"Please restrain your dogs, sir, for our mission is a perfectly peaceful one," said Dr. Jones; and he smiled so blandly that the man seemed to dismiss his apprehensions. He gave a signal which summoned two men, to whom he consigned the dogs, and they were led away. He now invited them to enter, and gave them seats in an adjoining room. "Gentlemen, I am Count Icanovich, and this is my castle. I welcome you to its hospitalities. You must excuse the reception we gave you, for I must confess that I have never been so startled in my life as when I saw your extraordinary ship come swooping down upon us a few moments ago. Half my people are in fits, or hidden away in all sorts of holes and corners." "I am exceedingly sorry, Count, to have come so abruptly and informally among you, but I assure you that we are here very much against our own wishes. We are bound for the North Pole, but this terrible gale from the north necessitated our anchoring for the present. But since fate has cast us among you, I am very happy to make the acquaintance of Count Icanovich. I am Dr. Jones of Washington City, United States, and this is Professor Gray, of Smithsonian Institute, same city." The Count shook hands with them very cordially, and asked, "How many are there of your party?" Upon being told, he immediately desired that they all be brought to the castle. "We see but little of the world in this place," said he, "and we hail this break in the humdrum monotony of our life with extreme pleasure." The two gentlemen returned appropriate acknowledgments of the Count's kindness, and arose to return to the globe for the company. "Will you accompany us to the ship?" asked Dr. Jones. "I thank you, but I am a victim of sciatic rheumatism, and can do but little walking," returned the Count. "I hope, however, before you leave us, to be able to inspect your wonderful air-ship." "Is your sciatica of long standing?" inquired Dr. Jones, all the instincts of a good physician being aroused at the presence of suffering; and running over in his mind a list of remedies from force of long habit. "About three years. I contracted it from getting wet when warm. I am incurable, and must grin and bear to the end." "Do you feel better quiet, or when moving about?" "Oh! I must move about. I usually put in hours at night hobbling up and down my room." "The bed feels so hard that you cannot find an easy spot to lie on. You are always worse before storms. After sitting a little while you stiffen up, feeling much better after moving about. The tendons of your legs have a drawing sensation, and feel as if too short. There is more or less of numbness and paralysis, and a wooden sort of feeling of the leg when walking. You also have lightning-like shocks of pain through the limb, now and then. Your attacks come on every few weeks, and it is the left limb that is affected. You can be cured."