Freddie, during these hours, was busy with constant observations and calculations; Dan and I sat enthralled with the magic of the coloring. As we slid upward toward Xenephrene's equator and gradually descended, the planet's rotation showed quite visibly under us. I could see the cone of Xenephrene's shadow as it swung off into space. It barely missed the moon; a few more of her inclined swings and doubtless she would pass into eclipse. * * * * * The time came when all the visual heavens beneath us were encompassed by Xenephrene's bulk. There were at the moment but few clouds to hide its moonlit surface. "Here," said Freddie, "take a look." He had been gazing through the floor window with our telescope. I took it; gazed upon a purple area of what seemed a liquid haze; to the left, a jagged mountain range--naked crags of gleaming metal in the moonlight; to the right, and extending far up to the rim of the northern horizon, a vast glassy plain, smooth, barely wrinkled, motionless as a frozen sea congealed, while only a breath of air had been scratching its polished top. It gleamed like burnished copper in a purple light. Devoid of even a grain of sand, a twig, a blade of grass. But there was one place where, in a depression, water seemed to have gathered--an irregular crescent sea a hundred miles perhaps in length. I mentioned it to Freddie. "Yes," he said. "I've identified it on the map. We're on the other side now from the Garland country, as your father calls it. He's in the daylight now--" "Then to-night," Dan began. "Yes. To-night--eleven hours from now, approximately--our landing place should be under us. We're eighteen degrees S now, I'll swing us up to ten degrees S, and we'll wait." The full moon held level above us. As the hours passed, while we gently dropped downward, cloud areas began forming beneath us. Freddie set his jaw. "I'm going down--this is the night he'll expect us. If the clouds will break away--" They did. We descended into Xenephrene's atmosphere. Our tiny globe grew intolerably hot; then Freddie slowed us, and we kept the cold air circulating. We went through the clouds. A dead purple mist, and then they broke above us. A rift of moonlight came through. Land beneath us! We could see it! A vague moonlight landscape, far down. Freddie was at the telescope constantly; Dan and I worked the controls at his direction. Forty thousand feet, Eight South Latitude. We were hovering in the dark over a rolling country of what seemed trees perhaps--all vague and blurred and purple. "Know where we are?" I demanded anxiously. "Yes. Over the Garland country. The south middle of it, I should say. That Braun city he mentioned--I got a glimpse of it, Peter. Up to the north. We're all right--if only his light would show!"