Rhana fought to cast me off, but I was far stronger. My arm was crooked about her throat, and I held Nereid with the other. The glowing metal on Rhana burned against my flesh. We fell--a fluttering gray bird with two enemies clinging to it, pulling it down with their weight. Rhana’s fingers tore at me futilely. I tightened my grip about her throat. I think I recall a crack. Rhana went limp. A black surface of rock rushed up at us and struck us. * * * * * “Jeff! Come back to me.” Soft, whispered, woman’s voice; soft arms were holding me. “Jeff, dear--please!” I struggled back to consciousness as though from an emptiness remote. This was Polly’s voice; these were her arms. I murmured: “Polly, dear?” There was a dark confusion around me; but in the midst of it I lay and knew that I was unhurt. And Polly was here, with me at last. Dr. Plantet was examining me; he said I was unharmed. I remembered Nereid. “Polly, where is she?” Then Dr. Plantet’s voice: “She’s all right, Jeff. Here she is.” And Nereid’s voice: “Is he safe? I--I was afraid it had killed him.” All like a dream. My head was whirling with it, and my ears roared. But I found myself sitting up, with Polly helping me. Dark rocks; heavy air, making me gasp. Grim dark shadows, but the moonlight hung a great silver canopy far overhead. Other figures were here, and Dr. Plantet’s plane stood near by. Its engine smoked; its navigators were moving about it anxiously. A red glow a mile away showed where the other plane had fallen. And nearer, there was a tangled mass of gray-white metal. Rhana’s aëro. “No one left in it alive,” said some one. “We’ve been there.” And Rhana--she lay here on the rocks, broken, crumpled. I did not go to look at her. “Neck broken,” said Dr. Plantet. “Broken when she struck.” I let it pass. A man came up. “I don’t know if we can get up out of here with that engine. The Allen climber is the worst type for a depth like this.” “We’ll start.” Dr. Plantet helped me up. “Good enough, Jeff--you’re fine. You want to start now, Smithby--we’re ready.” Nereid, unhurt and gently smiling, stood before me. My body, and perhaps Rhana’s, had broken her fall. She murmured to Polly: “We said good-by to you and Arturo up there. I’m so glad, Jeff, it did not have to be good-by--not for you and Polly.” But Arturo? There was a distant shout. Two figures, half a mile away, were clambering down the rocks, shouting weakly. They came. Our men from the plane here rushed out to meet them, and came back, carrying the two bloodstained, tattered figures, covered with mud and slime. Their torn and bleeding feet were wrapped with cloth into bulky bundles.