My coming had been discovered. A college of astronomers in an observatory which stands on an elevation just outside the city, had their great telescope directed toward the Earth,--just as our telescopes were directed to Mars at that time,--and they saw me and made me out when I was yet a great way off. They were able to determine the exact spot whereon I would land, about a mile distant from the observatory, and repaired thither with all possible speed,--and they have very perfect means of locomotion, superior even to our electrical contrivances. Before I had time to look about me, I found myself surrounded, and unmistakably friendly hands outheld to welcome me. There were eight or ten of the astronomers,--some young, some middle-aged, and one or two elderly men. All of them, including the youngest, who had not even the dawn of a beard upon his chin, and the oldest, whose hair was silky white, were strikingly handsome. Their features were extraordinarily mobile and expressive. I never saw a more lively interest manifest on mortal countenances than appeared on theirs, as they bent their glances upon me. But their curiosity was tempered by a dignified courtesy and self-respect. They spoke, but of course I could not understand their words, though it was easy enough to interpret the tones of their voices, their manner, and their graceful gestures. I set them down for a people who had attained to a high state of culture and good-breeding. I suddenly felt myself growing faint, for, although I had not fasted long, a journey such as I had just accomplished is exhausting. Near by stood a beautiful tree on which there was ripe fruit. Some one instantly interpreted the glance I involuntarily directed to it, and plucked a cluster of the large rich berries and gave them to me, first putting one in his own mouth to show me that it was a safe experiment. While I ate,--I found the fruit exceedingly refreshing,--the company conferred together, and presently one of the younger men approached and took me gently by the arm and walked me away toward the city. The others followed us. We had not to go farther than the first suburb. My companion, whom they called Severnius, turned into a beautiful park, or grove, in the midst of which stood a superb mansion built of dazzling white stone. His friends waved us farewells with their hands,--we responding in like manner,--and proceeded on down the street. I learned afterwards that the park was laid out with scientific precision. But the design was intricate, and required study to follow the curves and angles. It seemed to me then like an exquisite mood of nature. The trees were of rare and beautiful varieties, and the shrubbery of the choicest. The flowers, whose colors could not declare themselves,--it being night,--fulfilled their other delightful function and tinctured the balmy air with sweet odors. Paths were threaded like white ribbons through the thick greensward.