The girl’s pursuers dashed across the garden and scrambled over the wall after her. She tripped over her long gown and fell. Before she could recover, one of them was upon her. Together they lifted her struggling form and carried it back toward the massive door in the wall. There they halted while one of them fitted a key to the lock. A moment later it swung open. Just as they were taking her through the door, she screamed, and one of her captors clapped his hand over her mouth roughly. Then the door shut softly, but the sound of a heavy lock shot home reached Robert. With the shutting of the door Robert suddenly was released from his trance. With a mighty bound he made for the wall--only to find himself standing awake in the middle of the floor of his bedchamber! The vividness of his dream had left him trembling with excitement. He felt convinced that he had just visioned a review of the actual events of earlier in the evening. Prompted by the impulse of the moment, and realizing the impossibility of further sleep that night, Robert donned his clothes and quietly passed out into the garden. He shivered as the chilled atmosphere struck him, and turned up his coat collar. The glory of Phobus no longer lit the crystal-clear sky, but in the soft light from the brilliant stars he could make out the wall running into the recess. He found the stout door as securely locked as before. Remembering his increased agility on Mars, Robert decided not to be restricted by a mere door while his reckless mood lasted. A jump and a clutching of the cornice quickly put him astride the wall with no discomfort save a bumped knee. A drop on the other side and he found himself in the garden of his dream. “Now that I’ve arrived, what next!” he mused. Looking round the enclosure he observed that it corresponded exactly in size and shape to the one on their side of the wall. All windows were dark. There was nothing to suggest the disturbance of the early evening. The ladder--if indeed, there had been a ladder there--was gone. But the mass of vines on the wall corresponded exactly to that in his dream! “I suppose if I were a real hero I would dash in and rescue the distressed maiden in some way or other,” Robert muttered, scratching his head in perplexity. As if in answer to his quandary a window above scraped lightly. A folded piece of paper fell at his feet. He looked up just in time to see a graceful, ivory-white hand being withdrawn. Was it the draperies or her garments that he saw behind the pane as the window was lowered gently! The paper was crammed into his pocket and, after a swift glance around, he hurriedly scaled the wall, realizing the uselessness and folly of attempting there to read by the light of a match a note written in a still unfamiliar language. 14 “Boys, howdy,” Taggert greeted them.