We were awakened at daybreak, all seemed excitement and bustle, and with little ceremony we were served in our room with a dainty breakfast of delicately browned fish, fruit, and tea brewed from freshly gathered leaves. Then they conducted us to the garden where Tolna and the Governor waited. Both gentlemen greeted us with many polite inquiries concerning our rest, then impressively informed us that during the night “The Centauri” had arrived, impatient to meet the four illustrious explorers, the brave men who dared the horrors of the north for the benefit of science. “You will be his guests,” Tolna informed us; “and in his superb ship return with him to Centur.” We bowed deeply, while the young gentleman beckoned to a man who was leading a sextette of prancing horses, three abreast, harnessed to a queer vehicle, a cross between a chariot and hotel bus. The Governor entered, we followed with Tolna, who hurried forward and caught the reins. The horses arched and high-stepped a bit to show their mettle, then dashed into a gallop and clattered noisily through the quiet streets, sombre with the silence of dawn. Windows were raised, touseled heads, sleepy faces, leaned far out to see and cheer us, but the road was clear, no swaying, pushing mob. Our departure was altogether unexpected. We reached the sheds as full day flooded the city. A ship, small, elegant, glistened in the sunlight like silver. Several gentlemen loitered at the foot of the steps, evidently waiting for us. We were presented, then hurried aboard. The Governor, in parting, assured us repeatedly that we would meet again. Tolna handed me a small parcel, his eyes pleading acceptance. Saxe. could boast no longer, I was the happy possessor of a bracelet also, composed of jade with three huge opals sunk in the stone. With a hand-clasp I signified my appreciation, and Tolna locked it upon the upper portion of my arm. We were deferentially escorted to the upper deck, which was carpeted with soft, rich material, deadening footsteps. Advancing to meet us with outstretched arms and a wonderfully kind smile was a tall, powerful, magnificent old man. Saxe. gave an exclamation which ended in a sigh. We all bowed in reverence. He welcomed us. His voice had the melodious sweetness of the flute. He invited us to his cabin, and I stared in awe at “The Centauri” of all Centauri. A long, patriarchal beard flowed over his breast; thick, snowy curls reached to his shoulders. He was much darker than the average Centaurian, with deep, piercing, magnetic, black eyes gleaming beneath heavy black brows. He studied us each in turn, and strange, the silence did not embarrass. While the deep eyes were riveted upon me, unconcernedly I examined the barbaric splendor of the room.