eturn from
the Twilight Country that Miela reminded me of father and my duty to him.
"You have forgotten, my husband. But I have not. Your world--it calls you
now. You must go back."

Go back home--to father and dear little Beth! I had not realized how much
I had wanted it.

"What you have done for our nation--for our girls--can never be repaid,
Alan. And you can do more in later years, perhaps. But now your father
needs you--and we must think of him."

I cast aside every consideration of what changes would first have to be
made here on Mercury, and decided in that moment to go.

"But you must go with me, Miela," I said, and then, as I thought of
something else, I added gently: "You will, won't you, little wife? For you
know I cannot leave you now."

She smiled her tender little smile.

"'Whither thou goest, I will go,' my husband," she quoted softly, "'for
thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.'"

We were ready to start at the time of the next inferior conjunction of
Mercury with the earth. At our combined pleading, and with the permission
of his associates, Fuero was persuaded to take command of the nation
during my absence; and I felt I was leaving affairs in able hands.

Lua refused to accompany us; but she urged Anina to go, and the little
girl was ready enough to take advantage of her mother's permission.

Though he said nothing, I shall never forget Mercer's face as this
decision was made.

The vehicle in which Miela had made her former trip was still lying in the
valley where we had left it. We went away privately, only Lua and Fuero
accompanying us out of the city.

Lua parted with her two daughters quietly. Her emotions at seeing them go
she concealed under that sweet, gentle reserve which was characteristic of
her always.

"Promise me you will be careful of her, Alan," she said softly as she
kissed me at parting.

* * * * *

We landed in the Chilean Andes, with that patient statue of the Christ to
welcome us back to earth. The Trans-Andean Railroad runs near it, and we
soon were in the city of Buenos Aires. The two girls, with wings shrouded
in their long cloaks, walked about its crowded streets with a wonderment
I can only vaguely imagine. We had only what little money I had taken with
me to Mercury. I interviewed a prominent banker of the city, told him in
confidence who I was, and from him obtained necessary funds.

We cabled father then, and he