For several minutes they stamped about their cramped shelter, beating their arms round their bodies in an effort to keep up their circulation. As the time slipped by without further sound of the Sphere their hopes dropped still lower. The situation was becoming desperate.
Their dismal reflections were abruptly interrupted by a resumption of the humming sound, heralding the approach of the Sphere again. Both men stiffened, listening intently, the spark of revived hope burning again within their breasts as the fleeting moments passed. Would the Sphere come close enough in this game of blind man’s buff to discover them? Or would it pass them by again, leaving them finally to their doom?
The prospect of freezing to death in the arctic region of a strange planet seemed a dreadful thing. In the heat of battle a man may find death in the midst of wild enthusiasm and patriotism. But here, hemmed in by a wall of beautiful, but deadly, flying flakes, there was no excitement to mask the death awaiting them—only a fearful realization of their fate, millions of miles away from their countrymen—alone! Yet in those fateful moments Robert’s thoughts were mainly of Zola. Would he ever see her again?
With leaping heart he realized that the Sphere was coming closer—closer than before. He strained his eyes as he endeavored to pierce the intangible walls of their vast prison. Ah, what was that dark blur hurtling through the white froth? It was passing them by again. He joined with Taggert in his shouts. Fools, to think their muffled cries could rise above the tumult of the gale and the whir of the Sphere’s machinery, piercing its thick, metal walls!
The fast-fading blur seemed to pause in its flight a moment. But even as they dared to hope, it passed out of sight again. Then quite abruptly it appeared again, this time moving toward them slowly, less than a dozen feet above the ground. The Sphere’s bulging walls plowed through the snow as it swooped down, sending up a great flurry of the fine flakes. Robert caught himself idly likening it to a cannon ball fired into a great bin of flour.
His next recollection was of stumbling up the short flight of metal stairs into the comfortable warmth of the Sphere’s main chamber, aided by Professor Palmer.
The Martians seemed genuinely concerned over their plight, and offered a confusion of advice. Fortunately, neither Robert nor Taggert had suffered any serious damage from their severe buffeting in the elements and were soon quite comfortable.
Robert, unable to shake off a strange feeling that the princess was in danger, and anxious to return to her in all haste, insisted on operating the Sphere again. The big metal ball fairly quivered as he utilized its maximum power to reduce the distance between them and the capital as rapidly as possible.
Exerting the full power of the disk, Robert shot the Sphere upward. Suddenly they emerged from the gray twilight of flying flakes into the sunshine. Beneath them the turbulent mists boiled and tumbled as if with anger over the escape of their prey.
A few minutes later Robert checked the Sphere’s upward flight, darting southward toward the metropolis and his princess at a terrific speed.