Canadian winter.

Bernardino led him to a pavilion where a number of pleasure-seekers were
gathered and selected a sleigh and two mettlesome horses. She took
the reins from the man, and sprang lightly into the graceful cutter.
Thorndyke followed her and wrapped the thick robes about her feet. Away
they sped like the wind down the smooth road, through a leafless forest.
Overhead the glass roof could not be seen, but a lowering gray cloud
hung over them and a light snow was falling.

"Winter Park is a great resort," the princess explained; "we get tired
of the unchanging climate, and it is pleasant to visit such a place as
this. There is a winter park in every town of any size in Alpha."

They drove along the shore of a beautiful lake, on the frozen surface
of which hundreds of skaters were darting here and there, and passed
hillsides on which crowds of young people were coasting in sleds. When
they had driven about ten miles in a circuitous route she turned the
horses round.

"We had better return," she said; "you have not seen all of the Park,
but we can visit it some other time."

Outside they found their flying-machine awaiting them, and were soon on
the way back to the city. They parted at the fountain in the park, she
hastening to the palace, and he turning to stroll through the little
wood behind him.

He was passing a thick bunch of trees when he was startled by hearing
his name called. He turned round, but at first saw no one.

"Thorndyke!" There it was again, and then he saw a hand beckoning to him
from a hedge of ferns at his right. He stepped back a few paces; a man
came out of the wood.

It was Johnston, his face was white and haggard, his clothing rent and
soiled.

"My God, can it be you?" gasped the Englishman.

"Nobody else," groaned Johnston, cautiously advancing and laying a
trembling hand on the arm of Thorndyke; "but don't talk loud, they will
find me."

"Where did you come from?"

Johnston pointed first to the east, and then swept his hand over the sky
to the west.

"Over the wall," he said despondently. "From the dead lands behind the
sun."

"How did you get back here?"

For reply Johnston parted the fern leaves and pointed to the lank figure
of the tall Alphian, who lay curled up on the grass as if asleep.
"He brought me in that flying-machine there; but he has spent all his
strength in trying to manage the thing, which was out of order, and now
he is helpless. Twice we came wit