“What's the matter?” he asked; but Johnston made no reply, for the captain had opened the parcels and taken out two suits of silken clothing. “Put them on,” he said, giving a suit of gray to Johnston and one of light blue to Thorndyke. “We shall leave you to change your attire, and I shall soon come for you.” Chapter IV. In a few minutes the captain returned and found his prisoners ready to go with him. Thorndyke looked exceedingly handsome in his glossy tights, close-fitting sack-coat, tinsel belt and low shoes with buckles of gold. The natural color had come back into his cheeks, and he was exhilarated over the prospect of further adventure. It was not so, however, with poor Johnston; his spirits had been so dampened by the physician's words that he could not rally from his despondency. His suit fitted his figure as well as that of the Englishman, but he could not wear it with the same hopeful grace. “Cheer up!” whispered Thorndyke, as they followed the captain through a long corridor, “if we are on our way to the stake or block we are at least going dressed like gentlemen.” Outside they found the streets lined with spectators eagerly waiting to see them pass. The men all had suits like those which had been given the captives, and the women wore flowing gowns like those of ancient Greece. “These are the common people,” whispered Thorndyke to Johnston, “but did you ever dream of such perfect features and physiques? Every face is full of merriment and good cheer. I am curious to see the royalty.” Johnston made no reply, for Captain Tradmos turned suddenly and faced them. “Stand here till I return,” he said, and he went back into the house. “Where in the deuce do you think we are?” pursued Thorndyke with a grim smile. “Haven't the slightest idea,” sighed Johnston, and he shuddered as he looked down the long white street with its borders of human faces. Thorndyke was observant. “There is not a breath of air stirring,” he said; “and yet the atmosphere is like impalpable delicacies to a hungry man's stomach. Look at that big tree, not a leaf is moving, and yet every breath I draw is as fresh as if it came from a mountain-top. Did you ever see such flowers as those? Look at that ocean of orchids.” “They think we are a regular monkey-show,” grumbled the American. “Look how the crowd is gaping and shoving and fighting for places to see us.” “It's your legs they want to behold, old fellow. Do you know I never knew you had such knotty knee-joints; did you ever have rheumatism? I wish I had 'em; they wouldn't put me to death--they would make me the chief attraction in the royal museum.” Thorndyke concluded his jest with a laugh, but the face of his friend did not brighten. “You bet that medical examination meant something serious,” he said. “Pooh!” and the Englishman slapped his friend playfully on the shoulder.