ecessary
at any season. So, for a tune, Roland and Margaret withdrew in a great
measure their thoughts from the vicinity of the pole, and devoted
themselves to their work at home.

When Roland Clewe had penetrated with his Artesian ray as deeply into
the earth beneath him as the photic power of his instrument would admit,
he had applied all the available force of his establishment--the men
working in relays day and night--to the manufacture of the instruments
which should give increased power to the penetrating light, which he
hoped would make visible to him the interior structure of the earth, up
to this time as unknown to man as had been the regions of the poles.

Roland had devoted a great deal of time to the arrangement of a system
of reflectors, by which he hoped to make it possible to look down into
the cylinder of light produced by the Artesian ray without projecting
any portion of the body of the observer into the ray. This had been done
principally to provide against the possibility of a shock to Margaret,
such as he received when he beheld a man with the upper part of his body
totally invisible, and a section of the other portion laid bare to the
eye of a person standing in front of it. But his success had not been
satisfactory. It was quite different to look directly down into that
magical perforation at his feet, instead of studying the reflection of
the same, indistinctly and uncertainly revealed by a system of mirrors.

Consequently the plan of reflectors was discarded, and Roland determined
that the right thing to do was to take Margaret into his confidence and
explain to her why he and she should not stand together and look down
the course of the Artesian ray. She scolded him for not telling her all
this before, and a permanent screen was erected around the spot on
which the ray was intended to work, formed of Venetian blinds with fixed
slats, so that the person inside could readily talk and consult with
others outside without being seen by them.

As might well be supposed, this work with the "photic borer," as Clewe
now called his instrument, was of absorbing interest. For a day or two
after it was again put into operation Margaret and Roland could scarcely
tear themselves away from it long enough for necessary sleep and meals,
and several persons connected with the Works were frequently permitted
to witness its wonderful operations.

Down, down descended that cylinder of light, until it had passed