reason for its unseemly behavior, first knocking its toughened crust so
rudely against the earth and then coquetting in this manner with Mars. It
certainly no longer shows any respect for the race it has nourished, and
hence I see that my day, too, will soon be over. Whatever may be your fate
you will doubtless see no more of me after this excursion is ended."

In the light of history this seemed extremely probable, and yet Mona was
not half as concerned about it as I was. I thought she ought to have shown
more anxiety about her future for my sake if not for her own, and I
ventured to say, although in a rather doleful tone:

"I hope, Mona, if the doctor and I are freed from this peril that you will
escape with us. If I thought there was no hope of that, I am sure I should
propose that we return at once to the middle of the moon and be buried
together."

She laughed aloud as she sang out in joyous notes:

"Your mournful voice, my ardent friend, makes me think you would not be
very happy with the last alternative. But cheer up, we will all stand by
each other to the last." It was in her abounding good nature and in her
faculty for inspiring us with her own hopeful disposition that we found
Mona fulfilling her promise to take care of us.

But now our attention could not be diverted from the planet which was
rapidly growing before our eyes. As we approached nearer and nearer every
minute, flying at such a terrific rate and aimed, apparently, for a direct
collision, it may be imagined that the doctor and I, in spite of Mona's
presence, began to be exceedingly anxious lest our journey and our lives
should meet an abrupt and common end.