Before I could recover from my surprise at this new evidence of Martian
familiarity with the customs of Earth, the light suddenly grew dim and
in a few seconds had disappeared completely, leaving the instrument
plunged in darkness. Mars had risen above the frame of the skylight, and
I was no longer in contact with the light-waves. I listened intently,
thinking that if the sound-waves were of the nature of the
electrical-waves we employ in the wireless system, I would still be in
touch with my newly found friend, but I heard no further sound from the
instrument, thus proving that these waves also were projected by the
mysterious agent known only to the Martians.

I had so much to occupy my mind, with what I had just witnessed, and so
many thoughts rushed in upon me regarding the perfecting of my
instrument so that it might properly respond to the sound-waves, that I
did not experience the disappointment I had felt before at the short
duration of our contact with each other. I was glad of the opportunity
to think; I felt that it was necessary to do so before further action,
if I ever hoped to attain the knowledge of Mars and its inhabitants that
my remarkable discovery had placed within my reach. I determined that on
the morrow, if I did not meet with better results in the sound
vibrations, I would try to communicate with the Martian by writing some
simple sentence in a bold hand, and in as many languages as I could.
This I would expose in front of the instrument, but I placed little hope
in the success of the scheme, for it was not possible that the Martian
language would be identical with any of ours.