As I entered he rose to greet me, his old-time cordial smile of welcome lighting his handsome face. Apparently he had not aged a minute, but was still the straight, clean-limbed fighting man of thirty. His keen gray eyes were undimmed, and the only lines upon his face were the lines of iron character and determination that always had been there since first I remembered him, nearly thirty-five years before.
"Well, nephew," he greeted me, "do you feel as though you were seeing a ghost, or suffering from the effects of too many of Uncle Ben's juleps?"
"Juleps, I reckon," I replied, "for I certainly feel mighty good; but maybe it's just the sight of you again that affects me. You have been back to Mars? Tell me. And Dejah Thoris? You found her well and awaiting you?"
"Yes, I have been to Barsoom again, and—but it's a long story, too long to tell in the limited time I have before I must return. I have learned the secret, nephew, and I may traverse the trackless void at my will, coming and going between the countless planets as I list; but my heart is always in Barsoom, and while it is there in the keeping of my Martian Princess I doubt that I shall ever again leave the dying world that is my life.
"I have come now because my affection for you prompted me to see you once more before you pass over forever into that other life that I shall never
