Melbourne and Mars/Chapter 18
CHAPTER XVIII.
A Betrothal. Conclusion.
DR. MARK HALEY and his junior had now gone to the great reflector. For a short time the earth would he in a favorable position for observation. When nearest to Mars it is out of sight, and has its dark side turned that way. From the earth Mars is then a full face study, and sometimes only forty millions of miles distant. Seen from Mars, however, the Earth is only full when its greatest distance. This night the Earth was half full, and Australia would emerge into the sunlight about one o'clock, Martial time. The great reflector, and all connected with it, are moved back by clockwork just as fast as Mars moves forward on its axis, so that the Earth, now in the field of vision, shall remain fixed there, presenting only such changes as result from its own motion. All the party had a peep at the illuminated half of the Earth, which in the mighty speculum appeared as half a sphere of twenty inches in diameter. Several now left; Harry Grayson, his son, and Charley and Helen remained. Two sat at our side, three at the other, the great pit of the instrument separating them.
The sun shone brightly over the North and South Pacific; North America was wrapped in fogs and clouds. It was summer in the Southern Seas. A little speck came into sight and was instantly identified as New Caledonia; two larger ones further south were known as New Zealand. A few minutes more and the Queensland coast of the Australian Continent merges into the sunlight. Running the eye south over its broken and indented edge Helen and Charley simultaneously saw Port Jackson.
"Our first home was there, Helen," said Charley, with emotion.
"True, we spent many happy years there," replied Helen. "How much more pleasant life might have been if we had not followed the gold and tried to become rich."
"There is Port Phillip, and that black spot in the northern corner is Melbourne, where now my first identity glances up at the coming day and lies wearily back for another nap. Poor man, he has long been a widower and his work is hard. Would not you like to comfort him, Helen, as of yore?"
"I will," and she put her hand on Charley's forehead.
A moment later the old man looked round and said, "How pleasant. A moment ago I was young again, and felt the caressing touch of my dear wife."
Of this both Charley and Helen were conscious.
The sun now shone upon half the continent, and lit up Japan and Eastern China, and bathed the Indian Islands in its light.
Charles put his arm round Helen's waist, and said, "Now, Helen, tell me, when shall we renew the holy compact which we both so faithfully kept for forty years in the toil and turmoil of yonder grand but yet only half-developed world?"
"Look at Melbourne again," said Helen,
"I am looking."
"See you a small green space, a mere pin point, to the north of the City?" asked Charley's questioner.
"I see it, and know what it is."
"In a short time that weary old man, the Earth, half of you who is now preparing for the labors of another day, will lay down his earthly covering and you will be all here. In two more days that pin speck of green will receive the mortal remains of Adam Jacobs, my widowered husband. While your kin and friends follow that shell to its resting place, and mourn you deceased, we will solemnise our marriage in the most appropriate place, the Great Hall of the Earthborn's Club. Now the day is fixed, Charley dear."
"I agree," said Charley. "It is well, we'll tell Grayson."
The Editor could not mourn when the other day he read of the decease of Jacobs; nor could he record the marriage at the Club, for the hand of the diarist could pen no more of the bright pages on which we have dwelt so long.
THE END.
Pater & Knapton, Printers, 290½ Little Collins Street.