a female servant entered. He gave her some orders in Russian.

She returned in a few moments and spoke to him.

"My daughter is ready to receive us. Will you go up to her now, sir?"

"This is my daughter Feodora, Doctor Jones," said the Count as they entered her room. A tall, graceful young lady of twenty arose from a couch upon which she had been lying, and extended a thin feverish hand to the Doctor. She spoke to him in beautiful English, and Dr. Jones expressed surprise in his face so that the Count said:

"I spent several years in London, and Feodora became very proficient in the language there."

They were all seated, and, after a few casual remarks, Dr. Jones requested Feodora to relate to him the history of her illness, and as she did so, he carefully noted her symptoms in his case-book. He interrupted her as little as possible, preferring to take down the history in her own language. After she had finished he made a physical examination of her chest. First, he carefully percussed both lungs; that is, laid the fingers of the left hand upon the chest and tapped them lightly with the finger ends of the right hand, thus producing a more or less resonant or hollow sound. He could thus detect any consolidated tissue that might be in the lung, or abnormal resonance where there chanced to be a cavity. He then, with a stethoscope, ausculated the lungs, or listened to the respiratory sounds. He noted the temperature; rate and other qualities of the pulse; looked at the tongue and sputa. Having now a complete picture of the case or what he termed the "totality of the symptoms," he said:

"I must consult my library a few moments. I will be back within an hour."

He hastened to the cage, ascended to the cabin, and in a few moments was oblivious to everything but the salvation of this precious young life. He transcribed from his case-book to a sheet of paper the most prominent, unusual, and persistent symptoms. They were:

1. Weeps much, and cannot bear to be left alone. Fears she will die.

2. Great difficulty in breathing; worse from exertion and after coughing.

3. Dry, teasing cough, more or less day and night. In paroxysms from tickling in the throat, with tenacious mucus, which she cannot raise, and must be swallowed. Sputa sometimes consists of pus, mixed with blood.

4. Lower third of the right lung particularly affected. She cannot lie upon the right side on account of sharp, stitching pains through the lung. Sometimes the sharp pains extend through the left lung, with violent palpitation of the heart.

5. All these symptoms, cough, pains, etc., are invariably worse at three o'clock, A.M., and continue one or two hours.

6. Very profuse night sweats, etc.

There were other concomitant symptoms that we will not stop to enumerate. Dr. Jones prepared a powder from a vial labeled Kali Carbonicum (cm), and descended and hastened to the castle. His heart was jubilant within him, for he knew that he should save this lovely girl. He fairly burst into her chamber, glowing with the pleasure he thus felt in bearing the gospel of healing.

"Praise God!" he fervently ejaculated, "I have found your remedy. Take this please." She opened her mouth and he shook from a tiny vial a dose of a white granular powder, just as he did the night before with her father.

"Now, I want you to cheer right up, and dismiss all thought of dying from your mind. I expect that within a very few days you will experience great relief. These sharp stitching pains will almost immediately disappear, I am sure."

And so he talked to her for a little time so brightly and cheerfully that the poor invalid seemed to catch his enthusiastic, hopeful spirit, and smiled and chatted in a way that lifted the Count to the very skies.

"Whether there be any efficacy in your powders or not, Doctor Jones, there is certainly wonderful potency in your sanguine manner of giving them."

"Now, to-night," continued the Doctor, acknowledging the Count's compliment with a smile and nod, "I desire to see you in the drawing-room. You must have pleasant, cheerful company. No more tears and sighing in this dismal room. Throw open the curtains and blinds, let God's sunshine and fresh air in. Take no medicine except what I give you. I must bring my wife and Mattie to see you, and you and they must romp all over this country in a few days—providing a favorable wind does not set in. For I must hie away to the North Pole at the earliest practicable moment."

"Please bring your ladies up soon, Doctor. I desire very much to know them, and I am sure that company does me good. I am afraid to be alone a moment. It has been too quiet in this great castle with no one to talk with but the servants. Do send for them immediately, please."

A few moments later they appeared and were introduced to Feodora. They were shortly upon very good terms, for each of them was exceedingly well bred and possessed of purest womanly instincts.

"I heard your beautiful singing last night, and how I did wish to join your company. And do you know that yesterday I had been suffering terribly with stitching pains in my side, and I was so tired and miserable that I asked God to help me or take me home. Just then your great silver ship sailed across my window so that I could see it as I lay upon my couch, and do you know that I believed, for a time, that God had sent his chariot for me. I did not seem the least frightened, though I could hear the screams of the servants in different parts of the house, and my nurse had crawled under the bed. I just closed my eyes and awaited the summons. I confess that I felt really disappointed when they told me the truth of the matter. But now, do you know," grasping the good little Doctor's hand, "that I believe this to be God's messenger, and through him I am to be restored to health again."

"The Lord grant it," said Dr. Jones. "But now we must leave you a few hours. You have had quite enough excitement for once. I expect to see you in the drawing-room to-night."

So they withdrew, leaving her smiling and happy. Count Icanovich joined the Doctor a few moments later and asked him to sit with him in his private office.

"You will understand, Doctor, that I am exceedingly anxious to know your opinion of my daughter's condition. You have inspired us with a degree of hope that we have not known for a long time. Indeed, Hope spread her wings and left this castle long since, and it has been little better than a charnel-house until your appearance. Now I ask you to tell me candidly whether you entertain any hope of my Feodora's ultimate recovery. You may lay your heart open to me, for I should receive her as one raised from the dead if you save her. Do not, as you love your own soul, attempt to deceive me."

"Count Icanovich," answered Dr. Jones, "I am hardly prepared to give you a definite answer. I certainly see great reason to hope all that could be expected or desired. A certain remedy is so positively and clearly indicated in her case that I shall be greatly disappointed if the most distressing of her symptoms do not immediately disappear. After that, so much depends upon the hygienic and dietic management that I do not feel justified in making an absolutely favorable prognosis."

"What if she were under your immediate supervision for a certain length of time?"

"I should, under such circumstances, feel quite sure of restoring her to perfect health."

"Then, Doctor, if money be any object to you, you shall have your own price for remaining until you pronounce her well."

"I am extremely sorry, Count, but that cannot be. My Government has built yonder aluminum air-ship at enormous expense at my express desire and instigation, with the understanding that I sail with it to the North Pole. My obligation is to do so with all possible dispatch. I will leave medicine and explicit directions, so that in all probability you will do just as well as if I remained."

The nobleman said no more upon the subject, and they joined the company in the drawing-room. Will, Fred, and Denison repaired to the stables, selected saddle-horses and rode to the town. There they were objects of great interest to the inhabitants. The news of the great silver globe—for they all believed it to be of silver, and the strangers to be fabulously rich—with its load of voyagers that came so suddenly and mysteriously among them the day before, had spread rapidly. The superstitious people were half inclined to regard them as celestial visitors, and looked upon them with awe and wonder.

The Doctor and the Professor, with the ladies, took a long walk through the park. They met many of the natives, who were coming from every direction to see the marvelous silver ship.

"I declare," said Mrs. Jones, "that I can hardly realize that all this can be true. I have to pinch myself sometimes to see if I am not enjoying a long beautiful dream."

"It is romantic to the last degree," replied Professor Gray.

"The wind still holds in the north," remarked Dr. Jones, scanning the skies and treetops. "I see that it has veered a few points to the west. We will surely get a favorable wind before many days."

"Isn't it a pity that you cannot stay with that lovely girl until she is out of danger?" sighed Mrs. Jones.

"Yes, it grieves me exceedingly to be obliged to leave her, but I have no option in the matter. If that globe were my private property, I would not leave her until she was out of danger. But, under the circumstances, I cannot do so. After all," said he, brightening up with the thought, "she will probably do as well without me."

"She is the loveliest creature I ever saw," said Mattie. "How gentle, beautiful, and patient she is. Much as I desire to visit the North Pole, still I would gladly remain here six months or a year if it would do her any good."

The day passed away without incident. After dinner all met in the drawing-room, and the invalid girl occupied an easy chair among them. She extended her hand to Dr. Jones with a grateful smile, and said:

"Doctor, I have not passed so comfortable a day for a very long time. I shall get well. Your medicine has done wonders for me already. You are, no doubt, in great haste to reach your destination, but you must not leave me until I am better. If you do, I shall die."

"O, no! my dear Miss Feodora, you will not die. I shall leave you medicines that will help you through nicely."

This the Doctor said with all the assurance and cheerfulness he could command. But she instinctively detected a slight shade of anxiety or uncertainty in his tone. The physician must be a consummate actor who can deceive a patient whose perceptions are preternaturally acute as were Feodora's. He saw that he had not deceived her, and cried:

"Do not let us think of that subject to-night. This unfavorable wind may last many days, and I promise to see you better before I go."

She smiled sweetly and gratefully as he gave her this promise, and abandoned herself to the enjoyment of the music, conversation, etc., of the evening. Instrumental and vocal music constituted the principal source of amusement, and the audience awarded unstinted praise and applause. The singers were in the best possible form, not one of them complaining of cold or hoarseness, as is customary. Nothing could exceed the sweetness and richness of Mrs. Jones' voice. It seemed to fill the gloomy halls and rooms of the castle to its farthest confines. And Mattie's contralto beautifully and nobly seconded the soprano. The tenor and bass could scarcely have been better, and altogether it was a concert worthy of the praise of that, or any other, audience.

"You will never know what a change your coming has made in our home," said Feodora to Mrs. Jones and Mattie as they sat beside her. "Before your coming, all was so still and dark, and scarcely a sound could be heard in the rooms or halls all day. Now see the servants sitting and standing about the halls, chatting and laughing as if nothing had ever been wrong in the house. And look at papa talking and laughing as if he were not the saddest man on earth only two days ago. As for myself, I am simply astonished beyond measure. I have really forgotten for a time this evening that I am not perfectly well. O, what a beautiful, beautiful change! And it is perfectly heavenly to have a respite from pain, even if it be but temporary."

The two ladies, one sitting upon either side, smiled their sympathy and happiness, and pressed her poor emaciated hands between their own cool, soft, plump ones in a way that went directly to her heart.

"Let us help you up stairs," said Mrs. Jones, "for I am sure that you must be getting tired."

She assented, bade the company good-night, and retired with the two ladies.

"Now you must let us do everything we can for you while we are here," said Mrs. Jones. "You know that we are to see you better before we go away, and I have so much confidence in Dr. Jones' system of medicine that I am positive of your recovery."

Leaving her then to the nurse, they retired for the night.



CHAPTER XIV.

Doctor Jones Commits Treason.

As they met at the breakfast table next morning, they found the Count joyous and jubilant. Feodora had spent a comparatively comfortable night. At the regular hour, 3 o'clock, A.M., the stitching pains and cough recurred, but were so much less than usual, and lasted so much shorter a time that she was radiant with joy, and thanked Dr. Jones so sweetly that the good man was obliged to hem and cough and wipe his nose and eyes, and complain of a slight cold which he had contracted. As for the nobleman himself, he declared that he was the happiest and soundest of all the Czar's subjects.

"I cannot understand this matter, Doctor," said he. "I have absolutely exhausted the medical science of Europe without the slightest benefit. Here you come from the United States, a new country, and supposed to be very much behind in all matters of science and letters, yet you have done for me and my daughter, as if by magic, what the accumulated science and knowledge of Europe have not been able to do at all. Is your science a mystic or esoteric affair, and are you the only one in possession of the secret?"

"No, indeed, Count Icanovich. So far from my system being esoteric or exclusively my own, I have for many years taught and exemplified to the best of my ability the law by which I am governed in the selection of the remedy. And there are a noble few in my country who are like children sitting in the market, crying, 'We have mourned unto you and ye would not mourn; we have piped unto you and ye would not dance.' By every possible means we have endeavored to induce the dominant school of medicine to investigate our claims, but they simply deride and laugh us to scorn."

"But surely, Doctor, they cannot deny the evidence of their own senses! If you cure that which they cannot, they certainly must heed you. Anything else is unthinkable," exclaimed the Count.

"My dear sir, human nature is past finding out in its capacity for stupidity and foolishness. God gives every man the power to choose good or evil, and no amount of evidence can dispossess him of this elective franchise. Hence he is the arbiter of his own fate. Abraham said to Dives concerning his brethren, 'If they believe not Moses and the prophets, neither will they believe, though one arose from the dead.' Jesus Christ healed the sick, raised the dead, restored the lame, the halt, the blind, in the presence of priests, lawyers, and doctors, the scientists of those days; and they put him to death in precisely the same spirit that they expatriated Samuel Hahnemann for discovering and promulgating the only law of cure in God's universe. Human nature has not changed a particle since the days of Adam and Eve, and it never will be any more nor less than what it is now, except as it is regenerated through the Atonement."

"This is marvelously strange," said the Count musingly. "I do not remember to have heard of your system more than a few times in my life, and then but as something ridiculous or foolish. Cannot something be done to bring it before the public?"

"So far as I know, Count Icanovich, there is not a school in Europe where the tenets of our system are taught. The dominant school of medicine has used its power, and legislation effectually bars us out in every European country. Only in America have we colleges, and even there whatever privileges we enjoy are the results of deadly and uncompromising warfare. So you will understand the difficulties under which we labor."

"It seems, then, that it is simply a matter of ignorance with the laity that your system has not become universally adopted," interposed Professor Gray. "And the 'Regular School,' as they style themselves, is exceedingly active in keeping them thus ignorant."

"That is the state of affairs exactly," cried Dr. Jones. "To illustrate the fact that we have a law of cure, while the so-called Regulars have nothing like it, a certain physician, a number of years ago, sent out twenty letters, ten to prominent men of each school. He sent to each the ordinary price of a prescription, and represented himself as a patient. He detailed precisely the same symptoms to each. Now, if medicine is worthy of being called a science, why should there not have been an answer, and but one answer, as to the remedy indicated in this case?"

"So I have said a thousand times," exclaimed the Count, excitedly. "And I can foretell the denouement so far as the Regular school is concerned: You received as many prescriptions that were totally unlike as there were men of that school who prescribed for you."

"Right, you are, my lord!" shouted the Doctor. "But eight of them responded. No two of their prescriptions at all resembled each other, and the aggregate number of drugs prescribed by them was somewhere near seventy, if I remember correctly. If all these drugs had been put into a jug, the compound would have been a mass of incompatibles that would have poisoned any miserable wretch who was fool enough to take it."

"But how did the men of your school do, Doctor?" asked Professor Gray. "Did they do any better?"

"Did they!" again shouted Dr. Jones, swelling and flushing with pride. "Every one of them prescribed Lycopodium Pollen, which was the indicated remedy."

"How many physicians of your school are there in America?" asked the Count.

"Something like twelve thousand, I believe."

"And would each of them have prescribed the remedy you mentioned?"

"All worthy of the name would have done so."

"And are not all worthy?"

"I am forced to say no! not by a great many. Like every other representative system of truth, our greatest source of danger is from within. No chain is stronger than its weakest link, as has been said many times. The world judges us by our weaklings. Every good thing has its hordes of counterfeits."

"Well," said the Count, "I am deeply interested in this matter. I must hear more of it, Doctor."

"And I also am desirous of information upon this all important subject," added Professor Gray.

The wind had veered around to the west-nor-west. It had materially abated in violence, but was still unfavorable for our navigators. And, in truth, the Doctor was not nearly so anxious to depart at this time as was Professor Gray. The good Doctor's mind was divided between a desire to be off for the Arctics, and a professional interest in, and friendly solicitude for, the beautiful Feodora. Nothing could exceed the delight with which he noted the manifest curative power of the dose which he had given her. And he had pledged his word that he would not leave her until material improvement was apparent. So it was with a considerable degree of resignation that he saw the wind continue northerly.

The matter stood about thus between him and Professor Gray: While Dr. Jones was really commander of the expedition, yet the Professor represented the Government's interests, and he kept a strict record of every day's occurrences. These must be subjected to the inspection of the proper authorities upon their return to Washington. The fact that Dr. Jones had interested himself in a sick girl in the heart of Russia, even though she was the only child of a Count who stood high with the Emperor of all the Russias, could not excuse him to his Government for holding in abeyance the mighty interests of the expedition upon which it had projected him.

For two more days the northerly winds prevailed. Then came the hoped-for, yet dreaded, change. At six o'clock in the morning, the Professor rapped upon Dr. Jones' chamber door.