Those were Professor Quinn’s last words to me. My final glimpse of him showed me his resolute face and slender form drifting away into the gloom in the direction of King Gaddbai. I felt as though I must run after him and drag him into the car whether he would or no. How I succeeded in fighting down the mad impulse has ever since been a mystery to me; but I did, and a word to Popham, Meigs, Markham, and Gilhooly, who had already been informed that they were to expect a startling dénouement, brought them after me into the steel structure. I heard Olox give a loud command for us to turn back, but his word-box was suddenly quieted, and I presumed that the professor had already gone far enough with his part of the ruse to lull any suspicions that had arisen. "Rope that steel door on the inside, Gilhooly!" I cried as I bounded up the iron stairs. Gilhooly did not know what had been planned, but leaped instantly to the task. With a quick pull of the lever I opened the oxygen tank and dashed below once more. Something had gone wrong outside—I did not know what, and do not know to this day. The mysterious violet fire which accompanied a discharge of the zetbais was rolling all around the steel wall that hemmed us in, and a perfect tumult of shrieks and cries came frantically to our cars. Violent hands were laid on the door, pushing it inward against the rope made fast by Gilhooly. Gilhooly and the others hurled themselves at the portal and flung it back, holding it so by main strength. "We’ll be killed!" shouted Meigs. "No," I yelled, and jumped to the switch board. The next instant the switch was thrown, and the billows of fire faded from the car windows as if by magic. We were saved! Again had we plunged into space, and behind us—living or dead I knew not—we had left Professor Quinn. Sinking down on my knees I buried my face in my hands. *CHAPTER XIX.* *BACK TO EARTH.* I have heard some one say that life is only a dream, and that when we awaken in the other country we shall find it so. Far be it from me to dispute this or affirm it, yet I know, of my own experience, that our waking moments furnish events that seem as illusory as the stuff that dreams are made of. Of all our strange adventures, the flight from Njambai has been the one that I recall with most vividness, and, at the same time, as seeming the most unreal. The tension of my nerves at the moment may account for this. As I stated somewhere close to the beginning of this narrative, what I set out to write was a description of the planet Mercury in so far as my limited abilities for observation enabled me to gather knowledge. In looking back over my manuscript, I find I have made it more of an adventurous tale than I intended.