"With pleasure."
"You remember the wager—a thousand to a hundred sovereigns that I win."
He was the better player, and although I had a slight advantage in the game as it stood, I was by no means certain of winning, especially as I was tired and sleepy; but ever since my sojourn in Venus, my intellect had been unusually clear and active. I played as I had never played before, and in three moves had won the wager.
"That will pay my travelling expenses," said I, pocketing his cheque.
I ought perhaps to mention that Professor Gazen carried out his intention of reading a paper to the Royal Astronomical Society on his alleged discovery of a diurnal nutation or "wobbling" of the planet Venus; but I regret to say that owing to preconceived opinions and personal prejudices, his ingenious theory met with a reception far below its merits. By the terms of our agreement he was forbidden to divulge the secret of our expedition until my own account appeared, but some telescopic observations he had made since coming home had provided him with independent proofs.
"Do you think Professor Possil will be present?" said I to him, as we dined together before we went to the meeting.
"Sure to be," replied Gazen. "He never misses an opportunity of attacking me. 'Tis the nature of the animal. But I flatter myself I shall get the laugh on him this time."
The hall was full. The hearty welcome of the Fellows showed their high appreciation of Professor Gazen, and made me feel quite proud of his acquaintance. They listened to his discourse on the movements of Venus, and his new hypothesis, with all the solemnity of a Roman senate deliberating on the destiny of a nation. When he had finished in a salvo of applause, the president, a man of grave and dignified demeanour, as became his office, complimented the author on his communication, which from the startling novelty of the subject would, he believed, give rise to an interesting discussion, and after calling on Professor Possil, he resumed his chair. That illustrious man, whose insignificant appearance belied his fame, responded to the invitation with a show of reluctance, from a conspicuous place in the front row of the audience, and immediately assailed the new hypothesis in his most uncompromising fashion.
"Never in his experience of the Society," he said, "and never perhaps in the history of astronomy, had an alleged discovery of such magnitude and consequence been promulgated on the strength of such flimsy evidence;" and after traversing in detail all the arguments of his opponent, he declared it his firm conviction that the effects which Professor Gazen had thought fit to advance as a "discovery," were neither more nor less than an optical illusion, not to say a mental hallucination.