“Look through it, my good friend. That’s what I gave it to you for.”
Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the muscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this. The star, which to the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of light, now became clearly split into two bright but minute suns, the larger of which was still yellow, while its smaller companion was a beautiful blue. But this was not all. Apparently circulating around the yellow sun was a comparatively small and hardly distinguishable satellite, which seemed to shine, not by its own, but by reflected light.... Maskull lowered and raised his arm repeatedly. The same spectacle revealed itself again and again, but he was able to see nothing else. Then he passed back the lens to Krag, without a word, and stood chewing his underlip.
“You take a glimpse too,” scraped Krag, proffering the glass to Nightspore.
Nightspore turned his back and began to pace up and down. Krag laughed sardonically, and returned the lens to his pocket. “Well, Maskull, are you satisfied?”
“Arcturus, then, is a double sun. And is that third point the planet Tormance?”
“Our future home, Maskull.”
Maskull continued to ponder. “You inquire if I am satisfied. I don’t know, Krag. It’s miraculous, and that’s all I can say about it.... But I’m satisfied of one thing. There must be very wonderful astronomers at Starkness and if you invite me to your observatory I will surely come.”
“I do invite you. We set off from there.”
“And you, Nightspore?” demanded Maskull.
“The journey has to be made,” answered his friend in indistinct tones, “though I don’t see what will come of it.”