usy with some mechanical detail, looked up.

"Then why not make a search for it while we are here?" he said--"You
evidently believe in it!"

"I have turned the 'White Eagle' homeward, and shall not turn
again"--she said--"But I do not see any reason why such a city should
not exist and be discovered some day. Explorers in tropical forests
find the remains or beginnings of a different race of men from our
own--pygmies, and such like beings--there is nothing really against the
possibility of an undiscovered City in the Great Desert. We modern folk
think we know a great deal--but our wisdom is very superficial and our
knowledge limited. We have not mastered EVERYTHING under the sun!"

The Marchese Rivardi looked at her with something of defiance in his
glance.

"I will adventure in search of the legendary city myself, alone!" he
said.

Morgana laughed, her clear little cold laugh of disdain.

"Do so, my friend! Why not?" she said--"You are a daring airman on many
forms of airships--I knew that,--before I entrusted you with the scheme
of mine. Discover the legendary 'Brazen City' if you can!--I promise
not to be jealous!--and return to the world of curiosity
mongers--(also, if you CAN!) with a full report of its inhabitants and
their manners and customs. And so--you will become famous! But you must
not fall asleep on the way!"

He paled with anger and annoyance,--she still smiled.

"Do not be cross, AMICO!" she said, sweetly. "Think where we are!--in
the wide spaces of heaven, pilgrims with the stars! This is no place
for personal feeling of either disappointment or irritation. You asked
me a while ago if I was tired--I thought I was Hot, but I am--very
tired!--I am going to rest. And I trust you both to take care of me and
the 'White Eagle'!"

"We are to make straight for Sicily?" he asked.

"Yes--straight for Sicily."

She retired into her sleeping-cabin and disappeared. The Marchese
Rivardi looked at Gaspard questioningly.

"We must obey her, I suppose?"

"We could not think of disobeying!" returned Gaspard.

"She is a strange woman!" and as he spoke Rivardi gripped his
steering-gear with a kind of vindictive force--"It seems absurd that
we,--two men of fair intelligence and scientific attainment,--should be
ruled by her whim,--her fancies--for after all she is made up of
fancies--"

Gaspard shook his finger warningly.

"This air-ship is not a 'whim' or a 'fancy'"--he said,
impressively--"It is the