“Winter Park is a great resort,” the princess explained; “we get tired of the unchanging climate, and it is pleasant to visit such a place as this. There is a winter park in every town of any size in Alpha.” They drove along the shore of a beautiful lake, on the frozen surface of which hundreds of skaters were darting here and there, and passed hillsides on which crowds of young people were coasting in sleds. When they had driven about ten miles in a circuitous route she turned the horses round. “We had better return,” she said; “you have not seen all of the Park, but we can visit it some other time.” Outside they found their flying-machine awaiting them, and were soon on the way back to the city. They parted at the fountain in the park, she hastening to the palace, and he turning to stroll through the little wood behind him. He was passing a thick bunch of trees when he was startled by hearing his name called. He turned round, but at first saw no one. “Thorndyke!” There it was again, and then he saw a hand beckoning to him from a hedge of ferns at his right. He stepped back a few paces; a man came out of the wood. It was Johnston, his face was white and haggard, his clothing rent and soiled. “My God, can it be you?” gasped the Englishman. “Nobody else,” groaned Johnston, cautiously advancing and laying a trembling hand on the arm of Thorndyke; “but don't talk loud, they will find me.” “Where did you come from?” Johnston pointed first to the east, and then swept his hand over the sky to the west. “Over the wall,” he said despondently. “From the dead lands behind the sun.” “How did you get back here?” For reply Johnston parted the fern leaves and pointed to the lank figure of the tall Alphian, who lay curled up on the grass as if asleep. “He brought me in that flying-machine there; but he has spent all his strength in trying to manage the thing, which was out of order, and now he is helpless. Twice we came within an inch of sinking down into the internal fires. The last time we escaped only by the breadth of a hair; if he had not had the endurance of a man of iron he would have succumbed to the heat and we would have been lost. We sank so far down that I became insensible and never knew a thing till the fresh air revived me. See, my beard and hair are singed, and look how he is blistered. Poor fellow! He is a hero.” Johnston stepped back and shook the Alphian, but the poor fellow's head only rolled to one side, showing his bloodshot eyes. He was insensible. “He is in a bad fix,” said Thorndyke; “where did he come from?” “Banished like myself; we met over there in the dark and roamed about together.” “What are you going to do?” “I don't know; I was following his lead. We will both be put to death if we are discovered.” “Did he not tell you his plan?”