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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hosts of the Air"


At a curve a mile or more distant, he could look down almost directly
upon Zillenstein. The vast castle was bathed in whitish mists floating
up the valley in which it loomed gigantic and enlarged, a menacing
creation that had survived far beyond its time. He shuddered at the
thought that Julie and he might still be there, had not fortune been so
kind, and then, pressing the accelerator, he sent the machine forward a
little faster.
The road owing to the steepness of the ascent now wound a great deal,
but it was smooth and safe, and the automobile, despite its size, had an
organism as delicate as that of a watch. It obeyed the least pressure of
his hand, and his exultation became all the greater when he fully
realized that he had such a powerful mechanism at hand, subject to its
lightest touch. The thought, in truth, had come to him that he might
turn back into the valley, and seek escape from the mountains. But
consideration showed that the idea was foolish. So large a machine by no
possibility could escape from the valley. It was better to go on.
The cold increased sharply. He expected a fall in the mercury owing to
the ascent, but it was greater than the height alone warranted. All the
signs betokened foul weather. The castle was now wholly lost in great
masses of vapor and the moon was withdrawing from the sky.


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