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Zarlah the Martian by R. Norman Grisewood

Produced by Elaine Walker, Frank van Drogen and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

[Frontispiece: "Zarlah's car was hurled upwards into space with frightful velocity."]

Zarlah The Martian

By

R. Norman Grisewood

1909

_Zarlah, The Martian_

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE STRANGE SHADOW

II. THE MARTIAN

III. THE VOICE FROM ANOTHER WORLD

IV. THE STORY OF MARTIAN LIFE

V. THE HAZARDOUS UNDERTAKING

VI. "AS OTHERS SEE US"

VII. THE MELODY OF FLOWERS AND ZARLAH

VIII. A HUNDRED MILES A MINUTE IN AN AERENOID

IX. THE REALIZATION OF A HOPELESS LOVE

X. ZARLAH'S CONFESSION

XI. THE DISCOVERY AT THE MARTIAN OBSERVATORY

XII. THE WARNING OF DANGER--THE RACE WITH DEATH

XIII. THE END OF A PERILOUS JOURNEY

XIV. HURLED FROM THE MOON

ZARLAH, THE MARTIAN.

CHAPTER I.

THE STRANGE SHADOW.

So thrilling were my experiences during that period, so overcrowded with feverish action and strong emotions was each wonderful moment, and so entirely changed are the conditions of life as I now find it, that it is with considerable difficulty that I recall in detail all that happened prior to my remarkable discovery which opened communication between Earth and Mars. One says "discovery" advisedly, but let it not be imagined that communication with the planet Mars was established as a result of any careful and systematic research, or that I possessed a subtle genius for astronomical science that was destined to introduce into society what must eventually revolutionize it. Nothing could be further from the facts. Into the daily grind of my absolutely uneventful career, burst the almost terrifying revelations with a suddenness that stunned me, while I was engaged in experiments of an entirely extraneous nature. Albeit one wonders that the Martian rays, which have swept our planet with their searching gaze for so many centuries, were not discovered long ago. But this is anticipating my story.

I had reached the age of thirty, when, in the Spring of 19--, I sailed out of New York harbor on board _La Provence_, en route for Paris. It was not so much my purpose to seek pleasure as the determination to turn my eight years of experience in the United States to some avenue of profitable livelihood, that decided me to make the journey, although I looked forward with no small degree of pleasant anticipation to meeting some of my fellow students in the Academie des Sciences in Paris, where I had received five years of excellent training.

My trip across and my subsequent arrival in Paris were without any events of particular interest, and one bright morning in the early summer I found myself comfortably lodged in the house where I had previously boarded while a student. Connected with my rooms, which were at the top of the house, was one of considerable size that I had formerly used as a laboratory, and this I now set about fitting up to serve the same purpose. The daylight found its way into the room through a skylight, and though admirably suited for an artist's studio, it answered my purpose equally as well.


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