“Alan,” said Sir John grimly. “I have two other revolvers on board. Masters, if the worst comes to the worst, and I give the warning whistle for Mr. Desmond, go in to him. If he does not turn the weapon on himself do it for him—and keep a spare bullet for yourself.” “I understand, sir.” The six white “birds” had also reached land, and from out of the bodies they saw strange figures appear. The figures were like themselves—yet how different! The men approaching were perhaps under average height, but they were beautifully moulded, muscular with a symmetry of form that was glorious to behold. All but one wore white—a garment that reached to their feet, and which resembled in shape a Roman toga. This white garment was embroidered with richly coloured silks at the neck, wrists and hem. On their heads, they wore fillets of gold. The leader was garbed in a garment of the same shape, but of a glorious blue bound with gold, and his fillet was studded with gems that shone and flashed in the sunlight. All walked up to the Argenta and smiled through the little window at the occupants. Then the leader opened his hands—held them up empty, and with a charming smile, bowed low before them. Then he seemed to issue a command, and all the others, there were altogether perhaps thirty of them, followed his example, and bowed before them. “They look friendly,” said Sir John. “Masters, let the shutters be raised—then stand near Mr. Desmond’s cabin. If I shout—‘view halloo!’ bid him to come out on to the upper deck, but—” “But if I hear the whistle, sir, I shall know what to do.” “Keep your revolver hidden, Alan,” said Sir John, and they made their way to the upper deck. They waited in silence for the ether to be pumped back into its cylinders, and for the shutters to lift. Gradually light came creeping in through chinks here and there—higher and higher was lifted the moving metal, until at last the two men drank in fresh air and bathed in glorious sunshine once again. They found they could scarcely move along the deck—in fact it was with the greatest difficulty they could keep their balance. They felt horribly material and gross. “What is it?” whispered Alan. “The law of gravity, my boy. Wherever we are, I should say it is about three times the strength of that we were used to when we were on Terra. I think we have about trebled our weight.” The strangers had advanced—the leader was smiling graciously. He gave another command, and his band of followers came to a sudden halt, and he approached the Argenta—alone. He addressed them in a language they did not understand. “I do not understand—” commenced Sir John, but before he could say any more the stranger spoke—haltingly it is true, and as if unused to it, but he spoke in English. “Where are we?” cried Sir John in amazement. “You are on, what I think you would call—Jupiter.” “Jupiter?”