“Ah, my love!” sighed Zarlah, bending over me and nervously clasping my hands in hers, “now that the danger is past and you are restored to me, the long hours of agony seem like a dream. But, oh, the anguish of that moment when I beheld another aerenoid lying close to mine, upon the surface of the moon that had intercepted my journey to Earth! My soul cried out that in it lay my beloved, suffocating to death. Who else would have followed me over the dreaded Pole! With wild haste I attached an oxygen respirator to my mouth, and, releasing the air from the car, sprang out upon the surface, little suspecting the danger that lurked there. But so small is the force of gravity upon this moon that I was without perceptible weight, and the tendency to rise with every step I took filled me with terror, and I crept upon my hands and knees to the aerenoid which lay a few yards away. Opening the door, I found you lying apparently lifeless upon the floor. My heart told me that it was my love who lay within Death’s grasp, and, desperate at the thought that you had been so near to me, only to be torn away by the hand of Death, I lifted you up and hastened with you back to the aerenoid I had left. The small amount of gravity now aided me, and I carried you without feeling the burden.
“Filling the car with oxygen and applying regenerating rays, I waited for a sign of life. Oh, the agony of those moments, as in despair I frantically called your name! At last the sign came—a quiver of the lips, a faint breath—and I knew there was hope. Gradually your breathing became stronger, but a terrible fever raged within you. Through long, long hours on this strange globe I knelt beside you, listening to your piercing cries of delirium, as you lived that awful experience over and over again. Little by little, in the cries of agony that rent my heart, I learned how you had come to me a moment too late; how you had followed my aerenoid, and, being unable to stop me, had rushed to the fate that was mine, to be hurled into space, unprepared for such a journey; how you had suffocated, and—oh! my love, as you lay through the long hours, gazing at me with wild unseeing eyes—ever calling my name—imploring me not to rush to my death—I at last despaired of your life, and my soul prepared itself to fly with yours to the life beyond, leaving our bodies clasped in each other’s arms, to circle round the world which had denied us our love until the end of time!
“But suddenly the light of reason came into your eyes—your voice lost its wild accents, and I knew that you had been restored to me. In a few hours now, Harold, the rays will have completed their work, and you will be in full possession of your former strength.”
What a happy future we now looked out upon! The danger of our position upon a heavenly body but a few miles in diameter, with barely enough gravity to hold us on its surface, was forgotten in the great joy of being together and feeling that we should never again be parted.