He pushed me aside when I reached over and attempted to possess myself of the letter, and did it with an ugly look in his eyes which warned me it was time to desist. Besides Maurice was against me, and I drew back sulkily to my own side of the fire and listened while Philpot read the following:—
“Dear Friend:—I greet you. Business of an important nature has kept me from fulfilling my promise to visit you this month. I have about completed my observations on the manners and social customs of China and Farther India, and now propose to visit that ancient shrine of the illuminati, Angkor, after which I shall probably return to Mars by way of Thibet. If you have any communication which you may desire to forward to the brethern in that planet, it would be well for you to embrace this opportunity, for there is no telling when another may occur. Prepare whatever may suggest itself, and I will drop in on you sometime before I depart for Thibet, but cannot at the present writing say just when. Would that you could be persuaded to accompany me, but I presume it would be quite useless to urge you further.
Yours, ever in the faith,
Written at Panompin.
Mr. Radma Gungeet, Benares.
“There, Wylde, is your letter; you may have it now if you want it so bad. Since it is written in Hindustanee, it is not likely that I shall be contradicted by you as to the nature of its contents. Singular name that. Now I come to think of it, in Hindustanee, it means the planet Mars.”
As the Doctor spoke, he tossed the sheet across the fire, just as the thunder, which for some time had been silent, came crashing about the tower with a rattle and roar which sent us all three to our feet.
