Professor Sykes breathed deeply and raised leaden lids from tired eyes to stare uncomprehendingly at McGuire. Soon his dark pupils ceased to dilate, and he, too, could see their prison and the light of day. "Sunlight!" he said in a thin voice, and he seemed to know now that they were in the air; "I wonder--I wonder--if we shall land--what country? ... Some wilderness and a strange race--a strange, strange race!" He was muttering half to himself; the mystery of these people whom he could not identify was still troubling him. * * * * * McGuire helped the other man to his feet, and they clung to each to the other for support as they crossed to kneel beside the floor-window and learn finally where their captors meant to take them. A wilderness, indeed, the sight that met their eyes, but a wilderness of clouds--no unfamiliar sight to Lieutenant McGuire of the United States Army air service. But to settle softly into them instead of driving through with glistening wings--this was new and vastly different from anything he had known. Sounds came to them in the silence, penetrating faintly through thick walls--the same familiar wailing call that trembled and quavered and seemed to the listening men to be guiding them down through the mist. Gone was the sunlight, and the clouds beyond the deep-set window were gloriously ablaze with a brilliance softly diffused. The cloud bank was deep, and they felt the craft under them sink slowly, steadily into the misty embrace. It thinned below them to drifting vapor, and the first hazy shadows of the ground showed through from far beneath. Their altitude, the flyer knew, was still many thousands of feet. "Water," said McGuire, as his trained eyes made plain to him what was still indistinct to the scientist. "An ocean--and a shore-line--" More clouds obscured the view; they parted suddenly to show a portion only of a clear-cut map. * * * * * It stretched beyond the confines of their window, that unfamiliar line of wave-marked shore; the water was like frozen gold, wrinkled in countless tiny corrugations and reflecting the bright glow from above. But the land,--that drew their eyes! Were those cities, those shadow-splashed areas of gray and rose?... The last veiling clouds dissolved, and the whole circle was plain to their view. The men leaned forward, breathless, intent, till the scientist, Sykes--the man whose eyes had seen and whose brain recorded a dim shape in the lens of a great telescope--Sykes drew back with a quivering, incredulous breath. For below them, so plain, so unmistakable, there lay an island, large even from this height, and it formed on this round map a sharp angle like a great letter "L."