"I will bear with you for ever. But you must fight on. You have not won yet." "No, nor ever shall. I have fought my last fight. The victory may go to whosoever desires it." On this she wept. I could not bear that she should suffer from my misery, and so, guarding carefully her injured arm, I drew her close to me. And then, out of the darkness of the night, far over the solitude of the sea, there came to us the sound of a voice. That voice was a woman's wail. The girl beside me shuddered and drew back. I did not ask her if she had heard. I knew she had heard. We arose and stood apart without any explanation. From that moment a caress would have been a sacrilege. I did not hear that weird sound again, nor aught else for an hour or more save the bursting of the breakers on the crags of Java. I kept no record of the commonplaces of our voyage thereafter. It only remains for me to say that I arrived in England broken in health and bankrupt in fortune. Brande left no money. His formula for the transmutation of metals is unintelligible to me. I can make no use of it. Edith Metford remains my friend. To part utterly after what we have undergone together is beyond our strength. But between us there is a nameless shadow, reminiscent of that awful night in the Arafura Sea, when death came very near to us. And in my ears there is always the echo of that voice which I heard by the shores of Java when the misty borderland between life and death seemed clear. My story is told. I cannot prove its truth, for there is much in it to which I am the only living witness. I cannot prove whether Herbert Brande was a scientific magician possessed of _all_ the powers he claimed, or merely a mad physicist in charge of a new and terrible explosive; nor whether Edward Grey ever started for Labrador. The burthen of the proof of this last must be borne by others--unless it be left to Grey himself to show whether my evidence is false or true. If it be left to him, a few years will decide the issue. I am content to wait. THE END. LONDON: DIGBY, LONG AND CO., PUBLISHERS, 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. ROBERT CROMIE'S BOOKS _OPINIONS OF THE PRESS_ A PLUNGE INTO SPACE WITH PREFACE BY JULES VERNE _Times._--The story is written with considerable liveliness, the scientific jargon is sufficiently perplexing, and the characters are sketched with some humour. _Chronicle._--A strange, weird, mysterious story that holds the reader spell-bound, from the first page to the last. _Athenæum._--Mr. Cromie's Utopia is charming, and the quasi-scientific detail of the expedition is given with so much integrity that we hardly wonder at the marvellous results accomplished. _Truth._--A very clever description of a flight through space to Mars ... the book is extremely interesting and suggestive; especially, perhaps, where it attacks the theories of Mr. George and "Looking Backwards."