Together they watched the eastern sky grow rapidly brighter while the others stood apart as if understanding their unvoiced desire to be alone.
“A strange dream came to me recently,” she murmured. “This brings it all back. I dreamed that I was alone in a vast jungle of horrible, twisted growths of huge thorns from which I could find no escape.”
“Then you came upon a small clearing,” Robert interrupted before he thought.
“Why—how did you know?” she breathed, her eyes alight with astonishment.
“I—I was there. That is, I, too, dreamed that I was there and that you came.”
The sun’s dazzling edge peered over the rim of the horizon, its warm rays nestling in her pale gold hair.
“And did—did you—oh, I know it sounds absurd—but did you not see me one night off in space as you journeyed to me in your wonderful Sphere?”
“That is how you knew I would come to you? How well do I remember! But then, as before, you slipped away from me. I have a terrible fear you will fade away, leaving me but a dream to remember you by.”
“No, no, no!” she cried earnestly; and then, as if suddenly embarrassed by the subtle admission just made, she flushed and turned away. As they walked quietly back toward the Sphere where the others waited there was a song in Robert’s heart.
Once more they embarked on their journey toward the polar region. The gyrostats now operated faultlessly. Robert rose slowly to an altitude of about 2,000 feet.