“Yes, that is to say, I have gone through the formal ceremony of marriage.  I have drunk of the cup.”

“But you promised me you would do nothing of the kind.”

“I said I would go back to the earth with you, and I will keep my word.  But I must say that since I agreed to your wishes in the matter, I think you owe me some concession, and I want you to leave me in Womla while you go on to Mercury, and then come back here to pick me up.  That will give me a longer honeymoon.”

“Impossible, my dear fellow—­quite impossible,” replied the professor.  “Venus will be too far out of our way home.  We have no oxygen to waste, and can’t go hunting you in your love affairs all round the solar system.”

“Very well, then, I shall stay behind.”

“But, my dear fellow—­”

“Say no more about it.  I have made up my mind.”

CHAPTER XI.

THE FLYING APE.

It was broad day when I awoke, and oppressively warm in the little cabin.  My first thoughts were of Alumion, the consecration of our loves, and my resolution to abide in Venus.  In getting up I felt so light and buoyant that for a moment I fancied I must be giddy, but on reflection I ascribed the sensation to the intoxication of passion, and the exhilarating atmosphere of the planet.  I looked out of a window towards the blessed island of my dreams, and to my blank amazement found that it was gone! I could neither see anything of the lake, the square, nor the town, but only a bare and rugged platform of weathered rocks, and the cloudy sky above it.

What was the matter?  Had Gazen and Carmichael taken it into their heads to make an excursion, such as we had often planned, in order to observe something more of the country?  Yes, that was it, no doubt.

Under the circumstances I was far from pleased with them for having carried me off without asking my leave, knowing as they should have done, that I would be eager to rejoin Alumion; but experience of travel had taught me that a man must not expect to have it all his own way, and should know when to let his companions have theirs, and above all things to keep his temper.  I, therefore, decided to take their behaviour in good part, more especially as we could always return to the capital as quickly as we had come from it.

Apparently there was nobody in the car but myself.  Wondering, and perhaps a trifle uneasy at the dead stillness, I dressed rapidly and went outside.

The welkin was wholly overcast with dense, murky vapours, which totally hid the sun, and the air was excessively hot, moist, and sultry as before a thunderstorm—­an unusual phenomenon in Womla.  Black boulders and crags, speckled with lichens, and carpeted with coarse herbage, shut out the prospect on every side but one, where the edge of the platform on which the car was resting ran along the sky.  I saw it all now.  Gazen and Carmichael had made a journey to the extreme verge of the country; to the very summit of the precipice which surrounded the Crater Land.