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It would never do to have the neighbors swarming around the Panchronicon. The stranger threw off his cloak on entering the upper room and turned to face his host. "I owe you sincere acknowledgment of thanks, good sir," he said, gravely. He appeared to be about thirty-five years of age, a man of medium stature, dark of hair and eyes, with a pale, intellectual face and a close-clipped beard.
"Wal, we'll be private an' cosy here till the Panchronicon hez time to store up more force," he said out loud. Strolling forward, he skirted the high wall, and ere long discovered the very opening through which the sisters had passed at sunrise. Stepping through the breach, he found himself, as they had done, near the main London highway in Newington village.
The only remedy was to lure her into the Panchronicon, and regain the distant home they ought never to have left. The first step to be taken was therefore to rejoin Copernicus and see that all was in readiness.
"Here I be!" came a voice from below. "I'm jest lockin' the door tight." "Well, hurry up hurry! Come up here an' lay down. I'm goin' to start." In a few moments all was in readiness. Droop pulled the lever, and with a roar and a mighty bound the Panchronicon, revived by its long period of waiting, sped upward into the night.
The Panchronicon had started. It was long after their bed-time and the two sisters were utterly exhausted; but as the mysterious structure within which they lay glided northward between heaven and earth with the speed of a meteor, Rebecca and Phoebe long courted sleep in vain.
"Well," he said, "the' isn't any use you seem' the Panchronicon now, is the'?" "What's it like, Mr. Droop?" Rebecca inquired. He paused helpless before the very thought of description. "Oh," he said, weakly, "et's like et's a why Oh, it's a machine!" "Hez it got wings?" "Not exactly wings," he began, then, more earnestly, "why don't ye come and see it, anyway!
A half an hour later the Panchronicon, circling in the outer brightness and silence, contained three unconscious travellers, and one of them sat with his arms flung across the table supporting his head, and beside him an empty bottle. Rebecca was the first of the three to waken.
Then rich, young, sober, he would seek out a charming, rosy, good-natured girl something of the type of Phoebe, for instance. They would be married and He got up at this and looked at the clock. It was after midnight. He looked at the date indicator. It said October 9, 1890. "Well, come!" he thought. "The old Panchronicon is a steady vessel. She's keepin' right on."
"Why, 'f course," said Droop. "But how 'bout linen sheets an' table-cloths an' all?" said Rebecca. "We'll need some o' them on the trip, won't we?" "I've got a hull slew o' them things in the Panchronicon," said Copernicus. "Ye won't hev to bother a bit about sech things." "How long do you s'pose it'll take to make the trip," asked Phoebe. "I mean by the clock?
Phoebe laughed and Droop replied: "If ye can't stand it or set it, why lay, Cousin Rebecca. The's good settles all 'round." With manifestly injured feelings Droop hunted up a book and sat down to read in silence. The Panchronicon was his pet and he did not relish its being thus contemned. The remainder of the morning was spent in almost completely silent work or reading.
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