Then
he looked up at the sky directly above him, and breathed a quick
exclamation.
It was a single, small object, perfectly white, dropping out of
the amethyst. Tiny at first, amost instantly it assumed a
proportion nearly colossal--a great bird, white as the breast of
the snowdrift, swooping with the grace of the eagle and the speed
of the wind. It was so very large that it seemed, to Chick, that
if all the other birds he had ever known were gathered together
into one they would still be as the swallow. Down, down it came in
a tremendous spiral, until it gracefully alighted in a splash of
molten colour on the bosom of the silver sea. For a moment it was
lost in a shower of water jewels--and then lay still, a swan upon
the ocean.
"What is it, Geos?"
"The Kospian Limited, my lord. One of our great airships--a fast
one, we consider it."
"It must accommodate a good many people, Rhamda."
"About nine thousand."
"You say it comes from Kospia. How far away is that?"
"About six thousand miles. It is an eight-hour run, with one stop.
Just now the service is every fifteen minutes. They are coming, of
course, for the Day of the Prophet."
Watson continued to watch the great airship, noting the swarm of
smaller craft that came out from the Mahovisal to greet it, until
the Jan Lucar suddenly altered the course. They stopped climbing,
and struck out on a horizontal level.
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