right--a devil of a long way after!"

To this the Master gave no answer, but signaled Auchincloss in the
engine-room for full speed. Now a subtle tremor possessed the
vast fabric, mistress of the upper spaces and the night. The
close-compacted lights beneath commenced to sprinkle out into tenuous
dots. The tiny blazing fringe of Coney burned a moment very far
below, then slid away, under the glass flooring. Still heading
sharply upward, with altimeter needle steadily mounting, with the cold
becoming ever greater, the liner flung herself out boldly over the jet
plain of ocean.

Right into the eye of heaven she seemed to point, into a vast and
profound blackness, that, as the Master snicked off the no-longer
needed searchlight, unleashed myriad stars--stars which leaped out of
the velvet night. Already man and the works of man lay far behind. If
there had been any tentative pursuit, the Legionaries knew nothing of
it. Outdistancing pursuit as an eagle distances sparrows, the liner
gloried in her swift trajectory.

The Master nodded, well pleased. Bohannan laughed like a boy, and
holstered his gun. He moved over to the starboard window, out of the
gale. With mocking eyes he watched the futile searchlight at the Hook.

"They've got as much chance of overhauling us as the proverbial
celluloid cat has of catching the asbestos rat," said he. "A clean
getaway, barring the little damage we've taken--this window, and
Alden, and--"

"Better unpack your kit, and settle down," the Master dryly