“Indeed, yes, my friend. Some time ago, some of our Keemarnians, while experimenting in the Heavens, found themselves outside our atmosphere. They never returned. Across the roadway between the red planet ‘Mydot’—Mars I think you call it—and ourselves, are many rapidly moving meteoric bodies. We fear that our gallant brothers met one of these, and were destroyed. Many men of science went after these lost ones but none ever returned. Through our wonderful glass, we saw one of our air birds in space; it was unable to reach home. Then was the great magnetic ray discovered. In the shortest space of time it was perfected, and played on the silent air bird. Gradually it was drawn nearer and nearer to our shores until it was within our atmosphere, and was able to land in safety. Since that time, if air birds venture too high, we have nearly always been able to save the adventurous spirits, and in your case, we brought you safely here.” “It’s a wonderful invention,” said Sir John, “and I can imagine would have been of immense value to our airmen on earth.” Kulmervan then presented them to Waiko, and Mavis was led to a seat of honour on the dais. They spent a most enjoyable time, and the whole entertainment was very like what they were accustomed to on earth. Games were played,—games with balls and racquets, and balls and hoops, and between the games there was singing and dancing. Refreshments were served in a hall adjoining, and consisted mainly of luscious fruits and dainty cakes and pastries. The many Keemarnians they met, invited them in turn to parties and entertainments, and they felt they had more invitations than they could safely accept. “Never accept,” whispered Waz-Y-Kjesta to them all, “unless you mean to honour your host with your presence. A refusal never offends, but to accept and then to disappoint, is unforgivable.” Suddenly in the middle of the dancing a trumpet blew loud and clear. The band ceased and the couples stood still. Then rang out a fanfare of royal welcome, and the guests rushed to the entrance hall in great excitement, waving and cheering. “It must be some one of importance who is coming,” said Desmond. “Perhaps it is the Rorka,” suggested Mavis. There was a roll of drums, and then, on a litter carried by six stalwart men, entered a girl of perhaps eighteen years. The cortége stopped and Kulmervan bent low before her, and kissed her proffered hand. She bowed ever so slightly, and he assisted her from her cushioned throne. She stood beside him, and proved to be quite small, not more than five feet in height, but of a beauty almost indescribable. She was very fair and fragile. Her eyes were purple-blue fringed with long, black lashes. Her fillet was of gold, and was enriched with gems the colour of her eyes, while her robe of blue hung in folds about her. Perhaps it was her lips that impressed the watchers most. A perfect bow—they were of a vivid scarlet that contrasted