CHAPTER IV

_To the North Pole_ "You stand back! You do not touch me!" The Venus girl fairly hissed the words. Her eyes were dilated; her white hair hung in a tumbling, wavy mass over her shoulders. She stood tense--a frail, girlish figure in a short, grey-cloth mantle, with long grey stockings beneath. We were startled. Georg stopped momentarily; then he jumped at her. It was a false move, for before we could reach her, with a piercing cry, she was tearing at the instruments on the table; her fingers, with burns unheeded, rip…