my imagination as to the wonders of the universe beyond our
little globe, and because of a never-to-be-forgotten experience of mine
with an aged astronomer several years ago.

This extraordinary man, living the life of a recluse in his own
observatory, which was situated in a lonely part of the country, had, or
at any rate, believed that he had, opened up a communication with the
inhabitants of Mars, by means of powerful electric lights, flashing in
the manner of a signal-lantern or heliograph. I had set him down as a
monomaniac; but who knows? perhaps he was not so crazy after all.

When evening came I turned to the books, and gathered a great deal about
the fiery planet, including the fact that a stout man, a Daniel Lambert,
could jump his own height there with the greatest ease. Very likely; but
I was seeking information on the strange light, and as I could not find
any I resolved to walk over and consult my old friend, Professor Gazen,
the well-known astronomer, who had made his mark by a series of splendid
researches with the spectroscope into the constitution of the sun and
other celestial bodies.

It was a fine clear night. The sky was cloudless and of a deep dark
blue, which revealed the highest heavens and the silvery lustre of the
Milky Way. The great belt of Orion shone conspicuously in the east, and
Sirius blazed a living gem more to the south. I looked for Mars, and
soon found him farther to the north, a large red star, amongst the white
of the encircling constellations.

Professor Gazen was quite alone in his observatory when I arrived, and
busily engaged in writing or computing at his desk.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," said I, as we shook hands; "I know that
you astronomers must work when the fine night cometh."

"Don't mention it," he replied cordially; "I'm observing one of the
nebulas just now, but it won't be in sight for a long time yet."

"What about this mysterious light on Mars. Have you seen anything of
it?"

Gazen laughed.

"I have not," said he, "though I did look the other night."

"You believe that something of the kind has been seen?"

"Oh, certainly. The Nice Observatory, of which Monsieur Perrotin is
director, has one of the finest telescopes in existence, and Monsieur
Javelle is well-known for his careful work."

"How do you account for it?"

"The light is not outside the disc," responded Gazen, "else I should
ascribe it to a small comet. It may be due to an aurora in