8 P.M.
Night settled black in the Lowlands . The mists gathered . We flew well down -- under the minus two thousand-foot level -- so that out of the mists the highest dome peaks often passed close beneath us . * * * * * At 8 P.M. De Boer flung on the mechanism of invisibility . The interior of the ship faded to its gruesome green darkness . My senses reeled as the current surged through me . Lashed in my chair , I sat straining my adjusting eyes , straining my hearing to cope with this gruesome unreality .