Emmet drew a deep breath of wonder, and it was evident that his unimaginative mind was struggling with new conceptions. There was a gleam of humour in his eyes which contrasted oddly with the suggestion of awe in his voice, as he looked up and answered: "It must be a great place for lovers, professor. And how far away might it be?"
"Let me see—something over eight hundred and eighty millions of miles from the sun. Its distance from us depends"—
"Never mind," Emmet put in. "A few million miles more or less don't bother me any. It makes things down here seem rather small, does n't it? Politics, for example."
"It has the effect of readjusting our perspective a little," Leigh admitted. "I wanted to show you that planet at this time, because it is now at its best. If you waited another seven or eight years, you would see it only as a ball, for the rings would then be edgewise to the plane of your vision. Twice in about thirty years the rings seem to disappear, and twice they fan out to their largest extent. You 'll never see them broader than now."
Without a word Emmet turned back to the telescope.
"You can imagine," Leigh continued, sure of his listener's interest, "how that change puzzled the earlier astronomers. They thought that Saturn was merely a central ball with two handles, like the handles of a soup tureen; and when Galileo watched them grow thinner and thinner and at last disappear, he wondered whether Saturn had devoured his own children, as he expressed it. It was n't until fifty years later that a Dutchman named Huygens discovered the real cause of the variation. You don't mind a few excerpts from my lectures? But wait a minute; let me show you something else."
It was long after eight o'clock, so imperceptibly did the time slip away, when they emerged from the cabin, and Emmet prepared to go. Leigh looked at his watch, and realised with a quickening of his pulses that the visit so eagerly anticipated must be imminent, that Miss Wycliffe might even now be coming up the stairs. What if she had come, and, failing to find him below to guide her, had gone away offended? At the thought, he rushed back into the cabin and lighted the lantern which he used for his transits up and down the tower. When he came out again, he found that Emmet, instead of going, had drifted over to the western parapet, where he stood looking through an embrasure, as if the later engagement of which he had spoken were his last concern.
"My other visitors will be coming soon," Leigh explained, "and I must go to light them up the stairs."
He thought of the probable composition of the party, and reflected that it would simplify the situation if Emmet should go before their arrival. But his visitor failed to accept his implied suggestion. Was he dazed by the immensities into which he had looked, or did he form a sullen resolve to remain and meet that society against which he had so bitterly inveighed? Leigh knew that he could count on Miss Wycliffe's friendliness and upon her tact in meeting a situation, but he guessed that, if her companions were of like mind with the bishop, his present guest might be made to feel that he was an intruder.
"Just look at that car over in the valley," Emmet called, without turning. "It crawls through the darkness like an illuminated centipede."