and entered it. There were half a dozen or more men within, all
working--but they ceased every movement as they saw her,--while she,
on her part, scarcely seemed to note their presence. Her eyes were
uplifted and fixed on a vast, smooth oblong object, like the body of
a great bird with shut wings, which swung from the roof of the
aerodrome and swayed lightly to and fro as though impelled by some
mysterious breathing force. Morgana's swift glance travelled from
its one end to the other with a flash of appreciation, while at the
same time she received the salutations of all the men who advanced
to greet her.

"You have done well, my friends!"--she said, speaking in fluent
French--"This beautiful creature you have made seems a perfect
thing,--from the OUTSIDE. What of the interior?"

A small, dark, intelligent looking man, in evident command of the
rest, smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah, Signora! It is as you commanded!" he answered--"It is
beautiful--like a chrysalis for a butterfly. But a butterfly has the
advantage--it comes to LIFE, to use its wings!"

"Quite true, Monsieur Gaspard!" and Morgana gave him a smile as
sunny as his own. "But what is life? Is it not a composition of many
elements? And should we not learn to combine such elements to
vitalise our 'White Eagle'? It is possible!"

"With God all things are possible!" quoted the Marchese Rivardi--
"But with man--"