Nor indeed was I vastly concerned with it at the moment. My mind only contained one thought: I was being taken away from the Doctor. Apparently I was to be carried off alone and set back upon the Earth. As the moth’s speed increased still further I heard a fluttering near my right ear. I turned my head. And there, thank goodness, was Polynesia flying along like a swallow! In a torrent of words she poured out her message. For once in her life she was too pressed for time to swear. “Tommy!—They know the Doctor is worried about your staying away from your parents. I told him to be careful last night. They heard. They’re afraid if you stay he’ll want to leave too, to get you back. And—” The moth’s feet had left the ground and his nose was tilted upward to clear the tops of the trees that bordered the open space. The powerful rush of air, so familiar to me from my first voyage of this kind, was already beginning—and growing all the time. Flapping and beating, Polynesia put on her best speed and for a while longer managed to stay level with my giant airship. “Don’t worry, Tommy,” she screeched. “I had an inkling of what the Moon Man had up his sleeve, though I couldn’t find out where he was hiding. And I warned the Doctor. He gave me this last message for you in case they should try to ship you out: Look after the old lame horse in the stable. Give an eye to the fruit trees. _And don’t worry!_ He’ll find a way down all right, he says. Watch out for the second smoke signal.” (Polynesia’s voice was growing faint and she was already dropping behind.) . . . “Good-by and good luck!” I tried to shout an answer; but the rushing air stopped my breath and made me gasp. “Good-by and good luck!”—It was the last I heard from the Moon. I lowered myself down among the deep fur to avoid the pressure of the tearing wind. My groping hands touched something strange. It was the moon-bells. The giant in sending me down to the Earth had thought of the needs of the human. I grabbed one of the big flowers and held it handy to plunge my face in. Bad times were coming, I knew when we must cross the Dead Belt. There was nothing more I could do for the present. I would lie still and take it easy till I reached Puddleby and the little house with the big garden. Well, for the most part my journey back was not very different from our first voyage. If it was lonelier for me than had been the trip with the Doctor, I, at all events, had the comfort this time of knowing from experience that the journey _could_ be performed by a human with safety.