"Surely they cannot have captured Bruno, as yet?" huskily muttered uncle Phaeton, hungrily straining his eyes without reward. "If the poor boy had actually fallen into such evil hands, why such crazy confusion? Why--oh, why did I permit his coaxings to overpower my better judgment? Why did I send him into--"The words stuck in his throat and refused to issue. Phaeton Featherwit just then felt himself little less than a cold-blooded assassin.
Mr. Edgecombe was but little less deeply stirred, although his feelings were more of a mixture. He grieved for Bruno, and would willingly risk his life in hopes of doing the young man a service, yet his gaze was drawn far more frequently towards yonder temple, on the top of which he had--surely he HAD caught sight of his wife, his daughter!
"Let me down and try to find him," he eagerly begged, as one might plead for a great boon. "I promise to save him if yet alive, and--let me try, professor; I beg of you, give me this chance to show my heartfelt gratitude."But Professor Featherwit shook his head in negation.
"That would only add to our trouble, friend. Knowing nothing of the dialect, you would be wholly at a loss. And, looking so entirely different in every respect, how could you hope to pass inspection?""All seems so confused, that I might--surely it is worth trying.""It would be suicidal, so say no more on that score," almost harshly spoke the usually mild-mannered aeronaut, sending his vessel upon another circuit, only with stern vigilance choking back the appealing shout to his lost nephew.
This time the aerostat was brought directly above the Temple of the Sun, where there appeared to be some unusual disturbance, a number of armed guards fairly driving a gaily arrayed Indian down to the lower levels, and that greatly against his inclinations, judging from the harsh cries and ringing threats which burst from his lips.
Recognising the building, and unable to hold his intense emotions longer under stern control, Cooper Edgecombe called aloud the names of his wife and daughter, begging that they might come to him; but then the air-ship was sent onward and upward, with a dizzying swoop, and Professor Featherwit gripped an arm, sternly speaking:
"Quiet, sir! Another outbreak like that and I'll lock your lips, if I have to send a bullet through your mad brain!""I forgot. I could not wait longer, knowing that my loved ones--""You forgot that the lives of all depend upon our remaining at liberty," coldly interrupted Featherwit. "Without this means of conveyance, how can your loved ones escape? Now, your solemn pledge to maintain utter silence, or I will take you back to yonder wilderness, leaving you to shift for yourself as best you can. Promise, sir!""I will,--I do. Forgive me, for I was carried away by--'twas there I saw--after so many horrible years!" huskily muttered the exile, fairly cowering there, before his saviour from the whirlpool.
"Enough; bear in mind that the rescue of your loved ones depend on our efforts. If discovered by yonder snarling beasts, and the machine is injured,--farewell, all hopes! Now, quiet, and look for Bruno!"Again the air-ship circled over the valley, in spite of the moonlight passing wholly unseen and unsuspected by the Aztecs, whose energies were bent on ferreting out mortal foes, not demons of the upper world.
Waldo leaned farther over the hand-rail as they floated closer to an excited group of warriors, the central figure being Lord Hua himself, fiercely denouncing Aztotl and his son, Ixtli, as traitors to the common welfare, and calling upon all honest braves to mete forth befitting punishment.
Professor Featherwit caught one name indistinctly; that of the young Aztec in whose company Bruno had set forth on his ill-starred venture; and hoping to learn more of importance, he caused the aerostat to hover directly above that particular group of redskins.
Waldo, never stopping to count the risk he might thus fetch upon them all, silently lowered the grapnel, by means of the drag-rope, giving a boyish chuckle as the three-pronged hook descended amidst that gathering, the sight causing more than one superstitious brave to leap aside, with cries of amazed affright.
The air-ship gave a sudden swoop, and the grapnel caught Huatzin by his girdle, jerking him fairly off his feet, and swinging him into air, pretty much as a youngster might land a writhing fish.
But no fish ever sent forth so wild a screech of mingled rage and terror as split the air just then.
Although hardly realising what was happening, Professor Featherwit sent the aeromotor upward with a mighty jerk. The shock proving too much for that sash, Lord Hua fell back to earth, literally biting the dust, although he met with no bodily harm beyond sundry bruises.
"Caught a sucker, and--I'll never do it again, uncle!" exploded Waldo, as he swiftly hauled in his novel fish-line; but he had to take a severe lecture from the professor before the subject was finally dropped.
And, worse than all else, the air-demon was now the target for both eyes and arrows, and, perforce, sailed swiftly away into the night.
