mysterious disappearance would make in the newspapers, and of divers
other matters, such as my own boyhood and my friends, when all at once
my eyes grew dim--and I remembered nothing more.




CHAPTER VII.

ARRIVING IN VENUS.


"Try to speak--there's a good fellow--open your eyes."

I heard the words as in a dream. I recognised the voice of Gazen, but it
seemed to come from the far distance. Opening my eyes I found myself
prostrate on the floor of the smoking room, with the professor and Miss
Carmichael kneeling beside me. There was a look of great anxiety on
their faces.

"I'm all right," said I feebly. "I'm so glad you are safe."

It appears that a short time before, Gazen had closed the scuttles of
the observatory and returned with Miss Carmichael to the saloon, then,
after calling to me without receiving any answer, had opened the door of
the smoking-room and seen me lying in a dead faint. Luckily Miss
Carmichael had acquired some knowledge of medicine, partly from her
father, and without loss of time they applied themselves to bring me
round by the method of artificial respiration employed in cases of
drowning or lightning stroke.