Zarlah had thus learned of my proposed visit to Mars, but had not known when the attempt was to be made, until, seeing Almos in evident distress at the recital of the lumaharp, she had feared that the attempt had proved disastrous.  When, however, I evinced my astonishment at seeing her, she knew instantly that before her stood the personality of the man from distant Earth, who had been projected to her in mental pictures, and who was called Harold Lonsdale.  When I spoke to her of my love, she realized that her image had also been projected to my mind, and, as she listened to my impassioned words, she recognized in them the thoughts of love that had accompanied the projection of my image.  Indeed, my every thought of Zarlah, during wave contact, had been projected to her through the medium of this remarkable instrument.

With a keen desire to see and examine the mechanism, by which thoughts could be transferred over millions of miles, I said:  “But where is this wonderful instrument of which you speak, Zarlah?”

We had reached the lake, and now stood on the bank overlooking its glistening surface.

A tremor ran through her slight form as she drew closer to me, and said imploringly:  “You must not ask to see it!  Oh, Harold!  Do you not realize the grief this instrument has brought into our lives?  Have you partaken of the sweetness so deeply, that you fail to perceive the bitterness that lies beneath?  You can be but a beloved memory to me—­the memory of a lover millions of miles away—­but we are separated by that which is far greater than distance!”

Her voice died away in a sob, and, as I drew her gently toward me, she wept bitterly.  Thus had I of Earth brought tears into a world that had not known sorrow for hundreds of years.

“But, dearest,” I argued, tenderly smoothing back the soft brown hair, and striving to cheer her, “we are now commencing on an era of planet communication, and it may not be long before a means is discovered of actually transferring people from one planet to another.  Did not explorers, some years ago, have this in mind, when they attempted to reach the nearest moon?  And even though they failed to reach their goal, who knows that they were not drawn to some planet that was in opposition at that time, and are now prepared for a return journey at the next opposition?  With the complete absence of resistance there is in space, their speed would become terrific—­thousands of miles a minute—­and at such a rate it would be possible to reach a planet in opposition, long before their month’s supply of oxygen became exhausted.  Heat would not be generated as there would be no friction until the planet’s atmosphere was reached, but long before this they would have applied their repelling force, which would reduce their speed, thus enabling them to sail gently through the atmosphere and alight safely on the planet’s surface.”

Although I had not as much confidence in such an achievement as I sought to inspire (well knowing the vast difference between a spiritual transfer and a material one over such a tremendous distance), I wished, above all, to cheer Zarlah.  Indeed, I feared that grief might bring the most serious consequences on Mars.  I was greatly relieved, therefore, upon observing her countenance light up with a sudden interest, as I expressed these sanguine predictions as to the future.