But Jack, after his manner, was already recovering his spirits, and he replied stoutly: "Nonsense, Peter, we're all right, as Edmund says. Wait till he comes and he'll fix it." "But how can he know what has happened? And what could he do if he did? More likely they will all be condemned along with us." Jack felt around in the dark and got me by the hand, giving it a hearty pressure. "Remember Ala," he said. "She's our friend, or Edmund's, and they'll bring us out of this. You want to brace up." "Remember Ingra!" I responded with a shiver, and I could feel Jack start at the words. "Hang him!" he muttered. "If I'd only finished him when I had the drop!" After that neither spoke. If Jack's thoughts were blacker than mine he must have wished for his pistol to blow out his own brains. At no time since our arrival on the planet had I felt so depressed. I had no courage left; could see no lightening of the gloom anywhere. In the horror of the darkness which enveloped us, the _horror of space_ came over my spirit. One feels a little of that sometimes when the breadth of an ocean separates him from home, and from all who really care for him--but what is the Atlantic or the Pacific to millions upon millions of leagues of interplanetary space! To be cast away among the inhabitants of another world than one's own! To have lost, as we had done (for in that moment of despair I was _sure_ Edmund could never repair the car), the only possible means of return! To have offended, just _because_ we were strangers, and _could_ not know better, some incomprehensible social law of this strange people, who owned not a drop of the blood of our race, or of any race whatsoever dwelling on the earth! To lie under the condemnation of that goblin face, without the possibility of pleading even the mercy that our hearts instinctively grant to the smallest mite of fellow life on our own planet! To be alone! friendless! forsaken! condemned!--in a far-off, kinless world! I could have fallen down in idolatry before a grain of sand from the shore of the Atlantic! In the murkiest depth of my despair a sound roused me with a shock that made my heart ache. In a moment the door opened, light streamed in, and Edmund stood there. CHAPTER XIV THE SUN GOD Strangely enough, I, who have an exceptional memory for spoken words, cannot, by any effort, recall what Edmund said, as his face beamed in upon us. I have only a confused recollection that he spoke, and that his words had a marvelous effect upon my broken spirit. But I can see, as if it were yet before me, the smile that illumined his features. My heart bounded with joy, as if a messenger had come straight from the earth itself, bearing a reprieve whose authority could not be called in question.