A Trip to Venus | Page 4

the Kaiser Sea, or a night message in the autumn manoeuvres of
the Martians, who are, no doubt, very warlike; or even the advertisement of a new soap."
"Seriously, what do you think of it?" I asked.
"I confess it's a mystery to me," he answered, pondering deeply; and then, as if struck by
a sudden thought, he added: "I wonder if it's any good trying the spectroscope on it?"
So saying, he attached to the telescope a magnificent spectroscope, which he employed in
his researches on the nebulæ, and renewed his observation.
"Well, that's the most remarkable thing in all my professional experience," he exclaimed,
resigning his place at the instrument to me.
"What is?" I demanded, looking into the spectroscope, where I could distinguish several
faint streaks of coloured light on a darker background.
"You know that we can tell the nature of a substance that is burning by splitting up the
light which comes from it in the prism of a spectroscope. Well, these bright lines of
different colours are the spectrum of a luminous gas."
"Indeed! Have you any idea as to the origin of the blaze?"
"It may be electrical--for instance, an aurora. It may be a volcanic eruption, or a lake of
fire such as the crater of Kilauea. Really, I can't say. Let me see if I can identify the
bright lines of the spectrum."
I yielded the spectroscope to him, and scarcely had he looked into it ere he cried out--
"By all that's wonderful, the spectrum has changed. Eureka! It's thallium now. I should
know that splendid green line amongst a thousand."
"Thallium!" I exclaimed, astonished in my turn.
"Yes," responded Gazen, hurriedly. "Make a note of the observation, and also of the time.
You will find a book for the purpose lying on the desk."
I did as directed, and awaited further orders. The silence was so great that I could plainly
hear the ticking of my watch laid on the desk before me. At the end of several minutes
the professor cried--
"It has changed again: make another note."
"What is it now?"
"Sodium. The yellow bands are unmistakable."
A deep stillness reigned as before.
"There she goes again," exclaimed the professor, much excited. "Now I can see a couple
of blue lines. What can that be? I believe it's indium."
Another long pause ensued.
"Now they are gone," ejaculated Gazen once more. "A red and a yellow line have taken
their place. That should be lithium. Hey, presto!--and all was dark."
"What's the matter?"
"It's all over." With these words he removed the spectroscope from the telescope, and
gazed anxiously at the planet "The light is gone," he continued, after a minute. "Perhaps
another cloud is passing over it. Well, we must wait. In the meantime let us consider the
situation. It seems to me that we have every reason to be satisfied with our night's work.
What do you think?"

There was a glow of triumph on his countenance as he came and stood before me.
"I believe it's a signal," said I, with an air of conviction.
"But how?"
"Why should it change so regularly? I've timed each spectrum, and found it to last about
five minutes before another took its place."
The professor remained thoughtful and silent.
"Is it not by the light which comes from them that we have gained all our knowledge of
the constitution of the heavenly bodies?" I continued. "A ray from the remotest star
brings in its heart a secret message to him who can read it. Now, the Martians would
naturally resort to the same medium of communication as the most obvious, simple, and
practicable. By producing a powerful light they might hope to attract our attention, and
by imbuing it with characteristic spectra, easily recognised and changed at intervals, they
would distinguish the light from every other, and show us that it must have had an
intelligent origin."
"What then?"
"We should know that the Martians had a civilisation at least as high as our own. To my
mind, that would be a great discovery--the greatest since the world began."
"But of little use to either party."
"As for that, a good many of our discoveries, especially in astronomy, are not of much
use. Suppose you find out the chemical composition of the nebulæ you are studying, will
that lower the price of bread? No; but it will interest and enlighten us. If the Martians can
tell us what Mars is made of, and we can return the compliment as regards the earth, that
will be a service."
"But the correspondence must then cease, as the editors say."
"I'm not so sure of that."
"My dear fellow! How on earth are we to understand what the Martians say, and