matter with me? She had been born on Terra—because she spoke English. And yet how could she be a Terrestrial when she had just said it never had occurred to her that a journey from the earth to Venus was possible? And, if she—ye gods, what a mixup!
Why had she not answered my question as to how she had come to this planet? Why had she told that palpable fib? On what idea had she reared that flimsy structure of absurdity?
All these thoughts came with the quickness of the lightning; indeed, they did not come in succession but all at once; and the result was that my brain became muddled—little wonder, forsooth!—and I could not think at all. Indeed, what light could have broken in had it been otherwise?
And, through my muddled brain, and through my veins, coursing like a flaming flood, rushed a frightful jealousy. For, after all, it seemed certain that Draconda was the woman of Henry's dreams—this woman whom I thus so strangely loved. And I hated him. Yes, I did; shame, shame! A few minutes before, I had never seen Draconda; and now I loved her. And my love, as suddenly as it had come, had engendered in my breast this hate for the kindest and. truest friend any son of Adam has known.
Why does Love, sacred Love, thus make sinners of men? With no little joy, however, I remember that, even as the insensate hatred ran like fire through my veins, I cursed myself for that weakness which had permitted this monster to enter my heart; to find even momentary lodgment there.
Even now, as I write this, now when all is over and done, I burn with the shame of my weakness and that sin born thereof.
"Let us now leave this room," said Draconda, "for it is not meet that you stand, and you are travel-weary. See, that chair of mine is the only one in the room. Here everyone stands save myself; here even the high priest stands, who, in some ways, is stronger than I. And see how the people are staring! They are amazed—and little wonder—to see me talking thus with the dread men from the stars. And doubtless you are amazed as they."
"More than they can imagine," said Henry Quainfan.
"O Draconda," I said, becoming bold, "it is a mystery for which I can find no key—your statement that it had never occurred to you that the gap between the earth and this planet could be crossed by mortal men."
"Can you cut this Gordian knot, O Farnermain: how did you go to the earth?"
"Which means this: you were born on Venus."
"Of a surety I was—on this very island."
"O Draconda, why do you befool us like this?"
"Like what?" she queried sweetly.
"Pardon me, O Queen, but one born here on Venus, unless a Terrestrial had come, could not know English."
"Could not?" she exclaimed, "How do you know that? But, after all, it is no wonder that you think my words untrue. Have patience, O Farnermain, I pray you. All will be explained—or maybe you will see."
She looked at me whimsically.
"He has keen eyes who sees when he can't see."
"Which means that a lantern will not help a mole."
"My Farnermain," said the queen, laughing and shaking a finger at me, "why put a rope to the eye of the needle?
"However," she went on, "it is no wonder that you think I have said the thing which is not; but it is a fact that I was born on this planet, in this city, in this very palace of Conderogan, and that I never have seen or heard of a Terrestrial here before you. You, my Farnermain, have made the most amazing and mysterious journey ever made by mortal men, and doubtless you have glimpsed deep into the terrible and wondrous arcana of Creation, or 'tis like you would not be near to him who conquered the icy deeps of space, for knowledge calls to knowledge, even as ignorance sings in its darkness; but you have not unlocked all the mysteries, O Farnermain, else would you know how it comes that English falls from my lips, how I know Greek and Latin, Hebrew and what not. Verily, you are stupid!"
And she stamped her pretty sandaled foot lightly on the carpeted floor, smiling at me archly.
"Of a truth, you are stupid. But no, you are not. Forgive me, How could you know? And yet why can you not see? I have told you the fact: I am a—what do you call us Venus people? Cythereans, Venusians? What name do you use?"
"Usually Venusians."
"Well, my Farnermain, I am a Venusian, and no Terrestrial ever set foot on this planet before you three. Have patience, O Farnermain. Soon will the mystery be unlocked for you."
"Pardon me, O Draconda," I said humbly; and yet, for the life of me, I could not believe that she had spoken the truth, nor could I see why she should tell us a lie about the matter. "Pardon me, I pray you, O Draconda; but, to my poor intellect—"
"Nay, mention it not," she interrupted, smiling her quick and wondrous smile. "And now, if it be favored of you, my guests, we shall leave this room—but no, not yet; almost had I forgotten my sister."
"Does she too speak English?" Henry asked, "But, then, surely she does."
"No; not a word can she speak," was Draconda's amazing answer. "She does not even know what English is."
Draconda's sister was standing on one side of the throne, and near her, was our old friend The Wolf, whose face was as dark as Erebus.
The queen said something to the girl, who descended from the dais und came slowly toward us, like a timid deer. She had dark brown hair and eyes of blue, and was exceedingly beautiful. Her age I put at about eighteen.
"My sister," said the queen, takingthe girl's hand, "my only sister—Nytes."
Draconda made the introduction as well as the language difficulty allowed, and very well did she make it under that difficulty. The fair Nytes said she would render a million thanks to the gods for this occasion of infinite felicity (though Draconda did not translate literally) and made a remarkable and beautiful genuflection; and Henry and myself, wishing to render back as much as we had received from the fair Venusian, kowtowed a magnificent salaam, which, I noted, caused the corners of Draconda's mouth to twitch with suppressed amusement.
No doubt we did it awkwardly, for, if one wishes to salaam well, he must salaam often.
"Is that the manner wherewith you now go through an introduction on the earth?" she asked. "Then of a surety, have many and mighty changes occurred in recent years—some of them, I fear, not for the better."
"Nothing is constant but change, O Draconda," I made grave answer, "as no doubt you have heard before."
She laughed a little. When she spoke, it was in a changed voice.
"There," she said, "is he who imprisoned you in that mountain tomb and, as it were, wounded your companion so sorely."
And I saw a troubled expression in her eyes as they rested, in a manner somewhat vacuous, on the handsome face of Ta Antom, who, like every other Ve-
