Nigel addressed a word of caution to the chauffeur, and they drove on.  From the first shed they passed a stream of vehicles was pouring out,—­porters with luggage, jostling throngs of newly arrived passengers on their way to the Electric Underground.  They drove into number seven shed, left the car, and walked to the end of the long platform.  The great arc of glass-covered roof above them was brilliantly illuminated, throwing a queer downward light upon the long line of waiting porters, the refreshment rooms, the kiosks and newspaper stalls.  In the far end, a huge airship, bound for the East, was already filling up.  Maggie and her companion stood for a few minutes gazing into the huge void of space.

“Tell me about Naida,” the former begged, a little abruptly.

“Naida is a wonderful woman,” Nigel declared enthusiastically.  “We lunched at Ciro’s.  She wore a black and white muslin gown which arrived this morning from Paris.  Afterwards we went down to Ranelagh and sat under the trees.”

“Throwing yourself thoroughly into your little job, aren’t you!” Maggie sniffed.

“You’ll have a chance to catch me up before long,” he replied.  “Naida has promised that she will arrange a meeting with the Prince.”

“I wonder what Oscar Immelan will have to say about it,” Maggie reflected.

“To tell you the truth,” Nigel said hopefully, “I believe that Immelan is losing ground.  His whole scheme is too selfish.  Of course, Naida won’t discuss these things with me in plain words, but she gives me a hint now and then.  Amongst her gifts, she has a marvellous sense of justice and a hatred of any form of bribery.  That is where I feel convinced that she and Immelan will never come together.  Immelan could never see more than the selfish side, even of a world upheaval.  Naida searches everywhere for motive.  She has the altruistic instinct.  I wonder no longer at Matinsky.  She is a born ruler herself.”

“I’m glad you are getting along with her,” Maggie remarked.  “Look!” she broke off, catching at his arm.  “The violet lights!”

High up in the sky outside, two violet specks of light suddenly rose and fell like airballs.  A crowd of mechanics appeared through subterranean doors and stood about in the vast arena.  Very soon the airship came into sight, her cars brilliantly illuminated.  She circled slowly round and came noiselessly to the ground, and with the mechanics running by her side, and her engines now scarcely audible, came slowly into the shed and to a standstill by the side of the platform.  Maggie and her companion stood well in the background.

“There he is,” the latter whispered.

Immelan, suddenly appeared as though from the bowels of the earth, was shaking hands warmly with a tall, slender man who was one of the first to descend from the airship.  They talked rapidly together for a few minutes.  Then they disappeared, walking down towards the luggage-clearing station.  Maggie watched the retreating figures earnestly.