what was seen in the interior of the one in this world was, under suitable conditions, visible to an observer in the corresponding crystal in the other world; and vice versa.  At present, indeed, we do not know of any way in which two crystals could so come en rapport, but nowadays we know enough to understand that the thing is not altogether impossible.  This view of the crystals as en rapport was the supposition that occurred to Mr. Wace, and to me at least it seems extremely plausible...

And where was this other world?  On this, also, the alert intelligence of Mr. Wace speedily threw light.  After sunset, the sky darkened rapidly—­ there was a very brief twilight interval indeed—­and the stars shone out.  They were recognisably the same as those we see, arranged in the same constellations.  Mr. Cave recognised the Bear, the Pleiades, Aldebaran, and Sirius; so that the other world must be somewhere in the solar system, and, at the utmost, only a few hundreds of millions of miles from our own.  Following up this clue, Mr. Wace learned that the midnight sky was a darker blue even than our midwinter sky, and that the sun seemed a little smaller. And there were two small moons! “like our moon but smaller, and quite differently marked,” one of which moved so rapidly that its motion was clearly visible as one regarded it.  These moons were never high in the sky, but vanished as they rose:  that is, every time they revolved they were eclipsed because they were so near their primary planet.  And all this answers quite completely, although Mr. Cave did not know it, to what must be the condition of things on Mars.

Indeed, it seems an exceedingly plausible conclusion that peering into this crystal Mr. Cave did actually see the planet Mars and its inhabitants.  And if that be the case, then the evening star that shone so brilliantly in the sky of that distant vision was neither more nor less than our own familiar earth.

For a time the Martians—­if they were Martians—­do not seem to have known of Mr. Cave’s inspection.  Once or twice one would come to peer, and go away very shortly to some other mast, as though the vision was unsatisfactory.  During this time Mr. Cave was able to watch the proceedings of these winged people without being disturbed by their attentions, and although his report is necessarily vague and fragmentary, it is nevertheless very suggestive.  Imagine the impression of humanity a Martian observer would get who, after a difficult process of preparation and with considerable fatigue to the eyes, was able to peer at London from the steeple of St. Martin’s Church for stretches, at longest, of four minutes at a time.  Mr. Cave was unable to ascertain if the winged Martians were the same as the Martians who hopped about the causeways and terraces, and if the latter could put on wings at will.  He several times saw certain clumsy bipeds, dimly suggestive of apes, white and partially translucent, feeding