The Land of the Changing Sun

WILL. N. HARBEN




Chapter I.

The balloon seemed scarcely to move, though it was slowly sinking
toward the ocean of white clouds which hung between it and the
earth.

The two inmates of the car were insensible; their faces were
bloodless, their cheeks sunken. They were both young and
handsome. Harry Johnston, an American, was as dark and sallow as
a Spaniard. Charles Thorndyke, an English gentleman, had yellow
hair and mustache, blue eyes and a fine intellectual face. Both
were tall, athletic in build and well-proportioned.

Johnston was the first to come to consciousness as the
balloon sank into less rarefied atmosphere. He opened his eyes
dreamily and looked curiously at the white face of his friend in
his lap. Then he shook him and tried to call his name, but his
lips made no sound. Drawing himself up a little with a hand on
the edge of the basket, he reached for a water-jug and sprinkled
Thorndyke's face. In a moment he was rewarded by seeing the eyes
of the latter slowly open.

"Where are we?" asked Thorndyke in a whisper.