Although my thoughts of Zarlah had been interrupted by the excitement incident to finding Reon at the observatory, I was soon absorbed once more in the subject ever foremost in my mind. With my head resting on my hands, I sat hour after hour, endeavoring to conceive some plan—no matter how hazardous—that would result in my being able to remain on Mars with Zarlah. But the gloom of despair only deepened, and all solutions were perforce dismissed.
At my feet lay the slip of paper which bore the instructions for Reon. Many times during the long hours of deep thought, had my eyes rested upon it, only to seek a new object as a new problem confronted me. Suddenly, starting to my feet and snatching the paper from the ground, I uttered an exclamation of astonishment. For the first time, I noticed the hour at which Reon was to carry out his instructions—it was three hours before the time for my departure!
Almos had, then, deliberately planned to take my place on Earth, and in return to give me his on Mars. How I had been kept in ignorance of these plans, I knew not, but, as I stood staring at the paper in my hand, my mind gradually comprehended all that Almos had, until now, so successfully hidden from me.
Impelled by these strange revelations, I hastened to the sleeping chamber, and glanced eagerly around in search of some message that would explain more fully the reason for Almos' departure to Earth. Nor was I disappointed, for upon the couch lay a letter addressed to "Harold Lonsdale." Almos had naturally supposed that I would retire soon after making the discovery that he had gone to Earth, and that I would then find the letter which, in this chamber, was safe from Reon's observation.
As I read the contents my eyes filled with tears of overwhelming gratitude, and my heart went out in sincere affection to him who, in this brief message, which was the sacrifice of a strong and noble character, offered me his life on Mars with the love that he had known was mine, but which otherwise I could never possess.
Pacing the room under the influence of strong emotions, I laid the letter down, only to pick it up again and reread its contents carefully. No other man, living on Earth or Mars, could have done as much for me as had Almos this night. He had not only saved my life, but had given to me the thing that was far dearer. It was a princely gift, and my mind, trained as it had been to the cramped confines of a sordid existence in a mercenary world, was slow to comprehend the limitless wealth of happiness and love which it bestowed upon me. Sleep was impossible, and I longed for the morning, that I might hasten to my beloved, and tell her of the happiness that was ours.