They were an interesting couple to look upon. He, dark, a little
hollow in the cheeks, a slight line or two of anxiety in the
forehead, a handsome, well-cut mouth, without beard, and a frame
somewhat spare but strong; a man of graceful but unaffected
action, dressed in a riding-coat, breeches, and leather leggings.
She, her cheeks colored with earnest purpose, her gray eyes
rather larger than usual as she looked up from the paper where
she had been calculating, was dressed in the simple artistic
fashion of the day. The falling folds of the semi-clinging
fabrics accommodated themselves well to a figure which even at
that moment of rest suggested latent energy and activity.

"If we have to wait for the Artesian ray," she said, "we must try
to carry out something else. People are watching us, talking of
us, expecting something of us; we must give them something. Now
the question is, what shall that be?"

"The way I look at it is this," said her companion. "For a long
time you have been watching and waiting and expecting something,
and it is time that I should give you something; now the question
is--"

"Not at all," said she, interrupting. "You arrogate too much to
yourself. I don't expect you to give anything to me. We are
working together, and it is both of us who must give this poor
old world something to satisfy it for a while, until we can
disclose to it that grand discovery, grander than anything that
it has ever even imagined. I want to go on talking about it, but
I shall not do it; we must keep our minds tied down to some
present purpose. Now, Mr. Clewe, what is there that we can take